No matter who covers Nguyen Anh 9’s “Mua Thu Canh Nau,” Hong Hanh always comes to mind. She owns that track like Tuan Ngoc owns Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Rieng Mot Goc Troi,” Phuong Thanh owns Quoc Hung’s “Trong Vang,” and Quang Dung owns Dieu Huong’s “Vi Do La Em.” So when she rerecords the song in her latest release, Ngo Dau Tinh Da…!, she’s competing with herself. The new version still remains jazzy, but with a bit of funk groove added. Her delivery is softer and the huskiness is lost in her phrasing. Although it sounds refreshing, I still root for the good old bluesy rendition. It still intoxicates me every time.

In addition to “Mua Thu Canh Nau,” the new album features a handful of jazz-arranged numbers that match up quite well with Hong Hanh’s slightly gruff vocals. Her version of Trinh Cong Son’s “Nhin Nhung Mua Thu Di” is soothing, relaxing and perfect for quiet nights. While Nguyen Nam’s “Tinh Ca Cho Em” gets a gorgeous, Brazilian-inspired rhythm, Le Huu Ha’s “Huyen Thoai Nguoi Con Gai” gets to swing with a hypnotic walking bass at the bottom.

On Nguyen Huu Thiet’s “Yeu Nhau Di,” Hong Hanh pours her heart and soul out over the crisp strumming guitar. It’s a perfect album closer that leaves you yearning for more, especially with the way she whispers the last few words. Even though Ngo Dau Tinh Da…! is not a true jazz record, the subtle, understated approach makes it an intimate pleasure to enjoy.

Ladies, pour yourself a glass of Cosmo. Gentlemen, make yourself a glass of gin and tonic. Kick back with Ngoc Anh’s first U.S. release, Giet Nguoi Trong Mong, under Thuy Nga production, and I guarantee that you won’t kill each other. In fact, you will make luscious love to Ngoc Anh’s sultry voice paying homage to classic ballads.

Instead of reinventing familiar songs, she just lets her sexy timbre seduce you. Right off the opening title track, she makes you wish you were the one that she wanted to murder. If voice could kill, hers is a flying dagger straight to your heart. On Hoang Trong Thuy’s “Doan Khuc Cuoi Cho Em,” you could feel the quiet fire in her delivery and the warm intimacy in every breath she takes. She has no problem maneuvering her smoky, steamy vocals around Nguyen Anh 9’s bluesy “Mua Thu Canh Nau.”

It doesn’t hurt to have Tuan Ngoc and Bang Kieu show up next to her. Her duet with Bang Kieu on Do Le’s “Sang Ngang” is a better fit than with Tuan Ngoc on Hoang Thi Tho’s “Mot Lan Cuoi.” It would have been even better if Bang Kieu handled the female part and Ngoc Anh handled the male part, but that’s just me. Still, Giet Nguoi Trong Mong is a classic good taste that matches with a classy singer.

“A man ain’t cheat / A man ain’t me,” Gucci Mane declares on the Keyshia Cole-assisted “Bad Bad Bad.” What makes Gucci so damn entertaining is his sense of lyrical humor. On “Sex in Crazy Places” for instance, he raps: “Don’t compare me to your ex-man / Baby, he’s a local joker / I’ll take you to Six Flags / And drill you on the roller coaster.” In addition to his punch lines, Gucci’s gruff voice, effortless flow and wise choice for beats shine through on The State vs. Radric Davis. Listening to him gets “Stupid Wild” along with Weezy and Killa Cam is a pleasure. Still the most inventive track is the opening “Classical.” Backing up by operatic vocals chanting his name, he shows off his fluid flow over the savory Southern beat sprinkled with classical piano on top.

The last time I listened to Nhat Ha was about a decade ago. Back then I was more interested in her look than her singing. Has her voice always sounded slightly raspy or has time given her timbre some textures? Her dark, lush vocals particularly soar through in Quoc Dung’s “Trai Tim Toi Loi,” a mesmerizing track off her new record Nhu Chut Nang Hu Hao. She sings like a woman who has been through pain, love and lust as she curls her voice like smoke around the decent orchestration.

When covering well-know ballads, Nhat Ha sings with maturity and appreciation for the lyrics. On Le Uyen Phuong’s “Vung Lay Cua Hai Chung Ta,” her flow is mellow and her emotion is fragile yet poignant. On Lam Phuong’s “Mot Minh,” she could bring out the lonely sentiment of the song. When it comes to her own tunes, co-written with Huynh Thai Binh, Nhat Ha is no less impressive. The title track is slow, bittersweet and soothing as she takes her time to convey her personal lyricism. Her “Xa Cach” is gorgeously delivered by Tuan Ngoc whose unmatchable phrasing over Duy Cuong’s unmistakable arrangement brings the song to a higher level.

