Twelve years into show biz with numerous forgettable releases, Quang Dung has yet to learn the art of crafting an album. He still throws together a handful of tracks and picks out a word for the album title.

His latest release, Toi, has no concept or any particular theme that goes into the album. You could just put Toi on random and the listening experience would still be the same: just a bunch of tracks with various songwriters and arrangements that have no connection whatsoever.

If you play the album in random, however, you might not get to hear Quang Dung’s highly irritating pronunciation on the opening track, Bao Chan’s “Roi Dau Yeu Ve.” His “x” in particular is like sharp needles poking into your ears. By the time he gets to “xa xoi, xa xoi da xa xoi roi,” the piercing sound is just unbearable. So it might be not a bad thing to skip this track altogether.

While we’re at it, let’s also skip Anh Bang’s “Anh Con No Em” and Hoang Trong Thuy’s “Doan Khuc Cuoi Cho Em.” For some reasons, these two tunes had been covered again and again by countless of singers in the past year. The royalty fees must be on sale or none at all. In all fairness, I wouldn’t mind hearing another cover if Quang Dung could bring something fresh to the tune. In this case, neither the production nor the interpretation stands out.

Quang Dung once again offers the same safety formula he had used since his debut. Toi is just another predictable work that demonstrates nothing but his creative limitation. It’s a damn shame that Quang Dung can’t seem get beyond his comfort zone.

One of the game’s hottest MILFs drops her 10th-solo Kim Nguu. The title, which named according to her Zodiac sign (Taurus), has nothing to do with the lollipop tunes on the album. It just goes to show how much Hien Thuc had invested in this CD.

The leadoff track, “Yeu Dau Theo Gio Bay,” kicks off with some nursery rhymes like “cay cay” and “bay bay.” Although Hien Thuc added some emotion to her singing, the lackluster production and the annoying rap murdered the song. “Nuoc Mat Pha Le” is even worse. It sounds like millions of other Chinese-infected tunes that spread like bird flu over the Vietnamese music scene.

From my personal experience, if an album released in Vietnam with a track in English, 99 percent of the time that CD ended up being mediocre. This one is no exception and the dead-boring “Never Say Goodbye” is a proof. Kim Nguu is apparent that Hien Thuc is in no competition with Hoang Thuy Linh in the pop-r&b-dance territory.

Lately I got tired listening to Vietnamese timeless ballads that had been covered with uninspiring results; therefore, I have turned my attention to dance-pop hits. Thanh Thao’s 2010 Dance Remix is still on heavy rotation in my car stereo. Each morning, the medleys help me stay awake until my grande bold at Starbucks pumps in. The opening track, “Lien Khuc Nguoi Yeu Cua Toi,” is extremely addictive. The Thai-translated “Ok Minh Chia Tay” in particular grooves me and I always get a kick out of the nursery rhymes: “Nguoi doi thay ma toi dau co hay / Vi chot yeu nen dang cay / Nguoi muon quen ngay xua nhu bong may / Ok minh chia tay.” Tien Dat has done a great job of incorporating the lyrics into his delivery and his flow is tight.

My second guilty pleasure is Ung Hoang Phuc’s Greatest Hits, in which he re-recorded some of his signature slow ballads with up-tempo productions. “Toi Di Tim Toi” is addictive as hell and the beat is catchier than a motherfucker. The upbeat version of “Co Don Mot Vi Sao” is also off the hook. The beat speeds up as the song progresses and the lyrics can’t get any sweeter than this: “Nay hoi ong trang tren cao / Co hay toi dang nho nang / Phai chang luc nay nang cung dang nhin ong.” Any man who talks to the moon is simply romantic. I am totally gay for that.

Lastly, I am not ashamed to admit that I get more pleasure listening to Hoang Thuy Linh’s debut than watching her sex video. I viewed the clip once (out of curiosity of course), but I have been enjoying the album over and over again like a bitter cup of coffee. Her sexy voice along with the ingenious beats seduce me. She is more naked on the slow pop ballads, “Cam On Vi Da Yeu Em,” “Anh Co Nho Gi,” “Cho Nhau Loi Di Rieng,” than in the video, in which she appeared extremely uncomfortable even though she was an actress. Her acting on camera had ended, but she was able to transfer her skills to music. When she sings, “Luc em buon anh luon gan ben / Luc em vui nhin anh cuoi theo nhu anh la em,” her emotion is convincing and that is a songstress. As for the rest of the up-tempo numbers including the title track, “Nghe Nay Chang Trai,” “Khoc Lan Cuoi,” I just want to bounce along and she did so without the help from the none-sense raps. Hoang Thuy Linh had done put the Vietnamese pop music on the map and I can’t wait to hear what she’ll have to offer next.

