Guitarist Pat Metheny naturally do not share a mutual respect with Kenny G when he castigates G’s overdubbing of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” as “lame-ass, jive, pseudo bluesy, out-of-tune, noodling, wimped out, fucked up…,” but he does share his vision with pianist Brad Mehldau whose lyrical approach reminds me of Bill Evans on their invigorating collaboration. Backing up by Mehldau’s bulletproof rhythm section, bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jeff Ballard, Metheny’s hypnotic riffs in unison with Mehldau’s melodic lines produced some of the most delightful grooves in contemporary jazz. From airy atmosphere to serene chaos to exquisite sound of water, the varying in tempos brings unique colors, textures and moods to the overall experience.

When being asked about Vietnamese jazz, Tran Thu Ha said, “Nhạc jazz VN tới nay thường là ‘râu ông nọ cắm cằm bà kia’ hoặc đu đưa cho có vẻ jazz một tí. Hiện tại, chỉ có Jazzy Dạ Lam theo đúng kiểu” (Phụ Nữ Chủ Nhật).

Jazzy’s Moon & You is a mixture of pop, jazz and funk. I like its uniqueness, but that’s not necessarily the “right” approach to jazz. It’s more like Norah Jones’ pop, jazz and old country buffet that attracts the bourgeois but not the aficionados. To dismiss Vietnamese jazz as “râu ông nọ cắm cằm bà kia” is not entirely accurate. Maybe some of Tran Thu Ha’s own jazz-up songs were, but there are still some decent tunes like Le Minh Son’s “Trang Khat” performed by Tung Duong. That’s some deep shades of blues right there. The voice is raspy and soulful, and the instrumental improvisations are damn hypnotic. While we’re at it, let’s not forget that he blew her out like candle not once but twice with his bossa-nova rendition of “Chay Tron.”

In addition, I see nothing wrong with taking the basic chords of Vietnamese ballads and extending them into jazz improvisations. In fact, Trinh Cong Son compositions are perfect because they are simple, which give musicians plenty of space to work around the minimal structure. For examples, Art Pepper and his sidemen took “Besame Mucho” (the last track in TTBlue’s collection) and pushed it to twenty minutes plus of exhilarating solos, or completely reinvented “História De Un Amor” (A Love Story) with his own personal interpretation.

Even though jazz is sophisticated, you shouldn’t be discouraged from it. You don’t have be at the level of Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Coleman Hawkins, Charles Mingus, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Dave Brubeck, Bill Evans, or Art Pepper. Playing and singing with your own heart and feeling is all that needed. There is no right or wrong way to approach jazz. The question should be how you approach jazz.

TTBlues once again got me hook on an avant-garde jazzcat who shares our birthplace. What makes Cuong Vu stands out to me is his wicked and wild emotionalism emerged from his trumpet. On “Pitter-Patter,” Vu’s quiet-but-chaotic growl navigates itself into the groove laid down the funk rhythm section. When he reaches the top register, Vu’s extended phrases create a serene ecstasy. Again and again and again, all I can is that the motherfucker can blow.

Mong Thuy who is previously unknown to me has a hell of a high pitch. The superb soprano—minus Thai Thanh’s girlish annoyances—from her voice puts Bang Kieu to shame. She brings the dramas alright, but not to the point where she’s about to jump off the Brooklyn bridge. Proof? In her Pham Duy songbook, Tram Nam Ben Cu, she performs every song with full emotional power and she’s capable of swooping up high notes in effortless control.

What impresses me the most is that she has cut an album I’ve been dying to hear. In every recording, the only instrument backing her up is a piano, something I encouraged a singer to do, but he thought it would be too boring for an entire album. Well, Mong Thuy has proved him wrong. With a prodigious pianist behind her, she paints Pham Duy’s compositions with vivid lyricisms, luminous textures, and elusive harmonies. From the clarity of execution in the accompaniment to the clarity of feeling in the voice, pure aesthetic is what being accomplished in this tight and personal setting. Furthermore, the nuanced touch from the keyboard and the light touch from her phrasing make the album perfect for rainy-day introspection.

If you’re like me, sick and tired of the current popular Vietnamese music from big productions like Thuy Nga, Asia, and Van Son whose main interest are nothing but mucho dinero, Mong Thuy’s album offers a much greater alternative. Often times I wonder to myself, am I being anal to Vietnamese singers and productions? After listening to recent releases, I thought these producers are either deaf or they just simply don’t give a fuck, but album like this has reassured me that I am not being too damn demanding.

Download: “Duong Chieu La Rung“

Erroll Garner is one of my personal favorite jazz pianists for his astounding orchestral concept. Listen to his interpretation of “Don’t Be That Way” and you will figure out why. By applying the full range of the keyboard, he was capable of creating a big-band effect. With the “kicking” beat on the left hand and “strumming” chords on his right, Garner’s stride technique not only reinvents the popular tune, but also making it his own.

