Cu Dao was having a hard time falling asleep last night. I wrapped him up and played him his favorite CD, but he tried to roll over as soon as I placed him in his crib. I stood beside his bed in the dark observing him trying to free himself. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Duke started to cry. I stood there heartlessly letting him sobbed until he screamed. I picked him up and he squirmed on my arms until his face touched my chest. I placed my lips on his head and just held on to the kiss. He stopped moving and began to close his eyes. I rested my cheek against his forehead and felt the heat coming off him. The moment was so peaceful and precious that I didn’t put him back into his crib even after he was already deep asleep. I stood quietly, watched and listened to every breath he took for almost an hour.

With droopy vocals backing up by drowsy arrangements, Tuan Hung’s Nhac Xua seems primarily to put people to sleep. Play this album on a hot, lazy afternoon and you’ll be snoring before the first track is over. The mixture of the synth and the smooth sax on the jazzy rendition of “Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon,” is soothing enough for a massage parlor. On “Co Ua” and “Niem Khuc Cuoi,” Tuan Hung murmurs his way through the tunes so he could go to bed as well.

Steve Kuhn gigged briefly with John Coltrane, but the leader’s profound influence never left him. On this respectful, tasteful tribute to the jazz legend, Steve Kuhn Trio and Joe Lovano bring their own chops to Coltrane’s compositions. Lovano gives a reserved yet gorgeous solo on “Song of Praise” and the rhythm section gives the tune a cool, relaxed swinging vibe. On “Spiritual,” Lovano plays the tárogató, a Hungarian instrument, for a softer, yet warmer sound than a tenor while the trio swings gently behind him. Covering Coltrane is not an easy task, yet Steve Kuhn and his men had done the justice to Mostly Coltrane.

The first Monday back to work was way too damn hard after spending two and a half weeks with Cu Dao. I miss the father and son daily routines. I miss jogging with him in the beautiful morning weather. I miss feeding him even though it was tough. If he finished the whole bottle, I felt like I have accomplished something. I miss making him laughed out loud. I miss taking him to visit his mom at work so we can get lunch and he could get his milk straight from the source. I miss napping next to him listening to Lullaby: A Collection. This album works every time putting Cu Dao to sleep. All I have to do is wrapped him up and turned on the CD. I wish I could have done more with him, but I am glad we had a bit of quality time together.

Without a Song captures some of the finest live performances from trumpet virtuoso Freddie Hubbard backed up by his impeccable rhythm section: Roland Hanna (piano), Ron Carter (bass) and Louis Hayes (drums). While title track displays Hubbard’s quicksilver solo over the band’s hard-swing tempo, “Body and Soul” shows off their lyrical balladry. “Space Track” and “Hub Tones” are among the unreleased gems.

Kristin Bair O’Keeffe’s debut novel, Thirsty, is the story a woman who lived through an abusive relationship. The book is set in a mythological town somewhere in Pittsburg around the booming of the steel-making industry in 1880s. Although Thirsty is very dark, there were moments of lightness and hope.

To provide the companion web site the dramatic look and feel, a striking steel mill artwork by Craig McPherson as a backdrop. To balance out the dark tone, the title of the book is set in white, large typeface. The blue butterfly was also added to give a sense of hope. In contrast of the homepage, which is completely dark to convey the mysterious tone, the secondary pages turned white for readability.

Thirsty is an exciting project for me simply because I haven’t done a site like this before. The best part of the work is hitting the target on the first attempt. My first draft is usually my best work. This project has definitely brought the creative juice out of me and I am looking forward to doing another book site.

Trieu Hoang’s seventh release, Xuc Cam, takes damn near three years to complete, yet the quality pays off. The lyrical contents are forgettable, but the flows and the productions are memorable. Right off the opening track, “Buong Xui,” producer/songwriter Nguyen Hong Hai crafted a wicked beat (rock-pop with a club flavor) to go with Trieu Hoang’s throaty voice. The result is stunning. The title track gets even better with just Trieu Hoang pouring is heart out on nothing else but the solo piano. Unfortunately Trieu Hoang’s own tunes bring down the album. “Hen Uoc” is straight Chinese-melody jacked and “Yeu” is just ill-rhymed. Even a top-notch production can’t save lyrics like this: “Moi dem anh ngu anh mo / Chi thay em ma thoi (Every night I sleep I dream / I only see you).”

An impressionistic work of art, Unit Structures is chaotic, energetic, yet tightly controlled. From the opening “Steps,” jazz avant-garde Cecil Taylor leads his septet into the world of abstraction. His percussive piano bursts like fireworks on 4th of July allowing the reed section to roar with ferocity. Like many of Taylor’s albums, Unit Structures is not so pleasing on the first spin. Time, patience and opening ears are required to appreciate the masterpieces.

“It’s music, and I like it,” Miles Davis responded when being asked if his 1959 release, Sketches of Spain, was really jazz. 50 years later, the provocative collaboration between Miles Davis and Gil Evans on the Latin flavors still sounds as fresh as it was first recorded. What makes this album so damn delicious is the way Gil Evans’ sensual, textual arrangements hugged like clouds around Davis’ fragile, pointed trumpet. The legacy edition includes extraordinary materials, such as alternates and live version of “Concierto de Aranjuaz.”

Haven’t heard My Tam’s “Hát Với Dòng Sông” for quite a while. It’s still quite catchy as hell. Not sure why many people were tripping off on the hook: “Tình yêu đến em không mong đợi gì, tình yêu đi em không hề hối tiếc.” I personally love the line. It’s a lyrical way of saying “I really don’t give a fuck.”