M.I.A. is back in full effects: Big beats and bold rhymes with shots of bullets and politics. Underneath the international flavors, including Bollywood discotheque (“Jimmy”) and Jamacian dancehall (“Paper Planes”), Kala reveals some of M.I.A.’s dark lyricisms: “People judge me so hard / Cause I don’t floss my titty set / I was born out of dirt like I am porn in a skirt.” From war zones to street corners, no matter where she takes us to, she makes sure we can dance along not only to the music but also to the sound of gun pops.
Holy Smoke
The Music Man
New York Times profiles music guru Rick Rubin:
Columbia didn’t want Rubin to punch a clock. It wanted him to save the company. And just maybe the record business.
The Chapel
The feedbacks regarding to Vassar’s new design have been positive. This week we’re showing off the gorgeous Chapel. I loved the shot when I was comping up the design and knew it will make it to the layout.
Paris By Night 89: In Korea
With the rate Thuy Nga’s releasing, Paris By Night videos aren’t going away anytime soon despite how repetitive they get. So writing detailed review of each show is pointless. What I’ll do is I’ll treat each release like an upgrade of a software by highlighting what featured had been added or deprecated.
So what’s new in Paris By Night 89? It was filmed in Korea. Y Lan turned Pham Dinh Chuong’s “Nua Hon Thuong Dau” to “Mot Nua Hon Thuong Dau.” From her over-sentimental delivery to her over-dramatic presentation, she had tripled the tune’s spirit. Listening to Tran Thu Ha sings “Ao Anh” while watching the models walk the floor is brilliant. Whoever came up with that concept, I owe you a beer.
What should be deprecated? Ky Duyen’s same old jokes poking at Nguyen Ngoc Ngan has to go. After more than ten years of mocking his height, age and appearance, I think we got it: he’s short, old and ugly. Come up with some new shtick, will you?
After all the glamors on stage, we’re presented with the cruel reality: the suffering of our brothers and sisters in Korea via Van Son-style documentary. Witnessing workers with fingers chopped off and wives with battered bruises is heartrending. Like machines, Korean men must have no feelings.
Quang Dung & Hong Nhung – Vi Ta Can Nhau
Love could make you happy or busy depending on the stage you’re in. Because Quang Dung and Hong Nhung are falling in love (not with each other), they sing to celebrate their happiness. Because Duc Tri fell out of love, he makes music to keep himself busy.
Ho Ngoc Ha had done us a huge favor. After she dropped his ass as well as his label, Duc Tri had produced some of the finest albums this year including Duc Tuan’s Tinh Ca Pham Duy and Pham Anh Khoa’s debut. He had mastered semi-classic, flirted with rock, and now he returns to romantic ballads with Vi Ta Can Nhau for the newly-wedded duet.
They are compatible should not be a surprise. In the world of pop, Quang Dung is the prince; Hong Nhung is the diva. The surprise is how laid back they are in their collaboration. The special bond has to be there in order for them to cut nine duet tracks with such consistency. From the opening “Giac Mo Xa Voi” (Duc Tri) to the closing “Nhu Mot Loi Chia Tay” (Trinh Cong Son), they share the joy, the passion and the mutual respect for the man whose music had given them their stardom.
As a result, Vi Ta Can Nhau is not memorable for how great they sound together, but for how great their musical friendship is. And they had made their point not loud but clear.
Nguyen Thang – My Story
With lame-out rap, noon-napping jazz and Chinese-inflected ballad, Nguyen Thang’s My Story should be flopped, but it turns out to be ridiculously addictive. He has an ear for catchy beats and a taste for pop hooks. Most important of all, he knows when to let others do the telling even though the story is his.
The jump-off “Apologize,” ironically featured Thaifoon (should have been the other way around since Nguyen Thang only sings the hook), is about a mundane relationship drama being told through Thaifoon’s robotic flow and elementary rhymes, but the groovy beat and Nguyen Thang’s supporting vocals bring life to the tune. Like his peers, Nguyen Thang is flirting with hip-hop and R&B. Thankfully he doesn’t try to rap. Not that the rap cats on “If Only You Knew” are any good, but they sound so damn aggressive like some gangster shit. It turns out that they were mad at some girl who broke their heart. What kind of a rapper that bitch about that type of shit? As moronic as it sound, the song works. It’s pop music. What do you expect?
Although Nguyen Thang tends to be more westernized, he could move comfortably from English to Vietnamese—something not too many young Vietnamese-American pop stars could accomplish. They either suck at English or Vietnamese, but mostly the latter. His remake of “Xin Cho Mai Yeu,” “Tinh Dau Mai Yeu” (duet with Huy Vu) and “Bien Can” are refreshing despite how many times these two tunes have been covered. The productions play a major role in them, especially when the rap verse in “Xin Mai Cho Em” kicks in and accompanied by the gorgeous saxophone.
Though his flow is too stiff on the smooth-jazz “Autumn Leaves,” at least he’s giving it a try, and the unexpected sax solo on the swing-up break is a nice touch. Overall, My Story is how a pop album should be, except he should have left the fill-in-the-gap chicks with annoying vocals off the album.
Some Dope Jams
Freeway’s “Big Spender” with Jay-Z and Jermaine Dupri
Kanye West’s “Good Life” with T-Pain
Lupe Fiasco’s “Dumb It Down“
Lil Wayne aka…
The “Pussy Monster” who makes the ladies scream.
Bird Lives!
NPR profiles the father of bebop Charlie Parker:
It’s safe to say that without Charlie Parker, the music we now call bebop might never have existed. While other musicians in New York — Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, and Bud Powell among them — were creating the musical building blocks that would later become part of bebop, it was Parker’s innovative phrasing on alto saxophone that provided the glue that brought it all together as a new jazz revolution.
Check out part 1 of the prgram.