Out of the blue, I received a package from songwriter Pham Anh Dung. It turned out to be an unofficial copy of an album titled Quynh Ca with a sticky note reads: “Donny, I have enjoyed reading your web site (Visualgui).” I was flattered and immediately popped in the CD.

Quynh Ca is a compilation of Pham Anh Dung’s poetry-turned-music compositions about Quynh flower. “Quynh,” the only tune PAD had written the lyrics himself, gets a sensual, intimate performance by Dieu Hien whose voice is slightly raspy and simply intoxicating. There are two versions of “Dem Nguyet Quynh” (poem by Vuong Ngoc Long). I have not heard of Xuan Thanh before, but her take is much more soulful than Bao Yen’s. The track starts off with a poem’s recitation backing up by the Vietnamese zither and flute. Xuan Thanh’s gorgeous soprano floats like a nightingale in a dark sky. Who else could express “Quynh Lan” (poem by Pham Ngoc) better than Quynh Lan herself? Her recording of “Quynh Nhu,” “Quynh Le” and “Voi Quynh” are no less hypnotizing.

After the first spin, I was impressed. I contacted PAD to get more information about the album to write a review. Unfortunately, Quynh Ca is only a “burn” album for friends. Still, the concept of Quynh is so clever that I decided to mention it. If any singer wants to cut a themed album, this is the way to go. Hint. Hint. Hint.

Like most of Thuy Nga’s typical video releases, Paris By Night 96: Nhac Yeu Cau 2 is more on cleavage and less on content. Unlike its musical presentation, which shows no sign of innovation, Thuy Nga tends to push the sexual visual to the edge.

Take Tu Quyen’s and Nhu Loan’s “Lien Khuc Hoi Nguoi Tinh” for example. Most of the time, the singers are the main attraction and the dancers are just the supplement. In this case, the dancers who wore nothing but white panties and covering themselves up with a white piece of cloth damn near pushed Tu Quyen out of the frame even though she looked cute. Even when the topless dancers left the stage, Nhu Loan couldn’t top those sensual broads. Although Thuy Van can’t carry a note, she sure knows how to present her body. As always, she looked trashy but sexy. I am not mad at her though. Someone has to entertain married and bored Vietnamese men. Paris By Night is the alternative venue for those of us who can’t make it to Café Lu or Di Vang 2.

By fulfilling the popular demands, Nhac Yeu Cau 2 is filled with Chinese-translated hits (“Tinh Em Ngon Nen”), “Medley New Wave 80” and sentimental ballads like “Thoi Doi” and “Nhung Doi Hoa Sim.” Although Tran Thai Hoa sounded weak in “Tuong Niem,” he gave a surprisingly decent performance of traditional folks with Ngoc Ha. Quang Tuan made his first appearance on Thuy Nga’s stage with Y Lan. They don’t seem to go well together on stage. While he looked like a piece of rock, she looked like a piece of gum.

The diva duet between Bang Kieu and Tran Thu Ha was nothing novelty, but Bang Kieu’s acting in Nguyen Ngoc Ngan’s skit, “Ao Em Chua Mat Mot Lan,” was. He has the perfect voice for the character. Mr. Ngan is very clever in his gay-bashing/embracing storyline. (He first slammed you in the face then handed you an icepack.)

If I have to pick one song from Nhac Yeu Cau 2, it has to be Ngoc Anh’s “Giet Nguoi Trong Mong.” With her gruff voice, she gave Pham Duy’s tune a killer rendition.

If we were to show up an hour late at Madeleine Peyroux’s performance on Saturday at Lisner Auditorium, we still didn’t miss a damn thing. At 8:00, a white dude in flannel shirt and jeans opens the show for her. He strummed his guitar and sang about something that left me clueless for forty-five minutes. Peyroux and her band didn’t show up until 9:00.

