When I first learned that Thu Hoai was making her debut album with an acoustic jazz trio, I was very excited for her. I got nervous, however, when she told me the tunes she was going to cover including “La Chanson D’Orphee,” “Autumn Leaves” and “Cry Me a River.” These are great choices of standards, but would she able to pull them off? After listening to La Chanson D’Orphee, I am not alone. Thu Hoai was nervous as hell as well.

“Autumn Leaves” leads off the album with a bossa-nova groove. I heard Thu Hoai performed live a couple of times before, but never in such a constrained approach. She fluffs from French, English (even mixed the two) to Vietnamese and the band damn near drowns her out. Likewise, she struggles to connect to the musicians on “Besame Mucho,” another Latin flavor. The piano’s ostinato comping into instead of around her vocals. When she drops out, the drums and bass play stronger and tighter accompanying the piano solo.

Through her stilted flow and lacking of confidence on the title track, it is apparent that she is not from the school of jazz. She doesn’t possess the chops to improvise her ways through timing, phrasing and interacting with the band. On “Moon River” she latches on to the slow tempo and she recites rather than sings the words.

“Nang Thu” is the turning point of the album. Thu Hoai sings with much more confidence even the rhythm section kicks up a notch. She sounds at ease with the trio and her phrasing comes across much more natural as if she could feel the beat. Although she has also loosen up on the fun, up-tempo “‘S Wonderful,” it is her version of “Nang Thu” that makes me wish she had recorded the entire album reinterpreting Vietnamese compositions.

The intention of wanting to attract an international audience is very ambitious. No crime in that, but start from the core first before branching out. Even Shakira didn’t become an international sensation over night or with just one album.

A quick glance at the tracklist on Le Quyen’s Khuc Tinh Xua worried me. It would be a damn shame to witness one of my favorite female vocalists goes down Dam Vinh Hung’s path: fucking up classic sentimental ballads. As soon as I heard the first bar on the opening track, however, my worry was gone. Le Quyen not only didn’t let me down, but she also gave “nhac sen” an elegant makeover.

Le Quyen has learned the art of covering timeless golden tunes. She also understands the challenge of respecting the work and at the same time making each tune her own. In the leadoff track, Truc Phuong’s “Mua Nua Dem,” she bares her soul without being overemotional and expresses the lyrics without belting out her big, smoky pipe. In the second track, Thanh Binh’s “Tinh Lo,” she refined the tune to its core by stripping out the pathos and getting straight to the pain. She sings each word like she lives it. Her version of Hong Van’s “Doi Thong Hai Mo” is not just a threnody. She sings as if she also wanted to buried her soul next to the two graves.

From Y Van’s “Buon” to Tuan Khanh’s “Chiec La Cuoi Cung” to Anh Bang’s “Em Ve Keo Troi Mua” to Minh Ky’s “Tinh Doi” to Tran Thien Thanh’s “Han Mac Tu,” she makes these tunes fresh and “un-sen” with her gentle-but-grainy voice and soulful-but-never-schmaltz delivery. With the exception of the album closer, Anh Bang’s “Ngon Truc Dao,” which ruined by the dull beat, Khuc Tinh Xua is Le Quyen’s most consistent set yet. Some of the productions could benefit from simplicity, but Le Quyen’s voice is right on the money. She had demonstrated how classic ballads should be covered: thoughtful and tasteful.

Ho Quynh Huong has such a damn sexy voice that she could seduce me with almost any song. Her new release, Anh, is an instant poppy album that has not only one but two Duy Manh’s tunes. When it comes to Duy Manh music, I can’t even take it from the writer himself, yet Ho Quynh Huong managed to make hits out of them with her soulful, powerful delivery. It must be her smoky timbre that burned the sugarcoated melody and cut straight to the emotional core.

Ho Quynh Huong shows off her big pipe on Minh Ha’s “Tinh Yeu Mai Mai.” The huge pop ballad starts out soft but launches into a powerhouse. It’s the style that Bang Kieu loves to do, but hearing Ho Quynh Huong is a much more pleasurable experience. Still, I prefer to hear Ho Quynh Huong takes on something more bluesy like Minh Ha’s “Trong Co Don,” in which she skillfully maneuvers her way around the savory piano ostinato and light swing rhythm.

