In a packed concert hall at the John F. Kennedy Center last night, Sonny Rollins showed that he is still the Saxophone Colossus at the age of seventy-nine. Limping on stage in a white jacket and sun glasses, Mr. Rollins was greeted by an up-roaring crowd and standing ovation. He wasted no time charging his bop licks over an uptempo rhythm provided by Kobie Watkins (drums), Victor Y. See Yuen (percussion), Bob Cranshaw (electric bass), and Bobby Broom (guitar). Clifton Anderson added the rough, deep trombone sound to the sextet.

Mr. Rollins then ripped through the bluesy “Heaven In the Sky” like a young man with a wounded soul. He also poured his heart out on a sentimental tribute to “J. J. Johnson.” The band members are mostly younger than Mr. Rollins and they sure kept him active. Drummer Kobie Watkins played as if he meant rhythm he hit. The passion and emotion expressed on his face were a joy to watch.

Mr. Rollins and his band closed out the night with a highly groovy tune that had a Caribbean flavor to it. Some of the audience members got up and danced along with Mr. Rollins improvisation and interaction. Once again, the crowd cheered on as they exited the stage. Even without an encore, the show was mesmerizing.

With an authoritative baritone, conceptual rhyme patterns, and impeccable flows, Rakim is, without a doubt, one of hip-hop’s most influential lyricists of all time. So it is fitting to open his new album, The Seventh Seal, in a decade with “How to Emcee.” Aspiring rappers should take notes: “To be the true emcee, icon, or idol / The contents you put in your song are vital.”

Word wise, Rakim is still at the top of his game, but his choice of beats has kept him from making classic albums for years and The Seventh Seal is no exception. On most tracks, the production tends to overpower his voice. “Man Above” sounds like a Dr. Dre’s watered-down production. On “You & I,” you could hear the speaker-rattling bass more than his voice. The speed-up sample on “Message of the Song” gets in the way of the message. “Satisfaction Guaranteed” featured way too many bells and whistles including various drum tracks and irritating chipmunk effects. And what’s up with all the snoozing R&B hooks? Can’t believe he fell for that.

Getting through The Seventh Seal once again makes you realize how indispensable Eric B. was to Rakim’s success. Eric knew how to kept the beats to the minimal to let Rakim’s lyricism shined. After all, even the God Emcee needs the president by his side.

Norah Jones has changed. She trimmed her hair, broke up with her boyfriend, dropped the keyboard and picked up the guitar. She even abandoned pop jazz for soft rock on her forth release The Fall. As for her singing, Norah remains Snorah. “It’s Gonna Be” is the only tune she sounds awake. Most of the time she rocks without getting out of bed. Even when the beats kick up a notch, she still lays back. “Light as a Feather” is best described her flow. That’s not a bad thing since she no longer sings about romance. Gone are the lyrics of “To not touch your skin is not why I sing.” On breakup tunes like “I Wouldn’t Need You,” “Waiting” and “Even Though,” her mood gets bleaker and she is unapologetic about thanking her ex’s father for raising him “so damn wrong.” Jones is slowly and consciously transforming her style.

Cung Tram is Quang Ly’s most personal record. “Xin Cam On” is an ode to his wife. “Me Oi Con Nho Me” is an eulogy to his mother. “Co Bao Gio Phoi Phai” and “Sai Gon Chieu Cuoi Nam” are his recollections of Hue’s drops of sunshine and Sai Gon’s peacefulness in the city’s hustling atmosphere. Accompanied by straightforward, mellow arrangements, provided by Hoai Sa, Viet Anh, Bao Phuc, and Vinh Tam, the eight tunes he has written lack the sweet melodies he had accustomed to, yet they are deeply intimate. Quang Ly claims that he made this album for himself. In that regard, he had succeeded.

Live and isolated, Keith Jarrett is masterful at improvising on the spot as if notes just rolled off his fingers. Testament, captured in Paris and London concerts at the end of last year, finds Jarrett once again moaning and groaning and displaying his spontaneous piano solos ranging from percussive to expressive, powerful to peaceful, and technicality to melancholy.

Another Bang Kieu? As if we need one more dude who sings like a spineless bitch. No offense to BK freaks. In fact, you should check out Hoang Nhat Minh’s Acoustic if you love BK’s countertenor. I can’t stand that shit; therefore, I couldn’t even get past the first track, Le Huu Ha’s “Hay Yeu Nhu Chua Yeu Lan Nao,” even though the acoustic recording is straightforward and intimate.

Nine new tracks from Quoc Bao off Q+B don’t gravitate you immediately, but will slowly but surely grow on you. Quoc Bao enlisted a wide range of vocalists from the least experience (Hoa T. Tran) to the veteran (Quang Ly). Often time, an album with too many singers distracts the experience and Q+B is not an exception; however, producer Dung Dalat has skillfully weaved the records together with his crisp, simple and lively arrangements.

Mai Khoi kicks off a slow, sexy, romantic, pop-rock flavor on “Tinh Ca Hong” then Ho Quynh Huong rocks up a shiny mid-tempo on “Xa.” Quang Ly is one of my favorite Vietnamese ballad singers, but he’s not completely sold me on “Tinh Khuc.” His penchant for over-pronounced diacritical marks (specifically the diphthong with centering offglide like “cũng”) sounds irritating. It’s definitely Quoc Bao’s fault. Viet Thanh who is unknown to me yet has thrilled me with his charming, powerful voice on “Anh Yeu Em.” Ho Quynh Huong returns with another hypnotizing mid-tempo on “Tinh Nhu Trai Chin Muon.”

