Trieu Hoang’s seventh release, Xuc Cam, takes damn near three years to complete, yet the quality pays off. The lyrical contents are forgettable, but the flows and the productions are memorable. Right off the opening track, “Buong Xui,” producer/songwriter Nguyen Hong Hai crafted a wicked beat (rock-pop with a club flavor) to go with Trieu Hoang’s throaty voice. The result is stunning. The title track gets even better with just Trieu Hoang pouring is heart out on nothing else but the solo piano. Unfortunately Trieu Hoang’s own tunes bring down the album. “Hen Uoc” is straight Chinese-melody jacked and “Yeu” is just ill-rhymed. Even a top-notch production can’t save lyrics like this: “Moi dem anh ngu anh mo / Chi thay em ma thoi (Every night I sleep I dream / I only see you).”

An impressionistic work of art, Unit Structures is chaotic, energetic, yet tightly controlled. From the opening “Steps,” jazz avant-garde Cecil Taylor leads his septet into the world of abstraction. His percussive piano bursts like fireworks on 4th of July allowing the reed section to roar with ferocity. Like many of Taylor’s albums, Unit Structures is not so pleasing on the first spin. Time, patience and opening ears are required to appreciate the masterpieces.

“It’s music, and I like it,” Miles Davis responded when being asked if his 1959 release, Sketches of Spain, was really jazz. 50 years later, the provocative collaboration between Miles Davis and Gil Evans on the Latin flavors still sounds as fresh as it was first recorded. What makes this album so damn delicious is the way Gil Evans’ sensual, textual arrangements hugged like clouds around Davis’ fragile, pointed trumpet. The legacy edition includes extraordinary materials, such as alternates and live version of “Concierto de Aranjuaz.”

One of the cool things about jazz is that you could make any classic tune sounds fresh if you have the right chops to do it. The proof? Check out Sophie Milman’s third release, Take Love Easy, and her tasty, sexy rendition of “My One and Only Love” in particular. She has the sultry voice, an impeccable sense of rhythm and a gift for interpretation to not only reinvigorate jazz standards (Duke Ellington’s “Take Love Easy”, Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale” and Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “Triste”), but also give rock tunes (Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire” Paul Simon’s “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover” and Joni Mitchell’s “Be Cool”) new flavors. Her distinctive version of “Day In, Day Out” (music by Rube Bloom and lyrics by Johnny Mercer) and “Beautiful Love” are highly addictive.

If you thought Duc Tuan’s rounded tone and over pronunciation in Vietnamese were hair-raising, wait to hear you hear him sings in English. Music of the Night is Duc Tuan’s worst concept album up to date simply because he covers Broadway tunes in English. His voice gets under my skin right from the opening track. The only reason I could get through the album is the sensational productions from Ignace Lai. The good thing about Duc Tuan is that his accompaniment has always been top quality. This album could have worked if the lyrics were translated into Vietnamese and he straightened up his quiver delivery. He has a gorgeous tenor for Broadway songs and great orchestration backing him up. Duc Tuan needs to open up his ears and listen to himself.

As if Ngoc Dai himself isn’t bizarre enough already, he recruited two berserk vocalists, Thanh Lam and Linh Dung, to bring life and depth to his music. While the group’s self-titled debut is not easy to absorb, loving Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, Bjork, Tung Duong and Ngoc Khue makes it feel right home with Dai Lam Linh and its avant-garde direction.

The leadoff track, “Cay Nu Tu” displays the band’s eccentric skill of weaving jazz, rock, ambient and traditional Vietnamese folks into uncompromising vocal deliveries. Near the end of the piece, the duo vocalists sounded like two voodoo chicks tearing out each other’s hair. Backing up by spare piano, thumping bass and soothing Vietnamese zither, “Chieu” starts out calm, but progressed into the type of chaos that help folks get their freak on.

On “Det Tam Gai,” they completely erased Tran Thu Ha’s version and make it their own. Whereas Tran Thu Ha caressed and massaged a pretty melody, they simply fuck it up with their buck-wild dissonances. The voices move beyond words and become instruments on “Dua Tre” to evoke the sentiment surrounding loss and death. Ngoc Dai didn’t bring them on board to sing his tunes. They lived, breathed and sometimes make luscious love to them.

In the age when pop imitation ruins the Vietnamese music scene, it’s a real treat to hear something not just out of the ordinary, but way out there. These tracks will burn into your ears like no other. I am gamed.

Take a peep at Dai Lam Linh’s live performances.

If you want to learn the art of swinging and singing behind the beat, the virtuosity of timing and the mastery of storytelling, just listen to every track on Billie’s Best. The album has been in heavy rotation on my iTunes even though I usually don’t like this type of compilation.

POP stands for product of production. To make a successful pop record, the beat has to be solid. Producer Thanh Tam single-handedly puts Ho Bich Ngoc on the pop-r&b map with his flossy, ear-candy productions on her new release Buoc Ke Tiep.

“Mot Ngay Moi” demonstrates Thanh Tam’s producing craftsmanship. The arrangement is an ingenious blend of jazz and r&b, in which the chime, the horn and the scatting added textures and colors to the bouncy beat. Ho Bich Ngoc’s slightly gruff voice drives home the track, which, by the way, is also written by Thanh Tam.

Vocally speaking, Ho Ngoc Bich weaves many r&b nuances in her phrasing, which comes off annoying at times. “Van Mong Duoc Ben Anh” is where she sounds most natural. The beat is also groovy and the Vietnamese rapping/chanting is intriguing.

Not every track hits the mark and some productions even sound mechanical like the slow ballad “Loi Nhan Nhu” and r&b “Co Khi Nao.” The remix of “Co Khi Nao,” however, is a whole different animal, thanks to the hard-hitting trance beat. Buoc Ke Tiep is perhaps the next big step for Ho Bich Ngoc.

Thanh Lam and Le Minh Son reunite once again on a new release, Noi Binh Yen. Thanks goodness that Thanh Lam has toned her vibrato down a notch. The first two tracks, Le Minh Son’s “Noi Binh Yen” and “Em Yeu Anh,” are the proofs. Over the soothing semi-classical arrangements, she delivered each song in a relaxed, laid-back approach.

Even though she whipped up her pipe on the classical-pop “Goc Nho Rieng Em,” she did it just about right to bring out the emotion of the tune. The smartest move she made was abandoning her operatic screaming. On Nguyen Vinh Tien’s “A Nho Anh,” she recruited an opera vocalist to do the soprano soaring for her and Bich Thuy has done a damn fine job of wrapping her ghostly voice around Thanh Lam’s smoky timbre. Unlike Bich Thuy’s opposite attraction, Tung Duong is a perfect match for Thanh Lam. Their duet on Le Minh Son’s “Buon” is simply luscious and Trung Dong’s seductive trumpet added a sensational sadness to the jazz flavor.

Thanh Lam sounds most sincere on “May Trua Da Ngu.” Through Duong Thu’s lovely lyrics and Duc Tan’s delicious piano playing, she gives us a glimpse into the heart and soul of Thanh Lam as a mother. Glad to see Thanh Lam got over her dramatic hump. Noi Binh Yen is an indispensable comeback since Nang Len.

Hai Yen has a serious pipe, but the materials on her debut, Va Anh Se Den, are mediocre. Quang Duc’s pop-rock “Chi Con Toi Voi Toi” is a vocal workout while Ky Phuong’s “Nhac Khuc Cho Tinh Yeu” is a romantic cool down. What keep the album from being sleepy is her occasional wailings.