Quoc Bao’s “Quynh” should have been the album closer. Unlike the glossy, flossy hits on the album, “Quynh” is fairly minimal. The first twenty bars, with only an acoustic guitar backing her up, are simply gorgeous. While Tung Duong’s version on Quoc Bao’s Q+B is sensational in his own style, Ho Quynh Huong owns the track like she owns her middle name.

Before I rain on his happiness, let me be crystal clear that I am not only a fan of Nguyen Khang, but also one of his toughest critics. Given that Mua Tren Hanh Phuc Toi is his debut DVD, the effort is commendable, but there are still plenty of room for improvements. The concept could have been tighter. The song choice could have been better. The arrangement could have been simpler.

The concept was all over the place. It should have been more focused on either an intimate setting or all-out pop. The danger of pleasing everyone is losing them all. The song selection seemed to be coming more from Asia than Nguyen Khang himself. Sy Dan’s “Vung Bien Vang,” Vu Duc Tuan’s “Toc Ngang Bo Vai” and Quoc Hung’s “Vi Sao Em Oi” are the proof. The Nguyen Khang-Diem Lien duet was a disappointment. It sounded exactly like the recorded version. Arrangement wise, some could have been stripped down. Trinh Cong Son’s “Mot Ngay Nhu Moi Ngay” was definitely over arranged by Sy Dan. The minimal accompaniment like an acoustic guitar was all that needed to create the simple day-to-day life in Trinh’s lyricism. The mid-bouncy beat didn’t do the song its justice.

With all that said, there were some shining moments on the DVD. Tha Phuong’s “Dem Dai” was the highlight of the concert. Accompanied by Mai Thanh Son’s simple orchestration and backed up by Song Xanh group, Nguyen Khang gave a poignant performance. He had done an great job of articulating the mournful sentiment the songwriter expressed for his deceased wife. Although Thien Kim had popularized Duc Tien’s “Nguoi Dan Ba Di Nhat Mat Troi,” Nguyen Khang managed to make it his own just by singing it straight from his heart.

Y Van’s “Thoi” has been covered to death, but Hoai Phuong was able to reinvigorate it with a laid-back, finger-snapping, swing jazz. The thumbing bass lines accompanying Nguyen Khang’s gruff voice in the beginning was hypnotizing. This is along the line of what I was thinking of when I wanted to make a Vietnamese jazz concert: keep it simple, keep it cool. Van Phung’s “Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon” also got a mid-tempo, muted-swing treatment from Hoai Phuong. The thing is the arrangement had been used before in a medley “Ai Ve Song Tuong/Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon.”

The show closed out with Truc Ho’s “Se Hon Bao Gio Het” in an up-tempo Latin flavor. Sy Dan contributed the majority of the arrangements for the concert, but this one stood out the most. The bass was kicking and Daniel Vu dropped some tasty keys on the piano. It’s a nice way to end the show. If the poppy numbers were replaced with some jazz, bluesy or his signiture tunes, Mua Tren Hanh Phuc Toi would have been unforgettable.

After suffering the grimness of Asia’s Canh Hoa Thoi Loan, I was ready to be washed up by Thuy Nga’s Divas. Let me state upfront that I do not dislike Thuy Nga’s male singers, but I do prefer to watch an exclusive female show revealing as much skin as possible. What can I say? It’s the testosterone thing and the best part is that I can enjoy this guilty pleasure with my wife’s approval.

On the first disc, I could hardly pay attention to the music. In fact, I really don’t need to. I could have muted the sound and replace the music with Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew, especially with Bao Han’s wilding-out peformance. Even with all the male dancers dressed as drags, she stood out. That bitch was brewing up the scene. Since this is her last performance, her voice won’t be missed, but her stage presence definitely will.

Now I am not entitled to opine what women should do with their body, but I am glad that Ho Le Thu went under the knife for our visual stimulation. Both Nguyet Anh and Toc Tien looked fine, but Lord knows what they will look like an enhencement. I am not suggesting that they should. I am just saying. Nevertheless, Nguyet Anh looked pretty damn hot in that pink, flashy dress showing off her georgous legs. The carmeramen had done a great job of panning from her feet up to her thighs, then pause for a few seconds before moving up to her face. Not just Nguyet Anh, but most of the hot singers were filmed that way; therefore, camera crew has to be made up of men.

