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!

Who could be mad at a thirteen-year-old girl trying to swing like Ella? On her debut Ella… Of Thee I Swing recorded live at Montreal’s Place des Arts in 2007, Nikki Yanofsky perfected Ella’s chops on fast-tempo tunes like “Old McDonald,” “A Tisket, a Tasket” and “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Got That Swing).” She imitated not only Ella’s nimble style, but also her scat. Needless to say, her technical skill, particularly breath control, is nowhere near the First Lady of Song. She has a remarkable voice for her age, but lacks the experience to fully articulate the blues on “Evil Gal Blues” and “Ain’t Got Nothing But the Blues.” She needs a few more years to develop her potential.

Over the year, I had been to a number of Vietnamese concerts in Virginia and all of them disappointed me. Singers sounded like they came to do their job and the bands lacked passion and imagination. The only concert that still stood out to me was Thu Phuong in Toronto I went to two years ago. What was so great about that night was that Thu Phuong owned the stage, even though she was accompanied by the Canadian jazz band. She didn’t sing jazz, but the jazzy vibes appealed to the mass audience. My brother-in-law and his friend loved the show even though they are not jazz freaks.

So if I have it my way, I would love to bring that experience to Virginia and also heighten it up a notch by giving the musicians more freedom to improvise. The GW’s faculty quartet would be a perfect band to accompany as well as to improvise. The pianist has some Monk’s chops and classical licks. The drummer is from Latin America who could kick some real nice bossa nova rhythm. The bassist could walk and talk like Ron Carter. The saxophonist has some of Coltrane’s influence. I would also throw in a student trumpeter who blew down the house at every jam session.

So if I have an opportunity to organize a concert, I would invite Thu Phuong to kick off the first show. She could attract both the popular audience as well as the aficionados. I have Tung Duong in mind too, but he is too way out there for the first concert. The show would feature only 10 to 15 tunes and I would limit to just Trinh Cong Son’s songbook. To keep the concert spontaneous, Thu Phuong can only meet with the band once to make sure everyone is on the same keys. She would not have to sing jazz. She would start off with the first verse and let the band take over to improvise. She would then return to take the tune out.

Yes, I do recognize that it is easier said than done, but I hope someday we can do it even though I have no experience in organizing a show. Is it feasible to do? How many of you would come to a concert like this?

As the title hinted, Diana Krall’s newest release is best experienced during Quiet Nights. From the opening “Where or When” to the bonus-closing “Every Time We Say Good Bye,” Krall delivered the entire bossa nova-flavored album in a relaxed, mellow tone. Together with her quartet and Claus Ogerman, master of Brazilian-tinged orchestration, Krall breathes calm and breezy air into the title tune, “So Nice” (love her tasty piano chops) and other standards.

Jane Monheit’s latest release, The Lovers, The Dreamers and Me, is not an easy-listening one. It may take some patience and shots of espresso to get through the entire disc. Except for the light swing on “Get Out of Town,” the tempos are slow and sometimes dead slow. Her sweet, rounded voice combined with the doleful orchestration makes tunes like “Ballad of the Sad Young Men,” “Slow Like Honey” and “I Do It For Your Love” sound super sleepy. On “Lucky to Be Me,” her languorous phrasings drag the melody into an indolent afternoon. “Rainbow Connection” perfectly ends the album with a lullaby. As unexciting as it might be, the album does come to life in the stillness of the night when everything else is asleep.

I know I have praised her numerous of time already, but Billie Holiday was a true jazz legend. The more I listen to her the more I discover her unique talent. In addition to her ability to express every word she sang, she broke many rules. Unlike many jazz singers, Lady Day never scatted or altered the lyrics. Instead, she improvised on the timing, the phrasing and the placing of notes. As a result, she could turn any standard into her own no matter how many times the tune had been covered.

Lady In Satin is one of my personal favorite Billie’s records. At this point in her career, she only seemed to be interested in expressing the lyrics and her interpretation of “The End of a Love Affair” is simply heartbreaking. To my astonishment, Billie didn’t even know the song. In a bonus track, which captures the recording session of “The End of a Love Affair,” Billie told the producer, “I don’t know it. Mel, please try to put much noise as you can and loud as you can. I don’t know the tune.”

Although Billie didn’t know the song, she recorded it right on the spot. Like an instrumentalist, she listened to the band playing and then sang along behind the beat with her very own interpretation. Now that is some serious improvisations.