Let’s face it. Kanye West is not a great rapper and can’t sing for shit, but he doesn’t let his limitations get in the way of his ego. On 808s and Heartbreak, Kanye ditched rapping and picked up crooning about the lost of his mother and the crumbled relationship with his longtime fiancé. He used Auto-Tune as a clutch for his voice and the Roland TR-808 drum machine for his beats. His musical direction is inventive, but his singing gets in the way. Although the pitch-perfecting tool created an alien-like voice to complement his dark, futuristic, rock-influenced productions, you just want to beg him stopping singing already. The entire album of Auto-Tuned crooning is just way too much. You definitely feel his pain, but he doesn’t seem to feel yours.

After getting through thirteen live recordings of Pat Metheny Trio, I could see how Metheny had the audacity to savaged Kenny G’s style as: “lame-ass, jive, pseudo bluesy, out-of-tune, noodling, wimped out, fucked up playing.” He has the virtuosity to back up his statement. With Larry Grenadler on acoustic bass and Bill Stewart on drums laying down the strong and spontaneous rhythm section, Metheny demonstrates his intricate picking techniques, improvisational skills and fearlessness in taking chances. “Question and Answer” is a beautiful 19-minute improvisation where Metheny shows off his inventive chromatic lines and elegant phrasings. “Counting Texas” displays his soulful blues picking. My personal favorite is “Faith Healer.” The heavy-metal riffs and the space-out sounding make the rock-jazz fusion so damn hypnotizing.

On their latest collaborative effort, Nhu Giac Chiem Bao, Tuan Hung and Le Quyen share a dream: to belt out on the poppy, syrupy hits. Because of their raspy, authoritative vocals, the two have done rather well on the solo tracks. Le Quyen comes off bittersweet and sultry on Luong Bang Vinh’s “Dang Cay.” Likewise, Tuan Hung sounds sentimental and tormented on Hoang Trong Thuy’s “Doan Khuc Cuoi Cho Em.” As a duo, however, they aren’t quite compatible. On Tuong Van’s “Hanh Phuc,” they both sound bored and dreary. Because their voices share similar qualities, they don’t have enough contrast to complement each other. Yet what bring the album down aren’t their vocals, but the lackluster, mechanical productions.

Even Miles Davis was envied of Herbie Hancock for the phenomenal success of Head Hunters. Davis started the fusion movement, but only a few understood his musical direction at the time. With the mega hits of “Chameleon” and “Watermelon Man,” Hancock proved not what an instrument could do for him, but what he could do with it. Over the funk-out groove, Hancock cooks up some of the most luscious solos on his electronic devices. From the funkified bassline to the jazz solos in double time, “Sly” is a damn fine tribute to Sly Stone. No wonder this breakthrough album had put Hancock on the map of avant-garde fusion.

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.