If I have to pick one track from Q+B, it has to be “Quynh.” Tung Duong sounds soulful and mesmerizing. He has his way of adapting his style into song instead of singing a song in his style. Hoa T. Tran is the least impressive vocalist on the album, yet he impresses me the most in playing and experimenting with his voice. The best part of “Dep Thuong Dau” is the little scat he pulls off near the end.

In the past few years, Phuong Thanh tries to mellow out, but nothing seemed to work. She sounded worn out and lazy. On her new release, The Best of Tinh 2010, she returns to her signature style: soaring from the pussy. Revisiting her breakthrough hits like “Trong Vang,” “Tinh Co” “Lo Lam” and “Hay Ve Voi Em,” she roars like a lion in a long and painful labor. At times, her vocal cords seem to burst from screaming too hard. In these new recordings, the producer had wisely kept the accompaniments simple—mostly with an acoustic guitar—to show off the Phuong Thanh effects: rough and raw on the surface, yet sweet and soulful underneath. This collection reminds us of how she had dominated the Vietnamese pop scene a decade ago.

When I first started my blog, I wanted to improve my writing, but I didn’t know what to write. I decided on reviewing music because I constantly listen to music. When I work, when I drive, when I eat and even when I go to sleep, music was always around me. Music always put me into a mood. I get emotional, excited or even sleepy and I wanted to just write down how I feel when I listen to a song or an entire album.

I struggled tremendously trying to find the right words to describe my thoughts on something I have heard. I began to read any music reviews I could get my hands on and wrote down passages that sounded good to me or something I would have said on my own. I have filled two notebooks of little sentences and paragraphs (mostly from jazz writing) I have collected.

So when I began to review an album, I would listen to it the first time straight through. Then I would listen again track by track and take notes. I then go back into my notebooks and search for the sentences that best described what I wanted to say. When I put my piece together, I revised the sentences and made it all my own.

Once I got the first sentence down, the rest came easy. That first sentence is always important to me because it has to be catchy. Sometimes just the first sentence alone would take me half an hour to write and I can’t write the whole piece until I get that first sentence. The entire process could take me up to two hours to write one album.

I slowly began to move away from the notebooks and just began to write on my own. I still read reviews and write down things that I liked, but I hardly refer back to them when I write. Nowadays, a review could be written in one commuting trip, which is around half an hour. I can’t live without my MP3 player.

In the past five years, I have penned 597 music reviews ranging from Vietnamese to jazz to hip-hop to live concerts. These pieces come highly from my personal opinion. I am not a music critic and I am not trying to be one. I just want to write down how I feel and sometimes they are highly favorable and many times very offensive.

I don’t have any music training background other than a jazz history course I audited at Vassar College. That class was an ear-opening and made me appreciate the art of jazz and improvisation even more. I also enrolled in Music 101, but quickly dropped after two weeks of class. The course attempted to teach students to hear, write and read notes. I started to picked up technical terms, which was good. But then I tended to focus on the technical aspects and lost the emotional connection and my personal approach when listening to a piece of music. I started to pick out B-flat major and G minor instead of focusing on the sounds of music.

I don’t want to write like a musician. I just want to write the way I hear music. When listening to jazz, John Coltrane and Miles Davis for example, I am not interested in how they had done it, but the end result of how well they executed. I am more interested in the feelings Coltrane brought rather than how high he could blow. I am more interested in the tones and the moods Miles played rather than the notes.

For singers, I am interested in the way they convey the lyrics than the way they scream at the top of their lung. Billie Holiday for example, I don’t care how she played with the timing, but I do care the way expressed the lyrics and the placement of words without losing the tempo. (Listen to her phrasing in “All the Way.”)

In retrospection, I had fun writing about music and get to share my thoughts with my readers. Although it has taken quite a chunk of my free time, the investment was worthwhile in improving my English. It takes more discipline than simply writing a journal.

Asia latest release was politic free? That was so unreal, but when the production left out two propaganda papas (Nam Loc and Viet Dzung), it did happen. With just two sexy (and pretty silly half of the time) MCs, Thuy Duong and Bao Chau, holding down the floor, Ngay Tan Hon (The Wedding Day) was entertaining.

It was about time Asia came up with a creative concept by combing wedding fashion with music, but let’s hope that we won’t see too many sequels like Mua He Ruc Ro, Da Vu Quoc Te and Bon Mua. One wedding show was enough already. And unlike most of Asia previous releases, Asia 63 was filmed in a studio and not a concert hall.

One of the standout video was Nguyen Khang’s jazzy version of Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Mong Duoi Hoa.” The black and white film gave the performance a classic vibe and Nguyen Khang carried the tune with calmness and confidence. Ho Hoang Yen delivered a sexy rendition of Hoang Nguyen’s “Bai Tango Rieng Cho Em.” She didn’t need to reveal all that cleavage, but it didn’t hurt. Y Phuong did a fine job of covering Hoang Thi Tho’s “Ta Tinh” with her soaring alto.

On the flip side, the duet between Philip Huy and Thuy Huong was kind of yucky, as if a father and a daughter telling each “love me with all of your heart.” Another horrendous pair was Trish and Mai Thanh Son. Their vocals were just awful. Doanh Doanh was doing her Chinese tune as usual and Doan Phi was dancing like he had a bee in his pants. The rest of the show were passable, but the fashion design would prevent viewers from pressing the fast-forward button.