“I was born with a dick in my brain / Fucked in the head / My stepfather said that I sucked in the bed / ‘Til one night he snuck in and said / We’re going out back, I want my dick sucked in the shed,” Eminem rhymes on “Insane.” The dark, disturbing track about child raping off his new release, Relapse, attests that the lyrical monster is back after five years on hiatus.

What had he been doing during those time? After his disappointed Encore, Em spent four years between overdosing and going in and out of rehab. Drug is in his blood and he blames his mom for it: “Valium was in everything food that I ate / The water that I drank fucking peas on my plate / She sprinkled just enough of it the seas in my steak / So everyday I have at least three stomach aches.” Only last year that he returned to rap instead of drug to get high.

Although Em has been away for quite a bit, he proves to be at the top of his game. He never delivers the same way twice and Dr. Dre’s minimal grooves allow him to push his flows and concentrate on his lyrical wit. Still, he wastes way too much rhymes going after celebrities: Mariah Carey on “Bagpipes From Baghdad,” Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears on “Same Song & Dance” and a whole bunch of others on “We Made You.” But then again, a wicked cut like “Underground” testifies that Mr. Mathers still matters. Em is at his best when he spits his anguish and personal experience.

Vuong Dung’s debut, Trai Cam Mat Troi, was awesome, but her new follow-up Dzung is just awful. Whereas the first was a clever concept, the second is all over the place. She ditched her contemporary folks signature for soft, electric pop. Throughout the album she either sounds like Thanh Lam or Ngoc Khue. The album-closer “Son” (an upbeat folk tune written by Duc Nghia) is the only track that she actually sounds like Vuong Dung. It’s a damn shame to see a stallion going down in the pop race.

Inspired by the critical praises on her recording of Trinh Cong Son’s “Con Tuoi Nao Cho Em,” a simple rendition accompanied by an acoustic picking guitar, Hien Thuc releases Portrait 17, an entire Trinh songbook. Although she is wise enough to pick his less well-known repertoire, she is not smartening up enough to stick with simplicity.

The glossy productions take away the essence of Trinh’s lyricism. The new age vibe on “Chieu Tren Que Huong Toi” is a proof. The electric groove replaces the image of homeland (que huong) with some fantasy planet. Along with the slick r & b beat and Kenny G-style saxophone, her emotionless vocals put “Ve Trong Suoi Nguon” into a lazy afternoon. On the mid-tempo “Niu Tay Nghin Trung,” Tung Duong damn near pushes her off the track.

The turning point of the album is “Cuoi Cung Cho Mot Tinh Yeu” where she returns to acoustic arrangement. The classical-orchestrated “Muon Trung Bien Khoi” would have been exceptional if she could control her breath and eliminated the snoozing sax. The original version of “Con Tuoi Nao Cho Em” is also included as a bonus track. It’s an honest effort, but it is also apparent that Hien Thuc lacks the experience to take Trinh’s music to its fullest. Portrait 17 proves that point.

Asia’s latest DVD, Nhat Truong, Tran Thien Thanh 2, depresses the living hell out of me. I can’t get my mind off the image of Bang Tam with her forehead busted open lying in the hospital bed dying while bombs exploding in the background. The entire scene was so disturbing that I wish I didn’t get to it. In fact, I wish I didn’t watch the entire video at all. Now I can’t help feeling deeply sorry for our Vietnamese music.

She is like a cow being trapped in the box allowing Asia and other productions to milk every last drop out of her and preventing her from growing. When was the last time a new, original Vietnamese song was introduced in these videos? Tran Thien Thanh had quite a number of popular tunes and most of them were written in Borolo. Asia didn’t even bother to give them a new arrangement. Sitting through an entire Borolo rhythm with occasional upbeat is quite torturing.

Then again, we can’t really point the figure at these productions. As long as they could sell out their concerts and videos, why not repeating the concept? We need to step up our game before the productions could do their part. It’s all about supplies and demands. Save our music and give her a chance to grow.

With a deep, rich tenor voice and a classy taste, Thuy Vu recorded some of the most romantic ballads on his debut Thang Sau Troi Mua. In fact, my wife and I used his sensational rendition of Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Niem Khuc Cuoi” as a theme song for our wedding. Thang Sau Troi Mua is one of the albums that never grow out of me. I can just come back to it from time to time and still enjoy it.

In his long-waited, second follow-up, Tinh Khuc Thang Sau, Thuy Vu continues into the romantic path, but with a subtle touch of jazz. Dinh Hung and Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Mong Duoi Hoa” gets a bossa nova cover and his lust, cello-like baritone gets me every time. I am not ashamed to confess that I am totally gay for his bluesy take on Tran Thien Thanh’s “Nguoi Yeu Toi Khoc.” He also had done a great job of chucking the schmaltz out of “Lau Dai Tinh Ai” (from Tran Thien Thanh as well). The mid-tempo, funk groove adds a new flavor to the song.

The tempo for Y Van’s “Ao Anh” is a bit too fast. The brushwork behind his bass tone would have created a much better result. The somewhat disappointed track is Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Rieng Mot Goc Troi.” I was not looking for a better than a Tuan Ngoc version, but something completely different. Vocally, they are at the other end of the spectrum, which is good, but the saxophone killed it. Instead of accommodating the voice, the sax fights against it.