Duc Tuan and Quang Minh also appeared in the album, but Nhat Ha is still the main attraction. She closes out the record with a sensational cover of Pham Duy’s “Phuong Yeu” showing off her versatility in interpreting other people work as well as expression her own. Now I am more interested in her song choice than her look, but I must say she’s aging pretty well based on the album cover.

To fully express Vietnamese sentimental ballads, a vocalist has to reach the ripeness of the lyrics. She has to sing like she lives it. Tam Doan has been covering lyrical standards throughout her career, yet her latest release, Sau Le Bong, is as plain as yesterday’s cold white congee. Her version of Lam Phuong’s “Giot Le Sau” lacks the despondency and Song Ngoc’s “Xin Goi Nhau La Co Nhan” lacks the soul-stirring despair from the older generation. Maybe she was trying to refrain herself by staying in the low register, but you can never go over sentimental on over-sentimental music.

Sure Susan Boyle stunned the audiences and the judges on Britain’s Got Talent with her gorgeous soprano and palpable phrasing. She can take a song and sing her heart out, but Ms Boyle is no interpreter. The twelve tracks on her her debut, I Dreamed a Dream, are the proof. From “Cry Me a River” to “Silent Night,” she never escapes the melodies. She is predictable on most string-orchestrated standards and gospel songs with the exception of “The End of the World.” Although her delivery is faithful, the simple strumming guitar allows her voice to carry the sentiment of the tune.

“Open up your legs, girl / I wanna kiss you in your private part,” Mr. sexpert R. Kelly seduces with his authoritative baritone on “Whole Lotta Kisses.” When it comes to sex, Kelly doesn’t afraid to “Go Low” and say how he feels: “For instance, you look like food, I wanna put you on my plate / Suck you up with some biscuits and go on and eat you baby / Up until you make it rain, grab my ears and pull my face / Tonight I’ll be giving you brain.” As he claims on “Like I Do,” there’s only two things that he is best at in this world: music and rock your body. From the club to the bedrooms, Kelly sure lives up to his words. Untitled is another one of Kelly’s “sex sessions.”

In Historicity, jazz-piano virtuoso Vijay Iyer along with bassist Stephan Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore rework, reconstruct and re-imagine a wide range of repertoire as well as the leader’s original compositions. The trio’s cover of M.I.A.’s “Galang” is an ingenious work of reinterpretation. Iyer flows his jagged melodic lines like Rakim rhyming over hip-hop hard-hitting beat. “Somewhere” is another masterpiece, in which the group completely revived Leonard Bernstein’s classic track from West Side Story with its own reharmonization and unconventional approach. When it comes to Iyer’s original pieces, such as the title track and “Helix,” the band is no less inventive in rhythmic and hormonic structures. Historicity is an artistic statement that sneaks listeners into an uncharted yet accessible territory. A must experience.

The Clipse flips the scripts on the new release, Til The Casket Drops. On the opening track, “Freedom,” Pusha T warns, “Cocaine aside / All of the bloggers behoove / My critics finally have a verse of mine to jerk off to.” Gone are the coke rhymes and startling paranoia that made its critical-success Hell Hath No Fury such mesmerizing guilty pleasures. Back by “Popular Demand,” Malice and Pusha T trade in dark-tale lyricism for lighter, accessible wordplays. Like “Counseling,” which contains an interpolation of Laura Branigan’s “Self Control,” Clipse tries to take its cameo to the club with comical lines such as: “I used be to all about that fat ass / Then I found a cutie with a flat ass / Good hair, nice smile but a flat ass / Two out of three, sure, I couldn’t let that pass.” While Casket shows the less-serious side of the group, its lyrical verses worth listening to, not jerking off to.

Upon listening to Dumbfoundead’s “Bullets of Truth” prompted to cop his debut Fun With Dumb. The track shows this Asian rapper has some serious swag and he could push 100 bars without a pause. His lyricism is also top-notch. Unfortunately, Fun With Dumb is a dumb-down joke. Tracks like “Rapper-O’s,” “Cockblockers,” and “She Don’t Care” are cute, especially with coined terms like “choppy chaser” and “broke digger,” but you just can’t take them earnestly. I was expecting some sort of Eminem’s or Talib Kweli’s quality, but I was getting Ludacris’ comical rhymes instead. Maybe I would have a different expectation if I didn’t come across “Bullets of Truth” first.