Nguyen Khang has a fabulous voice, but he needs a talented producer like Rick Rubin to get on him the right track. Asia and Van Son, two of the three notorious Vietnamese music productions, are backing him up, yet they don’t know what to do with him. Ta Muon Cung Em Say, his previous album with Asia, covered popular tunes with not much creative effort. Love, his new release under Van Son, featured new and lesser-known tunes, but they are simply monotonous.

I have to get past nine slow, sleepy cuts in order to hear something that I have wished he would focus his energy on making. It’s actually a combination of “Ai Ve Song Tuong” and “Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon” that set in a simple bluesy, swing arrangement. He didn’t even have to maneuver his voice around the jazz rhythm, but the result is still intoxicating. If he could turn some of these dead-slow tempo ballads into jazz-pop grooves, we would have something invigorating to enjoy. For instance, “Con Chut Van Vuong” would have been a great piece if it were converted into a bluesy ballad. “Tieng Tho Dai” could easily transform into a bossa-nova number and kill off the back up singer while you’re at it. No offense, but I can’t stand Nguyen Khuong’s caramel voice. His spineless whining on “Soi Toc Yeu Yeu” is still remarkably irritating.

Nguyen Khang, my brother, I have mad love for you and would hate to see you go down. If you feel burn out. Take some time off. Get away from Vietnamese music for bit. Go on tour and stop putting out albums that might harm your stature. Move forward, not back. Go further, don’t stop. You’re still blessed with that powerful, rugged and raw voice. Now work on some innovations.

Thuy Nga’s latest show, Paris By Night 91, takes viewers on yet another musical journey from Ha Noi, Hue to Sai Gon. The concept is being recycled like a plastic bottle, but if you have four hours to kill, you might enjoy the program. Most of the performances were decent; a few were memorable.

Khanh Ly’s “Bai Hat Danh Cho Nhung Xac Nguoi” was the most striking presentation of the show. Her powerful, soulful voice once again did Trinh Cong Son’s tune justice. The choreography added tremendous emotional impact to the song, particularly the moment when the female dancers in white ao dai floated off the men’s bodies. The motion was slow and lifeless. The performance left a few drops on many faces from the audience.

After the tear-jerking moment, the producers cleverly switched up the atmosphere with a skit comedy featured Chi Tai, Uyen Chi, Be Ti and Huong Thuy. Chi Tai had given one of his best routines. He cracked me the hell up, and his chemistry with Uyen Chi is right on. Be Ti, the cute shortie, was also up in her game. Her funniest word is “cat” (cut) in Hue accent.

Some of the snore-worthy performances are from Quang Dung, Tran Thai Hoa and Trinh Lam. Bang Kieu’s rendition of “Em Oi! Ha Noi Pho” was just passable. Even Thu Phuong’s version of “Huong Ve Ha Noi” was not so convincing. The arrangement didn’t do its job to support her vocals.

What makes the Puppini Sisters entertaining is their style of humor. On the sophomore release, The Rise & Fall of Ruby Woo, the sisters continue to do what they do best: covering well-known tunes with their own comical twist. Their version of Duke Ellington’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got Tha Swing)” is simply amusing. They added their distinctive touches to the swing rhythm like mimicking the “wah wah” trumpet with their vocals, altering the time, switching their scats, and throwing in some Italian Mambo. Beyonce’s biggest hit “Crazy In Love” gets a fresh new makeover from the sisters as well. The rhythm swings in double speed while the violin saws away in a country ho-down style. The only thing that missing is Jay-Z’s verse. Beside covering, their own tracks also stand out. “I Can’t Believe I’m Not a Millionaire” is a humorous blues and “Jilted” is funniest heart-broken tune you have ever heard.

A true jazz genius is not how he can play by himself, but how he can play with others. Although Oscar Peterson had the capability to play intimate solo, he could also accompany other musicians. Some of his memorable collaborators included vocalist Louis Armstrong, saxophonist Ben Webster, violinist French Stephane Grapelli and Israeli-American violinist Itzhak Perlman. Check out Peterson and Perlman’s rendition of “Dark Eyes.” Spottieottiedopaliscious!

With his fourteenth release, Co Mot Vai Dieu Anh Muon Noi Voi Em, Phu Quang proves once again to be a lyrical songwriter, capable of penning heartfelt ballads and applying Vietnamese words to European classical tunes in such an effortless grace. “Romance No. 2” would sound like a Vietnamese song if the listeners aren’t familiar with Beethoven’s tunes. He knows how to make the words flow with the classical melody and he knows how to add some pop flavor into the old song by featuring Hang Nga whose vocals is both sweet and sentimental. Quang Ly and My Hanh are among the contributors on the album. My Hanh’s rendition of “Giot Mua Buon” has a reminiscent of Thanh Lam minus the screaming dramas. What make Phu Quang’s music irresistible are the simple, emotional messages that bring you not just closer to him but to yourself.

The ladyboy had a spark when she first started, but now she’s just garbage. Cindy Thai Tai’s second release, Hoi Ve Voi Em, replaces the bittersweet pop-jazz flavor with tasteless remixes.

Can’t blame her though. Songbird Cindy is no longer a lonesome soul. She is now a “Woman In Love” and she’ll do anything to get you into her world. From “Bay Ngay Doi Mong” to “Hay Ve Voi Em” to “Nu Hon Ngot Ngao” to “Gap Nhau Lam Ngo,” the ladyboy is now in love. She even declares love on “I Feel Love,” a track has nothing but an up-tempo beat with the title repeats throughout.