The double-set Highway Rider showcases both of Brad Mehldau’s pianistic virtuosity and artistic versatility. No matter what setting producer Jon Brion placed him in, Mehldau could transform his style and make his piano flows. Backing up by the crisp, hip-hop beat, he gets his swag on in the title track. His playing is no less addictive on the Latin-flavor “Capricco.” Saxophonist Joshua Redman shows up on “Don’t Be Sad” and makes a remarkable impact with his achingly beautiful soprano. From the lively orchestra to Mehldau’s dissonant chords to Redman’s gorgeous tone, the classical-jazz “We’ll Cross the River Together” is the composition that defines the album. Highly recommended!

Politic aside, Asia latest 55 Nam Nhin Lai had a few worth-watching performances. Lam Nhat Tien and Nguyen Hong Nhung kicked off the show with a Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s medley (“Goi Gio Cho May Ngan Bay” and “La Thu”). Their strong vocals meshed well.

Another great match is Nguyen Khang and Diem Lien on Le Uyen Phuong’s “Vung Lay Cua Chung Ta.” The subtle keyboard licks gave the timeless ballad a bit of jazz flavor. Nguyen Khang also dominated the Phuong Hoang’s medley. His roughness made Doan Phi and Mai Thanh Son sounded like bitches.

Anh Minh was blazing in an uptempo rendition of Y Van’s “Dem Do Thi.” Too bad she only sang half of the song. Mai Le Huyen killed the first half. Ha Vy, Nini and Vina reunited with Van Phung’s “Trang Son Cuoc.” The track was hot; the girls were hotter, especially Nini. Her voice is alright, but she has killer ab and gorgeous face.

I was not too crazy about medleys, but there were some enjoyable ones such as Thanh Thuy on Truc Phuong’s, Ho Hoang Yen and Quoc Khanh on Vu Thanh An’s and Y Phuong and Anh Khoa on Nam Loc’s. I didn’t feel Trinh Cong Son’s medley through Thien Kim and Le Thu. They sounded boring. And the worse medley of all was from no other than Trish and Cardin. I felt so relieve when Cardin announced that he took a break from singing. The little dude should have stayed on hiatus.

I am very proud to be Vietnamese. In fact, I am so damn proud that I forced myself to sit through the five-hour Paris By Night 99: Toi La Nguoi Viet Nam on a Sunday afternoon and bored out of my mind. By the second lineup, Y Lan took on Tuan Khanh’s “Nhat Nhoa,” the show turned insipid.

Musically, there were a bunch of uninspiring, refurbishing fillers including Vu Tuan Duc’s medley (performed by Ky Phuong Uyen and Luu Bich), Duc Huy’s medley (performed by Luong Tung Quang and Mai Tien Dung), Khanh Ly’s yet another version of Trinh Cong Son’s “Uot Mi” and Thanh An’s wimpiest rendition of Ngoc Son’s “Tinh Cha” yet.

Duong Trieu Vu couldn’t bring life to Pham Duy’s “Ky Niem” even though the production had done its best to beef up the imageries from the lyrics. He lacked the experience to make the tune believable. In contrast, Ngoc Ha managed to give a nostalgic performance of Tu Huy’s “Que Huong Tuoi Tho Toi,” the only track that stood out from the show. Dieu Huong’s new tune, “Xin Dung Quay Lai,” was predictable. Mr. Trizzy Phuong Trinh made it even more obvious how the chords were structured. The ballad started off soft but progressed into a Celine Dion’s belting-out climax.

Even the theme of the show was not inspiring. Asia had been highlighting successful Vietnamese-Americans for years. It’s about time Thuy Nga gave props to the “King of Nail” for all the ads he bought from the production. Not only Thuy Nga ripped off the concept, but it also used Trinh Hoi to do the same damn things he did when he was at Asia. The different is that his role at Thuy Nga is more like an assistant MC.

The sex tape killed Hoang Thuy Linh’s acting career, but gave birth to a young pop star. With the debut release, Hoang Thuy Linh returns to the limelight after the “Vang Anh scandal” broke out near the end of 2007. When the album dropped last month, I didn’t pay much attention because I didn’t think Hoang Thuy Linh could sing. After listening to the album again yesterday, I still think she can’t sing. She has a cute voice, but her range is very limited. Yet, the album works so well thanks to the producers who know how to build the arrangements around her vocals.

Hoang Thuy Linh Vol. 1 kicks off with a club-friendly “Nhip Dap Giac Mo” written by the Luu Thien Huong. The bouncy beat allows Hoang Thuy Linh to ride along with confidence. The end result is pretty damn catchy. Dong Nhi’s “Nghe Nay Chang Trai” is another hypnotic up-tempo number with Auto-Tune enhancement, which is rare because most Vietnamese pop singers use Auto-Tune as a clutch to make themselves sound like alien.