Anyone who loves Peanuts cartoons should be familiar with Vince Guaraldi’s music. He’s the main man behind the wonderful scores. I’ve been jamming to A Boy Named Charlie Brown Soundtrack again and again. How can you not hook on something as magnetizing as “Linus and Lucy?” It must be that West Coast Jazz flavor, in which Guaraldi has both hip and melodic tone in his keyboard style. Love those crisp drum brushes from Colin Bailey and engaging bass walks from Monty Budwig as well. The trio has done an exceptional job of pleasing both children and parents without compromising their artistic vision.

“Even the rap game started out critiquing / Now it’s all about killing and freaking,” Wynton Marsalis rhymes in a preaching style over the closing “Where Y’all At?” off his new album From the Plantation to the Penitentiary. Wynton Marsalis is furious as fuck, especially with hip-hop misogynists. He even granted a space on “Love and Broken Hearts” for a young female vocalist, Jennifer Sanon, to front rappers that she ain’t their bitch or their hoe. In addition to attacking rap music, Marsalis is politicking as usual on “Supercapitalism.” Clearly, he is more interested in getting out the message than making innovative music, which is expectable coming from a moldy fig.

I would write a review on Tuyet Loan if I could understand half of the shit she sings on Jazz Lady. Actually, her English singing isn’t so bad for someone living in Viet Nam. Her enunciation issue turns up in some songs (particularly “Stardust”) more than other. Still, she could have turned it into her advantage if she could do it right. Pay more attention to the melody than the lyrics, in a way that the words become completely undistinguishable. The result could be some idiosyncratic scatting, who knows.

I have always been a huge fan of Don Ho. In addition to his music, I respect his down-to-earth attitude and generous personality; therefore, I give him my unconditional support. I purchase most of his CDs without even checking the track list, and his new release, Mai Di Tim: Love 2, is no exception. I must confess, however, it is the worst album he has ever made.

Don Ho murders his own classics. “Trai Tim Mua Dong” (Truc Ho) and “Tinh Nhat Phai” (a Chinese ballad translated by Nhat Ngan) are two of his most recognizable hits; therefore, he doesn’t need to remind us with the remixed versions. Much as I like what Dong Son had done in the past with his new upbeat productions, he brings nothing exciting to “Trai Tim Mua Dong.” I like the tune slow and intimate just like the way Truc Ho has intended it. If “Tinh Nhat Phai” has yet to fade, the clubbing remake, which featured Giana Nguyen’s sweet-n-sour voice and Justin Timberfake’s wimpy rap, makes it vanish immediately.

But I have to give Don Ho the kudos for trying to do the impossible. Who else would think of giving Trinh Lam Ngan’s “Qua Con Me” a dance-up treatment? The only accomplishment he might have achieved is dismantling its “sen” quality by replacing the robotic bolero with the mid-tempo beat. Yet, the most impossible thing he pulls off is throwing a bonus to one of Vietnamese proudest occupations in America. Dino Pham Hoang Dung’s “Nail” has to be the goofiest shit I have heard in a long time. I just love the chorus:

Nail, nail, nail, ban tay ta phai kheo
Nail, nail, nail, nghe Nail dau co beo
Nail, nail, nail, tien vo day ngan keo
Nail, nail, nail, chac chan se khong ngheo!
Bac si, ky su cung khong bang Nail
Hoc phi ton kem ra truong lai lau
Chi vai tram gio bang Nail ta co
Mai mai, dua dua cu the tien vo!

With the happy-go-lucky beat, elementary rhymes and Don Ho’s childlike hiss and shout, I am having a hard time distinguishing if this is a dissed or dedicated song. I am not even sure why the author has to clarify that “nghe Nail dau co beo.” A job is a job, and if doing nail pays the bills, get your papers on, baby. I am just hoping that kids won’t use this song to make a statement to their parents why they rather file hands and polish feet than write prescriptions or draw blueprints.

Like I said from the beginning, Don Ho is my man, but that doesn’t mean I would shy away from criticizing his work. It could be that I am losing interests in his musical direction with this album. Or it could be that he’s not interested in reaching out to me. I am getting old and he’s still young at heart.

Like other Sinatra impersonators, Tony DeSare has a very charming voice, a bit too charming to jazz. Unlike Franky, Tony lacks that playboy style. His gentleness doesn’t quite sit well with Nat King Cole’s “Gee Baby, Ain’t I Good to You?” He doesn’t have that player charisma in his delivery. If you listen to Louis Armstrong rendition, you know Pops got that pimp juice in him. (Fur coat, diamond ring, and a Cadillac, I got you that shit, ain’t I good to ya?) As a result, DeSare’s latest album, Last First Kiss, feels like a romantic but unenergetic and unenthusiastic experience. After the short-lived swing (thanks to the instrumentation) on “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home to,” the album drifted into that cocktail vibe, so go ahead and break out your wine and cheese again on this one.