Except for a few performances, the first disc was purely for eye candy. Let’s be real. “Sang Ngang” was clearly over Huong Giang’s head. I doubt that she had ever been heart-broken. If she had, she wouldn’t even be anywhere near that suicidal stage. So even she sang with tears in her eyes, she couldn’t articulate the sorrow of the song. Still, the worse performance on disc one (and the entire program as well) goes to Phi Nhung who was so proud of her lame-ass idea of mashing up rap with folk music. The result was so wack that you just want to slap some taste out of her.

The second disc, on the other hand, had a few listenable moments and the MILFs get the prize hands down. Hot-as-hell MILF Thanh Ha reinvigorated Thanh Binh’s “Lam Lo” with a classy, jazzy rendition. Dam Vinh Hung damn near killed the tune with his “sen” phrasing, but Thanh Ha made it “un-sen” again. MILF Ngoc Anh gave a heart-rending, goosbump version of Pham Duy’s “Mua Thu Chet.” This tune has been covered countless of time, but only Ngoc Anh could revive Julie’s classic version. Her gruff, throaty voice went beyond mourning (more like cremating) the death of autumn. Finally, MILF Y Lan gave an elegant version of “La Vie En Rose” and she looked like a true diva.

Speaking of true diva, people weren’t satisfied with the show that labeled “Divas,” but featuring many faces that haven’t reached that stature. I don’t disagree with that even though Nguyen Ngoc Ngan gave a disclaimer right in the beginning that the show represents divas of the past, present and future. Although I doubt that many of these female entertainers would reach that level, I could careless about the label. What disappointed me though is that the real diva didn’t show up. That’s right, my diva Bang Kieu didn’t make it on the program. Vocally, Bang Kieu could outdue any diva on that stage. He just needs to pull a Ly Tong stunt and no one would have noticed.

There have been speculations that Paris By Night 100 will be Thuy Nga’s last show. If that’s true then I wish the production best of luck with whatever comes next. If it is not true then I wouldn’t mind seeing a sequel of this show. I would love to see how Thuy Nga would top itself. If Asia could manage to push propagonada further and further with each release, Thuy Nga could push for more skins. After all, it’s a great way to save cost on customes. Blame it on the piracy. Thuy Nga could put out as many diva DVDs as the production desires, but please don’t ever ever ever put out a show for the divo. No offense to the fellows, but just the thought of seeing Duong Trieu Vu on stage is a bad idea.

Asia Entertainment has done it again. The production managed to create gloomier and gloomier videos with each new release by recycling old concepts, old songs and same old documentary clips. In Canh Hoa Thoi Loan, Asia even used scenes from Journey From The Fall throughout the program as if they were part of the documented materials. Is Asia turning into Fox News?

One thing for sure, Asia has mastered the art of drama entertainment. Right off the opening scene, Asia brought out guns, dancers in army uniforms and tons of explosive effects in the background. Quoc Khanh was all teared up trying his hardest to make “Ao Anh Sut Chi Duong Ta” convincible. Then the MCs all beefed up to make the program even more dramatic. Sister Duong Nguyet Anh spoke with so much anguish that she sounded like she was swallowing her own tears every time she opened up her mouth.

Canh Hoa Thoi Loan is so damn heavy that even some of the up-tempo performances couldn’t lightened up the spirit. As depressing as the program was, I’ll admit that I can’t take any of it any more serious then a product of entertainment. I am not the only one here. Asia knows it too. If you read in between in the line you can tell. Asia dropped hints here and there. Take “Hat Cho Nguoi Nam Xuong,” one of the darkest performances in the video, for instance. Thien Kim is not Khanh Ly, but she came pretty damn close in expressing the mournfulness in Trinh Cong Son’s lyrics. While she was performing, the coffin covered in the yellow-with-three-red-stripe flag was hanging in the air. The whole scene was looking pretty damn doleful until the camera zoom right to Thien Kim’s sexy, see-through ao dai and her black bra. I am not accusing her of disrespecting the dead, I am just saying.

After Y Phuong’s grand finale, MC Thuy Duong gave another clue in her closing statement: “This has been a very special show for us. We hope you had a great time and we look forward to seeing you again next time.” I don’t know if I had a great time, but I would have drove myself off the cliff after watching the program if I took the content seriously. So even Asia knows that this is just for your entertainment.