Hoang Thuy Linh also knows not to dramatize slow songs. On the R&B slow jam “Cam On Vi Yeu Em,” another Luu Thien Huong’s piece, she makes the hook sounds convincing as if she thanks her lover for sticking with her after that sex scandal. The album closer, “Ngay Hanh Phuc,” confirms that Hoang Thuy Linh has left the past behind: “Quen di bao nhieu au lo ngay hom qua / Quen di nhung song gio lam cho ta met nhoai.”

What holds the album together is the crisp, solid beats throughout. The lyrics aren’t over-the-top cheesy like most of the the trendy songs these days. This is definitely the step in the right direction for Hoang Thuy Linh. Keep moving forward, kiddo.

As a pop phenomenon who has always tried to stay young, My Tam surprises her fans by covering old songs on her latest release Melodies of Time. What surprises me though is that she doesn’t update these songs to make them relevant for the young listeners even though she has the potential to do so.

My Tam plays safe and doesn’t even take any risk with the beats like she had done in the past. As a result, she is being overshadowed by the previous generation of singers. Her version of Quoc Dung and Nguyen Duc Cuong’s “Chuyen Hop Tan” is an immediate echo of Bao Yen. Their annunciation sounds similar, but Bao Yen’s effortless phrasing and gruff tone gives the tune more rough edges. Furthermore, Bao Yen’s skillful breath control makes My Tam’s breathy delivery sounds amateur.

With Lam Phuong’s “Xin Thoi Gian Qua Mau,” Ngoc Lan’s version comes to mind as soon as My Tam begins the first line. My Tam comes across as stiff and dull compare to Ngoc Lan’s fluid and emotional flow. What makes Ngoc Lan’s version so damn hypnotizing until this day is the way she wrapped her angelic voice around the rhumba rhythm.

What is up with everyone covering Hoang Trong Thuy’s “Doan Khuc Cuoi Cho Em” these days? Once again, Ngoc Anh’s recent version still dominates the rest including My Tam’s simply because Ngoc Anh has such a mesmerizing voice and she sang the tune with so much soul and authority of a woman.

The timeless songs she covered aren’t strong, yet the weakest track on the album is “Doi Yeu,” in which she penned herself with Le Quang. The melody and the lyrics are just mundane, but the ad-lib male voice is what really kills the song. He is hardly audible and he sounded like he has tuberculosis with a big mucus blocking his vocal cord.

Melodies of Time has set My Tam really far back. She will need to step up her game and take more adventurous approach if she doesn’t want to be forgotten. Other wise she will become mediocre like her male-counterpart Dam Vinh Hung.

Alone with the piano, Hiromi’s takes listeners on a roller-coaster ride around the world in her Place to Be. The first stop is “BQE” (Brooklyn Queens Expressway) where traffic vibe is built using series of chromatic scales; then we jump over to France for delightful treat of “Choux a la Creme” (sweet and full of textures); and on we go. While the infectious “Capecode Chips” shows off her boogie-woogie chops, “Somewhere,” a tribute to someone closed to her that passed away, displays her sentimental side. Place to Be, which captures some of Hiromi’s finest and impressive jazz improvisations, is a testament that Hiromi can be placed anywhere on this earth and she will make her voicing heard.

Although Dr. Tran Viet Tan doesn’t make a living off his music, he sure knows how to put together a high-quality album. He either has the strong connection or plenty of dough to scoop up four brand-name vocalists (Hong Nhung, Thanh Lam, Ha Tran and Tung Duong) as well as big-name producers including Hoai Sa on his new release Cham Vao Dem. Furthermore, the album cover was well designed: stunningly simple and typographically clever.

Even with all that jazz, it can’t hide the fact that the doc is not a melodic composer. Hong Nhung had done her best to bring some life to “Vo Oc Thoi Gian,” “Bai Ky Niem” and “Song Ve,” but still can’t save them from being dead boring. The melodies are just flat. Thanh Lam tries to give the title track some rough edges with her irritating flow and annoying vibrato. She ends up making the tune unbearable. Even Tung Duong fails to make the doc’s song exciting. On “Dem Sapa,” he sounds as if he tries to kill an ant with a sledgehammer. The beat is light and bouncy, but his voice is so heavy and dull.

Listening to Cham Vao Dem is like going to an upscale restaurant. The decoration looks expensive and the presentation appears to be enticing, but the food simply has no taste. The up-tempo of “Hay Coi Nhau Nhu Tinh Nhan” performed by the doc himself is like the extra red bean soup you get at a Chinese restaurant at the end of the meal.