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.

Although Thu Minh’s new album is titled in English, seven of the ten tracks are Vietnamese. Not sure what she tries to prove, but her Vietnamese English doesn’t do the justice. She should have left the last three English tracks off the record.

I Do would have been a perfect ballad album because Thu Minh is a fantastic ballad singer. With her clear voice and big tone, she could make a popular tune her own. With the help of Duc Tuan, she gives Vo Thien Thanh’s “Uoc Gi” a powerful cover and her rendition is as good as if not superior than My Tam’s. Likewise, her version of Huy Tuan’s “Nhung Giac Mo Dai” is so gorgeously romantic.

On Van Phong’s “Giac Mo Mang Ten Minh, ” her voice is constraint to accommodate the jazzy groove, but she sounds best when she could move beyond control. The result is just stunning when she turns up her pitch a bit too high for comfort on the chorus of Nathan Lee and Chu Minh Ky’s “Pho Vang Anh.” I have to cover my ears whenever Bang Kieu pulls out a stunt like that, but not in her case. Her high pitch and shrill seem to work well on big, belt-out ballads.

Not that I ever liked any of the Vietnamese video productions’ cover arts, but Asia’s latest Bon Mua 2: Mot Thoi De Nho has to be one of the worse designs yet. The front of the box cramped with so much crap that it had no room to breathe. The people were collaged together like a group orgies. What happened to simplicity? The use of gradients on fat, calligraphic-like typeface was horrendous. One of these days, I would love to see a clean and simple design without any singers’ face on the front. The back should be where all the singers are listed. The listing all the performances as well as credits to producers and songwriters on the back was the right direction, but the faded background got in the way of the text and the use of colors ruined the feel of the seasons.

Now that I get the design irk out of my system, let’s get straight to the program. Bon Mua 2 was obviously themed around four seasons. One of the most memorable performances was Paolo whose voice was charming and powerful. He delivered “Delilah” with confidence and bravado. His acting was a little strange, but it showed his passion. With Vu Tuan Duc’s swing arrangement, Nguyen Khang gave Tu Cong Phung’s “Bay Gio Thang May” a nice touch of jazz. His timing was just right for the up tempo. Vu Tuan Duc also had done a great job of keeping the orchestration simple on Bich Van’s gorgeous cover of “Mua Xuan Dau Tien” and Ho Hoang Yen’s intoxicating rendition of “Chieu Tim.” These two were the best combo (Asia’s overused concept) of the show because of the contrast in their vocals. Bich Van’s voice was high and smooth; Ho Hoang Yen’s voice was smoky and a bit rough. The bossa-nova bassline accompanied Ho Hoang Yen’s vocals was captivating.

On the flip side, Thai Doanh Doanh gave an awful cover of “Without You,” yet Cardin was even worst trying to dance to Truc Ho’s “Va Hom Nay.” He couldn’t even stand still to deliver a slow song. Why he felt the need to dance like a robot was beyond me. Trish tried to cover Ngoc Lan’s French tunes. The good part was that she reminded me nothing of Ngoc Lan. Trish should focus on perfecting her Vietnamese before moving on to a third language. Yet, the most ridiculous act had to be handed to Doan Phi. This kid shook his behind more than Anh Minh in the lambada routine. If you’re going to grind on a hot chick like Anh Minh, do it with authority and power and not like a little bitch. Speaking of hot, Diem Lien was sexy, but not in a harmful way. She was neither busty like Y Phuong nor skimpy like Thien Kim. Her petite figure and cute smile added a nice touch to her ripe, savory beauty.

For once, viewers could enjoy the show without the political propaganda shoved down their throats, not even from Viet Dung and Nam Loc. The video’s main focus was music and that is the way it should be.

Duc Tuan has been busy this year. In July, he released a Van Cao album, Tieng Hat Truong Chi, and now, just three months apart, he’s dropping a second Pham Duy’s songbook, Kiep Nao Co Yeu Nhau, with the collaboration of producer Viet Anh.

The good thing about this record is that Duc Tuan has straightened up his phrasings. By reducing his rounded enunciation, he sounds less feminine (“dieu”). The not-so-good thing is that he couldn’t delivery some of Pham Duy’s well-know ballads, like “Roi Day Anh Se Dua Em Ve Nha,” “Cay Dang Bo Quen” and “Con Duong Tinh Ta Di,” to their fullest potential, and Viet Anh’s uneven arrangements—simple and crisp but lack in depth and texture—didn’t help either. The title track, “Kiep Nao Co Yeu Nhau,” is where the production is matched up with the vocals. When Duc Tuan soars, the orchestration picks up to provide him the backing up he needs to fuel his fire. “Co Hong” has a flavorful, bluesy touch; however, Mai Khoi ruins it with her moaning on the break. Most Vietnamese singers seem not to be able to distinguish the different between groaning and scatting.

While the concept approach—sticking with one producer and one songwriter—is still good for a more focused listening experience, the record doesn’t offer anything Duc Tuan hasn’t done before. He needs to steps up his game or else his success may slip.

Maybe a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon was not the right time for an intimate listening experience. Ngo Thuy Mien and Thanh Trang’s Tinh Khuc Mua Thu—a fundraising concert for veterans living in Viet Nam— took place in VNCC’s auditorium at two o’clock was not a great success. I was hoping for a big rain to boost up the atmosphere, but the sky was bright and clear.

Besides the timing, the sleepy arrangements and the poor sound quality didn’t help either. Quang Tuan didn’t impress me much. His rendition of Thanh Trang’s “Huyen” was simply long and he didn’t have the stage performance. During the break (keyboard solo), he simply stood there looking at the audience and just waiting to sing again. Although Thien Kim could turn her back to the audience during the break to reveal her naked back, she was even more disappointed. She had to sing with the music sheet even on a well-known ballad like Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Ban Tinh Cuoi,” in which her short vocals took the bridge to nowhere. Diem Liem was the only one that could weather the quiet storm. Despite the snoozing accompaniment, she poured her heart out on “Tra Lai Cho Em,” a new tune from Ngo Thuy Mien that will guarantee to be a big hit. She also soared like a songbird in the afternoon on “Tu Giong Hat Em.”

After intermission, a PowerPoint-like video clip of the handicap veterans who are being ignored by the Vietnamese government was shown on a big screen to encourage donations. The best part of the show was the interview with Ngo Thuy Mien and Thanh Trang conducted by Duong Nguyet Anh, but it was rushed through because of time. Thanh Trang was quite hilarious in his answers even though he only had time for two questions.