“The girls come up with the nicest outfit
 / The guys come up with the nicest haircut
 / And me come up with this microphone.” Suboi claims on “Ticki Ticki Toc,” an opening track off her debut Walk released under Duc Tri’s Music Faces label. Suboi’s first breakthrough was when she rapped on Ho Ngoc Ha’s “Girls’ Night.” When I first heard that track, I envisioned a MILF taking her daughter to a club. Although she is twenty years old, she sounds like twelve on the record.

Lyrically speaking, her rhymes are straight elementary. What amazes me though is that she could combine three languages in just two bars: “Mi casa es su casa, I just say blah blah / 
If you don’t understand, forget it, cho qua.” Who could have thought of rhyming “blah blah” with “cho qua?” On the title track, Suboi mimics the southern flow to go with the big, dirty southern beat supplies by Duong Khac Kinh, producer of the album. Unfortunately, Blak Ray slaughters the tune with his annoying chorus-singing.

In some ways, Suboi is like M.I.A. minus the lyrical substance. They both rap like kids over big beats and they both are tone deaf, but M.I.A. knows how to work within her limitation and her punchlines are brilliant. Suboi’s lines are just silly: “Hola, Me llamo S – U – B – O – I
 / Ima dance like there’s an ant in my pants.” Maybe Suboi doesn’t have the freedom to express herself the way M.I.A. does. Not that I expect Suboi to drop some deep thoughts, but hip-hop can’t live if she’s not free. Walk is nothing more than a baby rap album.

I don’t know about the old Thao Trang, but the new Thao Trang comes straight out of Rihanna, noticeably the style and the boy haircut. The New Me is also heading toward pop-r&b direction. The album switches from English to Vietnamese and from dance to slow ballad. The changes of language and tempo from track to track is quite a distraction. Why not just stick to one, preferably English?

Thao Trang’s English is very impressive for a girl living in Viet Nam. Unlike 99% of singers in Viet Nam who sings with heavy Vietlish accent, Thao Trang doesn’t have that issue. In fact, her English is even stronger than her Vietnamese. The lyrics on the title track are mediocre, but you could understand what she’s singing about and the beat is incredibly bouncy. “Superstar Girl” is another cut exclusively for the dance floor. The attitude here is definitely a Rihanna’s influence minus the curses. Yet the strongest connection is on Bollywood-inflected “I am Not Easy,” which sounds like a collaboration between Rihanna and Lil Wayne. Antoneus is unknown to me, but the singing style is coming from Weezy.

Strangely enough, Thao Trang’s Vietnamese tracks fall flat on both production and vocal delivery. She sounds less confidence “Trai Ngang” than “I am Free.” When she combines both languages into one song and the result is a disaster. “Sick of This Love” is a proof: “I am sick of this love / sick of this life / Sau bao cay dang bong nhu nghe long nhu da phai.”

On her new release, Tim Lai Giac Mo, Ho Ngoc Ha sounds pretty damn relax for a pop star whose personal life has been caught into the media whirlwind. She delivers each track with such effortless as if she pays no mind to the media circus.

Being a mother could be the reason for the calmness in her. She is more focused and she doesn’t allow the noise breaks her concentration. Even on the heart-aching title track, she just eases back and lets the saxophone does the soaring. Unfortunately, the screeching sax tries to break your eardrum rather than your heart. On the pop-jazz “Tinh Yeu Cua Em,” the sax once again overpowers her raspy voice. Other than the crying sax sounds, the album stays consistent throughout.

Tim Lai Giac Mo is an easy-listening pop album. The opening track, penned herself, is light but catchy. The closing English track should have been dropped. In a live rendition of “Unchain Melody,” she told the audiences to pretend that they all drunk when she sings the tune. I took two shots of Jack Daniel’s and still couldn’t get past her stilted phrasing and mispronunciation.

If Y Phuong’s new release were about global warming, she would have outsold Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. After listening to ten tracks on Mua (rain), I still feel dry and humid. Accompanied by Asia’s draggy productions, Y Phuong puts no effort in making these tunes her own. She sings like a weather reporter: In track one, “Thang 6 Troi Mua,” it’s going to be rain all day, but never did; in track two, “Chieu Mua,” it’s going to be a heavy rain in the evening, but never did; and on we go. Even with the support of Don Ho, Quoc Khanh and Le Nguyen, still no rain.