By the time Round About Midnight released, Miles Davis had disbanded his group and moved on to a new musical direction. Nevertheless, this album is one of his finest works. His Harmon-muted solos on Thelonious Monk’s “’Round Midnight” are just achingly beautiful. Every note he played is streamlined and refined to create a deep emotional impact. Unlike Charlie Parker, Davis stripped down everything on “Au Leu-Cha” and only played the most essential notes. It’s the thoughtfulness in his phrasings that made him stood out.

Miles Davis couldn’t cut a bad record if he wanted to. Even his experimentations were good. Circle in the Round is a compilation of his conceptual ideas from 1955 to 1970. Starting out with up-tempo “Two Bass Hit” from the Kind of Blue session and ending with David Crosby’s space-out “Guinnevere” from the Bitches Brew session, this album showcases Davis’ expansive musical sketches.

On the day Barack Obama won the 2008 presidential election, Seal’s rendition of Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come” hit YouTube. The timing was perfect and the cover was promising. Unfortunately the album, Soul, doesn’t live up to the lead-off track. Seal is a fine singer with a fantastic tenor of a voice, but he hardly brings anything fresh to the classic souls. When it comes to soul, the production has to be slow, simple and sensual. Too many embellishments would get in the way of the vocalist. Seal’s soulful voice is drowned in the polished orchestrations and mid-tempo beats. His version of Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me” is instantly forgettable.

Bao Yen’s new release, Chieu Ha Vang, under Asia production is surprisingly good. She has the ability to maneuver her way across pop hits and sentimental ballads. Her phrasings aren’t over-the-top dramatic like most “sen” singers and the raucousness in her voice helps cutting away the syrupy crap.

Over Asia’s streamlined productions, Bao Yen soars like a bird with a wounded wing on Tran Thien Thanh’s “Mot Doi Yeu Anh” and cuts to the pathos of Truc Phuong’s “Thoi Doi” as if she has lived the lyrics. Elsewhere she brings the pain on the Tuan Khanh’s shouting-rock “Tra No Tinh Xa” and gives a sensual rendition of Quoc Dung’s “Coi Mong.”

Although the album is all over the place, Bao Yen has proven that she could take on whatever being thrown at her. From the opening title track, Nguyen Ba Nghiem’s “Chieu Ha Vang,” she seduces us with her “Hue” accent. On the closing “Niem Co Don Cuoi Cung” (Sy Dan and Vu Tuan Duc), she mesmerizes us with her rockability. And finally she makes us love “sen” ballad without having to feel embarrassed about it.

None of the tracks on Quang Tuan’s Bai Tinh Ca Trong Chieu (Tinh Khuc Thanh Trang Vol. 2) sticks. The cheap-ass productions are the main problem. Thanh Lam is not only an unimaginative producer, but he also seems to work in a studio that has not been upgraded since the 80s.

The title track jumps off with a hideous cha-cha drum loop that was popular in the mid to late 80s. “Mua Thu Ve Tham Me” features a smooth saxophone tone that would send you right to bed. Even the jazzy vibe on “Sai Gon Nho, Sai Gon Thuong” is so wimpy and lazy that it makes you think why bothered? Just let Quang Tuan gets his a cappella on. Wait, that would be boring still.

Quang Tuan has a warm, tender, somewhat guttural voice. He is a very relaxed singer and doesn’t like to show that he would break a sweat. Like Quang Dung, Quang Tuan is a productive machine without a bad track. Every song he sings is just about right. He barely gets out of his comfort range or rubs the notes the wrong way (as if it is sacrilegious to do so).

After listening to four of his albums straight (Gui Nguoi Em Gai, Huyen, Canh Hoa Duyen Kiep and this one), I am just yearning to return to Tuan Ngoc for some deep soul searching and octave skipping as well as Duy Cuong’s masterful orchestrations, especially on Pham Duy’s “Ky Niem,” Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “Gui Nguoi Em Gai” and Tu Cong Phung’s “Nhu Chiec Que Diem.”

When Ngoc Ha first left Thuy Nga for Asia, the speculation was that Asia doesn’t have the creative vision to take her beyond its competitor. I believed Asia could and her debut with Asia, Nuoc Mat Mua Thu, proved it. As we are waiting patiently to see what Asia has in store for her to surpass her previous works with Thuy Nga, Asia pulls together a bunch of songs she had lip-synced on its video productions and called it The Best of Ngoc Ha. Given that Ngoc Ha released only one album under Asia production, isn’t that a little bit too early for a retrospective? It sounds more like a cheap shot from Asia to cash in on recyclable products. It’s very disappointing.

Complete contrast to the older singer with the same name, the young Thanh Thuy has a clear, fragile soprano. Although her voice is gorgeous, she shorts the skills and experience to cover Pham Duy’s ballads. Her new release, Co Hong, features eight of Pham Duy’s standards including “Ngay Xua Hoang Thi,” “Em Le Chua Nay” and “Tim Nhau.” The lack of confidence is revealed through her weak deliveries and stiff phrasings. On each track, particularly “Dua Em Tim Dong Hoa Vang,” she hardly moves out of her comfort range and Bao Chan’s lifeless arrangements don’t help strengthen her performances either. With the exception of “Kiep Nao Con Co Nhau,” in which Bao Chan switches up a bit with a semi-classical orchestration, the album is consistently dull.

At 82, B.B. King proves that the bluesman still got the blues. On his latest release, One Kind Favor, Mr. King sings as if he’s drowning in sorrow and what keeps him afloat is the raucous shout in his voice. With a killer band behind him and his own stinging guitar, Mr. King touches the bottom of your soul track after track, including “Get the Blues Off Me,” “I Get So Weary” and “My Love is Down.”

It’s not a surprise that Ngoc Khue chooses to sing songs that are connected to her upbringing. It’s a surprise that she delivers them in such a restraint, stilted manner. Listen to her third album with a strange title, 365.hahoi.nk, which reads like a web address, one couldn’t picture how the beautiful, calm Ha Noi could turn Ngoc Khue into an eccentric sorcerer.

Gone are playful phrasings and wizard of flows that distinguish Ngoc Khue from the rest of the pop bubble. Ngoc Khue minus the wildness is simply boring. The closest cut that carries a bit of her idiosyncratic touches is Nguyen Vinh Tien’s “Ha Noi.” She alters her flow and soars like a songbird flying through Ho Tay. The blues solo piano on the break adds a fresh gleam to the tune. Ngoc Khue should have recorded his second album, Ngoi Tren Vach Nang, as well. Hoang Phuc Thang’s “Ha Noi Dem Mua Dong” has a nice blues-jazz groove, but she sounds retread. On Phu Quang and Quoc Chuong’s “Lang Dang Chieu Dong Ha Noi,” she suffers badly through the low notes. Her breathings are heavy and she sounds tired.

365.hahoi.nk is a well-crafted concept; however, Ngoc Khue is not the right choice for the songs. Hong Nhung would have a perfect singer to deliver these slow, picturesque ballads. These tunes don’t allow Ngoc Khue to push her vocals. Even Phan Cuong and Le Minh Son didn’t help release the creative beast in her.

Sadly Leucocyte is the last record of the extraordinary Esbjörn Svensson Trio. Pianist Svensson died tragically in a diving accident shortly before this innovative album released. Whether driving by Dan Berglund’s earthy bass tone and Magnus Öström’s hard-swinging drums or exploring electronic fusions, E.S.T. demonstrates the brilliant integration between the players and the fearless experiment as a group. The four-piece suite of “Leucoyte” sounds like an extension and expansion of the futuristic, spacious, atmospheric foundation Miles Davis had lain down on Bitches Brew.