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.”

Jazz has always been about collaboration. Even if the musicians have never played with each other before, they have to work together as a team to bring out the beauty and the liveliness of jazz. The most challenging aspect of jazz collaboration is not how well each individual play, but how well he plays with his partners despite stylistic differences. How did Ella Fitzgerald’s girlish voice and Louis Armstrong’s gruff voice worked out so marvelously? How did Thelonious Monk’s choppy piano style flow with John Coltrane’s fluid saxophone? How did Chick Corea’s virtuosic piano meet Bela Fleck’s virtuosic banjo? Here is a list of 20 collaborative albums I have enjoyed enormously. The albums are listed in alphabetical order instead of from top to bottom. I cannot put a ranking to these works because it would be like comparing apple to orange:

At Basin Street (Clifford Brown & Max Roach)
The Avant-Garde (John Coltrane & Don Cherry)
Ben Webster Meets Oscar Peterson (Ben Webster & Oscar Peterson)
Corea/Hancock (Chick Corea & Herbie Hancock)
Ella and Louis (Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong)
The Enchantment (Chick Corea & Bela Fleck)
First Time! The Count Meets the Duke (Duke Ellington & Count Basie)
Getz Gilberto (Stan Getz & João Gilberto)
Immortal Concerts New York City, Birdland Club. 1954 (Art Blakey & Clifford Brown)
John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman (John Coltrane & Johnny Hartman)
The Complete Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington Sessions (Louis Armstrong & Duke Ellington)
Louis Armstrong Meets Oscar Peterson (Louis Armstrong & Oscar Peterson)
Metheny Mehldau Quartet (Pat Metheny & Brad Mehldau)
Side by Side (Itzhak Perlman & Oscar Peterson)
Sketches of Spain (Miles Davis & Gil Evans)
Skol (Oscar Peterson & Stephane Grapelli)
Somethin’ Else (Cannonball Adderley & Miles Davis)
Sonny Meets Hawk! (Sonny Rollins & Coleman Hawkins)
Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (Thelonious Monk & John Coltrane)
Two Men with the Blues (Wille Nelson & Wynton Marsalis)

Bo Suu Tap 09 is a collection of standards covered by journalist-turned-singer Khoi Minh. Although he has a masculine, harmless voice, he lacks the swag, range and interpretive imagination to make the timeless tunes his own. His rendition of Trinh Cong Son’s “Chieu Mot Minh Qua Pho” is a disastrous, particularly when he tries to give it a jazzy feel. On the duet of Thanh Tung’s “Em va Toi,” Ha Tran smokes his ass like a piece of dried steak with her luscious vocals. Even Do Bao’s and Cuong Nguyen’s productions couldn’t supply wind to his deserted flow. Dude, don’t quit your day job.

The 23-year-old, Borneo-born Zee Avi possesses a sultry, smoky voice that is a reminiscent of Norah Jones. If you think Jones sounds sleepy, Avi sounds even sleepier. On her self-titled debut, she sings herself to slumberland with incredibly banal lyrics: “My phone was on silent / I was at the gym.” Accompanied by a drowsy acoustic picking guitar, “Slow Hands” and “No Christmas for Me” are perfect for insomnolence.

On the new release, Crime Pays, Cam’Ron tries to remake Purple Haze
without the help of the super producers. He uses the same formulas: lazy lyricism, misogynistic masculinity and pitiful punchlines. His wacky wordplays are ranging from hilarious (“And they say I’m a son of bitch / Why? Cause I’ll be with your son and your bitch”) to just downright silly (“I’m on a Yamaha / Laughing like hahaha”). Although Crime Pays is nowhere near the classic Purple Haze, Cam’s impeccable flow proves that he is still the finest laziest rapper.

Thanh Lam’s beyond-maudlin singing is inescapable. Her newest acoustic jazz release has only eight tracks, yet it is so damn painful to get through. On Vu Quang Trung’s “Anh Yeu Em,” her moaning and groaning are just unbearable. The way she drags and stresses every word on Duc Huy’s “Mua Dong Sap Den” is hair-raising. Let’s be clear that making some horny noises is not scatting. As much as I like to hear Thanh Lam experimenting jazz, she just doesn’t have the chops for it. The more she tries; the more dreadful she sounds. It might be true that jazz is not in our blood.