With a guitar on her hands and a quartet made up of electric guitar, drums, bass (mostly electric) and piano (sometimes organ), she performed her original works from her latest album, Bare Bones, along with some previous hits including “Dance Me to the End of Love.” Vocally, Peyroux has proved that she is no longer in Billie Holiday’s shadow. Her phrasing marked more intricate. She toyed around with notes and abandoned the melody altogether at times. On slow tunes, she eases back to the point of sleepiness and the bad sound engineering, which cut in and out of her vocals and caused feedback, brought down her delivery.

On Serge Gainsbourg’s “La Javanaise,” Peyroux put on her hat and along with her band members scattered around her, she took us back to the street of Paris. Her French singing was sensational and the accordion solo from her pianist was exotic, yet the best part was her drummer doing his brushwork on an empty HP cardboard box.

Peyroux closed out the show with the cheerful “Instead” and she cleverly introduced her band members. The last bar of the song went, “Get happy / She’s waitin’ for you by the telephone / So get back home!” She would then pointed to the bassist and declared, “Let’s walk home.” The bassist would give a walking bass solo. The guitarist was gliding home and the pianist was simply skipping home. Peyroux returned for an encore with an Obama-inspired “Somethin’ Grand,” a perfect tune to leave the audience with.

Nguyen Hong An is another male vocalist influenced by Tuan Ngoc. Unfortunately he could only sing and phrase like Tuan Ngoc on the low register. He is far from reaching Tuan Ngoc’s soaring octaves. As a result, Nguyen Hong An sounds dull and flat on Pham Duy’s “Hen Ho,” Trinh Cong Son’s “Ru Em Tung Ngon Xuan Nong” and Tam Nguyen’s “Va Lai Tinh Toi” (a Bang Kieu’s sky-rocketing signature). Supported by Viet Anh’s lifeless arrangements, Mua Xuan Dau Do is perfect for lounging in a lazy afternoon.

Dana and I left our little Duke yesterday for a few hours with his grandmother so we could head into D.C. to see the Dave Brubeck Quartet performed at Warner Theatre in concluding the Washington Performance Art Society’s 2008/2009 jazz season. It could be our last chance to see one of the jazz living legends. At 89, Brubeck could barely walk by himself, yet his playing showed no sign of aging.

He could still swing hard on Duke Ellington’s “Let’s Take the ‘A’ Train” even when he just played staccato chords on his right hand. With Bobby Militello (alto saxophone and flute), Michael Moore (bass) and Randy Jones (drums), Brubeck took Fred Waring’s “Sleep, Sleep, Sleep” into another direction like he had promised not to put us to sleep. With Brubeck’s virtuosity in both jazz and classical, he brought the two worlds closer through his brother Howard’s “Dialogues for Jazz Combo and Orchestra.” His classical piano solos were some of the most hypnotic moments of the show.

While the crowd was pleased as soon as Brubeck struck the “Take Five” chords and saluted with standing ovation at the end, I was left a bit disappointed. It’s unfair to compare Bobby Militello to Paul Desmond, but Militello’s playing was not as fluid as Desmond’s. The band completely dropped out when Jones soloed. Brubeck didn’t do his signature obstinato behind him either. Jones’s improvisation was a long and energy and I was anticipating in hearing Brubeck and Moore to follow up, but the band came back and took the tune out instead.

As we were leaving, I overheard a man telling a woman that if he were a musician, he would be glad if he could play like Brubeck, even in his 50’s. I am sure many musicians wish they could play a fraction like Brubeck, even in their 30’s.

On the sublime, live-set Unlimited Symphony, the Unlimited gives Vietnamese audience a taste of prog rock with the support of the HCMC Conservatory Orchestra conducted by Do Kien Cuong. While the rock-opera remake of “Phantom of the Opera” (featuring soprano vocalist Ngoc Tuyen) is less than desirable, the 21-minute rework of Le Thuong’s “Hon Vong Phu” epic is a brilliant incorporation of rock, classical and jazz elements into traditional folktale. Yet, on the rock-up cover of “Noi Vong Tay Lon,” in which the crowd went buck wild singing along to Trinh Cong Son’s lyrics, and the band’s original tunes are where the Unlimited truly brings the noise.