It’s too bad because her vocals showed tremendous improvement—wider range and fluid flow—yet she flushes herself down the toilet trying to please the club heads.

Now that the roaring thunder of “Bonjour Vietnam” has subsided, Pham Quynh Anh releases the official version in English accompanied by a video. Although the studio track is much more polished, the emotional impact comes nowhere near the raw demo. From the beat to the vocals to the lyrics, the newer version doesn’t strike a chord the way that the previous version did.

If I were to hear the English version first, I wouldn’t have been as motivated to create the slideshow. Gone are the simple, melancholic strumming guitar, yearning vocal delivery and exquisite French lyrics that made “Bonjour Vietnam” such mesmerizing nostalgia. While the new production adds more sugar to the song, Quynh Anh’s phrasing sounds more restraint and less passionate in English than French. The quality of her voice remains unchanged, but the soul-searching desire to connect to her root has diminished. Furthermore, the English words don’t sound as lyrical. For instance, “One day, I’ll touch your soul / One day, I’ll finally know your soul,” can’t do the justice for: “Un jour, j’irai là bas / Un jour dire bonjour à ton âme.”

The differences between “Hello” and “Bonjour” proved that sometimes an unfinished, unpolished and unedited work should remain untouched. Miles Davis paid his musicians not to practice and he wanted every recording to make it on the first cut for one reason: the feeling.

Cau Chuyen Tinh Toi can’t be a Thu Phuong record. Not the Thu Phuong whose jazz-inflected concert in Toronto last October still mesmerizes me. How could someone who was so passionate in her performance even with just a small group of audience put out such a tedious album? What a waste of talent.

The album-closer, “Comme Toi,” is the only real Thu Phuong cut. The Bollywood-remixed beat is invigorating and this is the only time that she seems a bit exciting. With the rest, even on the belt-out “Co Nho Dem Nay,” she sounds tired, worn out and passionless as if she was obliged to record them. Worse are the medleys. When she sings, “Yeu anh vi ta chan doi” in Le Huu Ha’s “Yeu Em,” you can actually hear the lifelessness in her delivery. In Nguyen Vu’s “Loi Cuoi Cho Em,” she just screams on the hook as if she is bored out her fucking mind.

If these tracks do represent the love stories of her life, she must have had some extremely dull relationships. With the weightless arrangement accompanied by a murmuring electric guitar on Pham Huu Tam’s “Mong Phu Du,” she comes close to what the song is about: drifting off to sleep. She needs some excitements to spice up her tales.

I used to have a thang for Lam Thuy Van: the big sexy babe with the big sultry voice. Although she covers mostly slow, bittersweet pop tunes and rarely departs from her comfort zone, she knows how to capture the listener’s heart with her high pitch, gorgeous tone, and most importantly, ability to bare all. I am referring to soul not skin. Thank you!

Her latest Dau Yeu Ngay Nao once again contemplates on love, life and tons of heartaches. “Anh da di roi, em van con day / Co don trong can gac doa day,” Lam Thuy Van starts off “Diep Khuc Buon” in deep sorrow. She wastes no time getting to the poignant core with her soulful crooning. By the time she reaches the bridge, you’re already in despair with her. On “Lien Khuc Tinh Phu,” her voice is mournful, melting the lyrics around the melody while the subtle orchestration provides a melancholy backdrop. The medley sound like an ode to Ngoc Lan who was both of our heroine.

By now the natural combination between Don Ho and Lam Thuy Van shouldn’t even be a question. Their voice is a perfect complement to each other. The mesmerizing moment on “Mal De Toi” is when Lam Thuy Van flights on a swelling crescendo against Don Ho’s warm, low tone like a switching effect from the lowest keys on left to the highest keys on right of the keyboard. Their duet on “Toi Khong Con Yeu Em” and “Ngay Tinh Yeu Den” are both exceptional.

Although Lam Thuy Van doesn’t step up her style, she does refine her technical skill. From breath control to melodic phrasing to lyrical interpretation, she sings like she means it even without the confirmation on the outro.

Inspired by shopping music in Manhattan, my man Don Ho, in collaboration with Lam Thuy Van and Thanh Ha, released Hen Ho, covers of old ballads dressed in new, computer-generated sounds. Is this another one of those electronica shits? Upon several spins, the album is absorbable.

What makes Hen Ho worked is the minimal approach to the arrangements. Unlike Ha Tran’s Communication ’06, in which she had to fight against the beats, the electric grooves are kept to the minimum so they don’t overpower the vocals. The title track, Pham Duy’s “Hen Ho,” is a juicy duet between Don Ho and Thanh Ha. While their sensual vocals weaved together to take you on a trip of nostalgia, the music pulls you to a space-out territory. Mr. Don Ho sure has his way with the ladies. Not only with Thanh Ha’s, but his slightly raspy voice is also a perfect foil to Lam Thuy Van’s high and soulful quality. Their rendition of Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Nua Hon Thuong Dau” is both fresh and doleful. Unfortunately when three get on the same track, the hypnotic spell breaks. Their Vietnamese interpretation of “Killing Me Softly With His Song” should not have made it on the album.

The clean, subtle production works, but not on every track. Don Ho’s solo tracks in particular are way too slow. From Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Nguoi Di Qua Doi Toi” to Ngo Thuy Mien’s “Tu Giong Hat Em” to Thong Dai’s “Ai Ve Song Tuong,” the snore-worthy flossing in his delivery is perfect for lulling listeners into submission. Normally I would prefer Don Ho’s solo album, but the ladies have saved his ass this time.