A mesmerizing soundtrack from The White Silk Dress (Ao Lua Ha Dong).

Hy Zaret who’s responsible for the lyrics of the infamous “Unchained Melody” died on July 3 at 99.

Who would have expected that Ha Tran, an artist with attitude and passion, winds up being a moneymaking shtick for Thuy Nga Production? Her new album, Tinh Ca Qua The Ky, is a typical, Thuy Nga-stamped mediocre: old songs dressed up in new lifeless arrangements. It takes eleven cuts into the album to finds something she would record on her own.

With her lovely voice and versatile range, she only needs a simple guitar-picking to refresh a ballad, which I was hoping for in the cover of “Dung Xa Em Dem Nay.” Instead the flashy, poppy production takes the human spirit right out of Duc Huy’s signature piece. The arrangement gets sloppier on the translated “Nhung Con Duong Tinh Yeu.” The shrieking trumpet creeps up out of nowhere. “Bésame Mucho” sneaks up on the break. Her wordless singing sounds as if she’s exorcising the demons. (“This house is clear.”)

It is understandable that Tinh Ca Qua The Ky brings her back to earth after having gone way too far into space with Communication ’06, but why a century? She must be really confused.

Yes, I only had half of a juicy burger last night. Somebody is putting my fat ass on a diet. Somehow I have been craving for burgers lately. Nothing beats having a home-style burger, sipping some whiskey on the rock, and listening to the King of Swing doing his thang at the Carnegie Hall. Can’t wait to grill up another banging burger tonight. I am taking the whole joint this time. Here’s my new eating motto: Eat reckless, die ageless.

From the Q&A of Savage Love in the Village Voice:

I’m a straight girl in my early twenties and I’ve only had one sex partner. Sex was great, and only occasionally did I have to take the guy’s dick and redirect him to the “better” vagina.

Fantabulous!

The Jiggaton mixtape, mash-ups of Jay-Z’s hits and reggae grooves, has some nice cuts for the club including “Mi Amor” and “99 Problems.” The problem isn’t the bitch but the beat, which recycles throughout the album. Unless you have no problem grinding to the same rhythm, the joint gets boring pretty fast.

Kalefa Sanneh reviews T. I. vs. T. I. P.:

T. I. is one of the last rap stars standing, a dominant figure at a time when record sales are falling fast and hip-hop sales are falling faster. (Last year no hip-hop album, not even “King,” was among the 10 top-selling CDs.) And like just about every popular rapper since the 1980s, he is both a sign of the times and an anomaly. He is part of a wave of beat-savvy Southern rappers (many based in Atlanta) who have reimagined the genre over the last decade. But he’s also an old-fashioned lyricist, obsessed with verbal density; Pharrell famously said, “He’s like the down-South Jay-Z.”

You might even say that T. I. has triumphed by turning Jay-Z’s style inside out. Jay-Z knew how to hide sound in sense. His lyrics often sounded like plainspoken prose; it was only later that you noticed the hidden rhyme patterns and rhythms. By contrast, T. I. hides sense in sound. His lyrics often sound like singsong chants; it’s only later that you notice the hidden intricacy of the words.

The four-disc compilation of Hot Jazz on Blue Note is exceptional in song choices and meticulous in the liner notes. Dan Morgenstern deserves his credits for both. In particular, his brief commentary on each track is a wonderful guide for novice listeners. Even if you’re not a jazz freak, you better crank up your AC because the fervent blues, stomping swing and sensational sound of New Orleans get pretty hot and zesty. Sidney Bechet’s “Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me” alone is spicy enough to make you sweat.

The HBO Voyeur Project is a multimedia experience similar to Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Take a peek at the fantastic web site.

In a recent Vietnamese article, Quoc Dung severely criticizes the current computerized production in Viet Nam. Sounds like someone is blowing his own whistle.