Love her or loathe her, Minh Tuyet is a pop phenomenon. While most of her peers come, shake up the music scene, and then gone, Minh Tuyet is going to be around for a long time. What is her secret recipe? She turns instant Ramen into a savory noodle house with Chinese-inflected flavors and doses of SMG prepared by the CEO of pop franchise Tung Chau.

With her new release, Da Khong Con Hoi Tiec, Minh Tuyet continues to hone her skill as an operatic actress of song, which is her ability to make even the most exaggerated lyrics convincing. On “I am Sorry,” the Vietglish chorus, “I am sorry, I am sorry, em van anh tron kiep loi thu tha,” seems laughable, but she comes across like she means every damn word she sings. On “Hoang Mang,” she phrases, “Vi anh lanh lung bang gia / con toi con tim that tha / Nen minh toi om long dem nhuc nhoi,” like an Academy-award winner, full of heart-breaking melodramas.

An old high school buddy of mine who used to work at Diamond informed me that Minh Tuyet packed the club every time she came through. Even though she likes to capture our heart, she doesn’t want to abandon our feet either. The Latin-groove “Trai Tim Trao Anh” and the title track are for her club heads.

Before many elites among us condemning me for giving such an artless artist a free pass, let me explain. As much as I want to smack her upside the head, I can’t hate her for getting paid by the industry to be mediocre. I don’t give up. I give in.

Tran Thai Hoa has never been an interpreter. He is an appreciator. With his latest release, he pays homage to Tinh Khuc Tien Chien (pre-war ballads) rather than reinvigorating them. No crime in that.

He reuses some of the formulas in the past that worked for him. Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “La Thu” gets a similar bluesy vibe he has recorded before, but it still sounds luscious with his charming voice. On the tango-flavor “Bong Chieu Ta” (Nhat Bang) and paso-double “Dung Buoc Giang Ho” (Hoang Trong), he proves once again that his vocals have rhythm for ballroom styles, even though his feet have none, as we have witnessed on Thuy Nga’s Celebrity Dancing.

With intimate arrangements, Tran Thai Hoa wraps his harmless pipe around the timeless tunes such as Vao Cao’s “Cung Dan Xua,” “Suoi Mo,” “Truong Chi,” Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “La Do Muon Chieu” and “Goi Gio Cho May Ngan Bay” like a latex condom. He plays safe, never breaks out of his comfort position and only sticks to what he could perform best. Then again, nothing’s wrong with getting pleasures out of protected sex. Of course, it’s not as stimulating, but still enjoyable.

Iggy Pop turns to jazz standards because he ”just got sick of listening to idiot thugs with guitars.” Although he takes inspiration from Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton, Préliminaires feels more like European pop than jazz. He flips “Les Feuilles Mortes,” one of the most covered jazz ballads, into a nihilistic French romance. On “King of the Dogs,” the only track that comes close to jazz, his low, raspy vocals drown out by the New Orlean jazz band. Dare I say that the Godfather of Punk ain’t got no chops for jazz? Prove me wrong, Mr. Iggy.

Her recent release, Desire, continues to show that Tierney Sutton is a gifted interpreter. She knows how to reinvigorate recognizable songs without losing their authenticity.

The classic “Love Me Or Leave Me” has been covered numerous times by great jazz singers like Lena Horn, Billie Holiday and Sarah Vaughan, yet Sutton still isn’t shy away from making it both whimsical and wistful. “Cry Me a River” also gets a sarcastic reinterpretation, which is Sutton’s signature style of singing words while suggesting the contrary. On the slow tempos, “Long Daddy Green” and “Then I’ll Be Tired of You,” Sutton’s phrasings demonstrate her deep appreciation for the passionate lyrics.

In addition to Sutton’s vocal artistry, the key success behind Desire is the backing of the hypnotic rhythm section, which consists of Christian Jacob on piano, Trey Henry/Kevin Axt on bass and particularly Ray Brinker’s pulsating rhythmic on the drums. Check out his double-time chops on “It’s Only a Paper Moon.”