Tomorrow is the day. Get ready to do your thang, pro. Hat off to those who have done their part. Your support is appreciated.

Superstar Jay & Big T presents First Name Esco (Show Some Respect), an hour plus of raw and badly cuts from the street-disciple, street-poetic, and street-knowledger Nas Escobar.

Enjoy Friday listening, y’all!

Kamasutra AIDS (simple design, clear message)

Pronto Condoms: The quickest way to get it on (easy-to-access design)

CapriR’s “Chuyen Dai Dong” and “Chuyen Dai Dong Tiep Theo” (an entertaining story written in Vietnamese regarding to marrying a young chick in Viet Nam. If you need second opinion on a girl you’re about to marry and bring over, consult sista CapriR for her advice.)

Most of the time album’s intros are pathetic, but Common’s “Be,” the opening track to his fine album with the same name, is not one of them. The chord-progression joint kicks off with a dope-ass pizzicato bass; the electronic keyboard licks in; the big beat drops; Common’s raucous voice joins in: “I want to be as free as the spirits of those who left / I’m talking Malcom, Coltrane, my man Yusef.” Mad props to Kenya West for his blazing production. They should have created the full song out of it.

Lieu is the debut of another mediocre pop/hip-hop kid on the scene, Lieu Anh Tuan. The only track worth mentioning is “Mo Coi,” a swing tune for orphan kids. If he focuses more on jazz instead of “fashionable” trend, we might have something to listen to.

What a splendid solo piano version of “Scarborough Fair” (courtesy of Marian McPartland’s Piano Jazz) from Billy Childs. He uses the basic structure, but takes the piece into a new direction with his own marvelous improvisation. I would love to see similar interpretation being done to Vietnamese standards.

Maybe it was too plain. Made some minor adjustments to the layout, pushing for three columns, shifting to left alignment, and expanding for 1024×768 screens.

While scanning through Da Capo Best Music Writing 2006,
Elizabeth Mendez Berry’s “Love Hurts” (PDF format) caught my attention with her clever introduction: “Before going to sleep, many little girls pray for a new Barbie, an Xbox game, or a trip to Disney World. At age 7, Vanessa Rios asked only that “Papi would stop hitting Mami.”

Papi is no other than the late rapper Big Pun who whipped the shit out of his wife with a lead pipe just because she forgot to change his beeper’s battery. I never had much respect for Pun as a rapper, and now I have none for the dead man. Berry then chronicles various domestic violence against women among rappers including Biggie, Dre and Busta. Like I said, I enjoy rap’s vivid lyrics, but that’s just on-the-mic bullshitting, and didn’t expect these misogynists actually stayed true to their words in real life. As much respect as I have for Biggie as a lyricist, I despise his cruelty toward women. He used to say, “More money, more problems.” More money comes more power. And more power, more bitches to slap. His murder case still remains unsolved, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was gunned down by a woman.

I am hooked on Art Pepper’s hypnotic rendition of “Tin Tin Deo,” thanks to the addictive rhythm section of Miles Davis’s sidemen: Red Garland (piano), Paul Chambers (bass) and Philly Joe Jones (drums). Pepper’s sweet and sensual alto soars like a bird with wounded soul over the magnetizing Latin groove. Just like what my man Rakim said every time I rock this tune, “I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine, but I don’t need a cigarette, know what I mean?”

Dieu Huong’s sweet and sentimental “Xin Mai Con Ben Me” struck my guilty chord. She reminds me that I have taken my mother’s presence for granted. Being with her everyday is a blessing, yet I sometimes forget to acknowledge it. Before heading out the door into the real world this morning, I kissed my mama on her cheek and said, “I love you, mom.” And all I got from her response was, “OK.” I sighed, “Just ok?” She smiled and went on, “If you don’t know it by now, what more can I say?” I gave her a joyful look as I was thinking to myself, “Thanks mom for the unconditional love and a wonderful blog post.”