Like Thang Sau Troi Mua, Tinh Khuc Thang Sau (he must love June or something) shows Thuy Vu’s passion and admiration for the timeless ballads. He eases back, focuses on the lyrics and lets the sublime arrangements from Dinh Bao do the revitalization.

Melody Gardot found her love for music after a severe car accident that caused her sensitive to sight and sound as well as left her with short-term memory loss. Since Gardot played the piano before she was hit by an SUV while riding her bicycle, a doctor encouraged her to use music as a form of therapy. Now, Gardot is an outstanding musician with a style of her own.

Gardot’s newest release, My One and Only Thrill, featured exceptional originals and a sensational cover. By wrapping her smoky timbre around the Brazilian rhythm, she gives Harold Arlen’s classic, “Over the Rainbow,” a refreshing flavor. From “Baby I’m a Fool” to “Deep Within the Corners of My Mind” she takes us on a journey of soul-searching and bittersweet introspection through her personal stories and honest deliveries backing up by Vince Mendoza’s lust, wistful orchestration.

Although Gardot’s lack of training in jazz is apparent on her scatting on “If the Stars Were Mine” (the way she rolls her Rs is somewhat irritating), her confidence in experimentation is made up for it. It’s not about technique; it’s about exploration. My One and Only Thrill testifies that if you like Norah Jones, Madeleine Peyroux and Diana Krall, you’ll dig Melody Gardot.

Quach Thanh Danh used to imitate Tuan Ngoc; now he is imitating Manh Dinh. On his fifth solo, Chuyen Hen Ho, the dude gets super wimpy. He sings like a pussy on the title track and dramatizes the shit out of “Ngon Truc Dao,” “Lanh Tron Dem Mua” and other “sen” songs with his campy phrasings. It’s a damn shame to witness such a great potential get sabotaged by the mainstream.

This dude fooled me. It takes me halfway into his debut Chang Trai De Thuong to realize that he is a dude. The title track is quite misleading. At first, I thought the singer was singing about a cute boy, but he actually sings about himself. “Kut Kit” is another track that is impossible to tell it’s a male voice. Move over Bang Kieu, Thanh Duy is the new bitch on the scene.

Nguyen Khang is a cool, very down-to-earth fellow. He was quite animated when we talked about music and the Vietnamese music scenes both in Viet Nam and abroad. It was fantastic to hear his side of the whole industry in his wit manner. He showed tremendous admiration for Tuan Ngoc and often spoke highly of him.

In our last conversation, I took him back to his pre-big-production days when he used less technique and more feeling in his singing. From “Chieu Mua Thu Ha Noi” to “Em Oi Ha Noi Pho” to “Da Khuc Cho Tinh Nhan” to the live recording of “Tinh Khuc Thu Nhat,” the rawness in his voice and his unrestrained delivery mesmerized me. His take on the pop hit “Hay Ve Voi Anh” was a phenomenal and yet he cut it in less then ten minutes. At the time Nguyen Khang was fairly new to the game. He was free from all the pressures and all of the burdens. All he had to do was going into the studio and singing his heart out. The producer already picked out the tunes for him.

He felt that Pham Duy’s music is not suited for his voice, yet his version of “Con Chut Gi De Nho” almost put me to tear. I was driving home from work one day on the cold, lonely road in Poughkeepsie and the tune struck my chord. The way he phased “Ở đây buổi chiều quanh năm mùa đông” sounded as if he could feel my lonesomeness and despondency at the time. In this icy, miserable place, I was thankful for that special someone, “May mà có em đời còn dễ thương.”

When we walked toward the bar, chicks just came up and kissed him. Despite all the limelight and all the love he gets from the female fans, he is still a very lonesome soul deep inside. Listen to his version of “Tim Ve Chon Hoang Vu” (Bruce Doan and Nguyen Ha) and Pham Duy’s “Tam Su Goi Ve Dau” and you’ll feel him. Enjoy the selection.

P.S. I love you too, man!

I finally dragged my old ass to Diamond club for the first time last night and it was a rambunctious site. I am indeed too old for this shit. The techno DJ was loud; the band was even louder. It was just depressing to watch Nguyen Khang wasted his voice in the joint.

My main purpose for going to the club was to approach Nguyen Khang about my ideal concert. After his first set, which I can’t even remember what he sang, we went backstage to discuss my concept. We had a good conversation and I really felt his pain. The industry is killing him. He needs to be resuscitated. I can still see the fire in him when he gave a heartfelt rendition of Nguyen Anh 9’s “Co Don.” It was undeniably the best performance of the night. That was the real moment of Nguyen Khang pouring his soul over the simple-backing keyboard.

Although, I have to admit, his upbeat version of “Delilah” was quite catchy, he doesn’t belong in that club. He deserves an intimate setting with real accompaniments. He liked my idea and encouraged me to make it happen. We’ll get there some day.

Even though my ears are still buzzing for all the noise last night, I had a good time. Thanks to Khanh Le, a new friend who is an artist I have met through Visualgui.com, for accompanied me last night. I also ran into an old friend from Lancaster who celebrated his birthday at the club. I am sure the club makes some nice revenue off the drinks. I had a few shots of Patrón, which was $12 a pop. Big shout out to my wonderful wife for cutting me lose for the night. Thanks for the trust, baby!