No wait. Thuy Duong’s renditions of Truong Sa’s “Mua Xuan Sao Chua Ve Hoi Em” and “Roi Mai Toi Dua Em” aren’t the right approach to jazz (or blues in these instances). They are more like “râu ông nọ cắm cằm bà kia” or imitated jazz according someone who came down with a “diva” syndrome. But heck, they intoxicated me. Although the pre-arranged productions aren’t ideal for jazz, they are accompanying her vocals well. The voice is really what matters here.
Vince Guaraldi
Adbuliah Ibin Buhaine (Art Blakey)
Sonny Rollins
Duke Ellington
Louis Armstrong
Lady Day (Billie Holiday)
Dizzy Gillespie
Charles Mingus
Inky (Miles Davis)
John Coltrane
Ornette Coleman
Thelonious Monk
People still are furious when David Meng won the People Choice despite he scored the lowest points from the judges. David was a very charming guy. That bright, baby face looked so harmless that you could trust him around your daughter. Furthermore, David was very clever in his song choice. Ninety-five percent of the lyrics in Kasim Hoang Vu’s “Xin Loi Em” were “Xin loi em.” Even though his Vietnamese was not so good, he couldn’t really fuck up on that one. And he was not only apologizing to his lover, but also to his audience if he didn’t enunciate the words correctly. David was not the only one who said sorry and won $10,000. Trinh Lam was doing the same shit with his own “Tai Sao.”
Nhu Loan’s rendition of Trinh Nam Son’s “Ve Day Em” is best I have ever watch. Even when she sings “Va mua dong lanh lung buot gia” without soul and emotion, I still feel the heat. Actually if Nhu Loan and her dancers put on some fucking clothes they wouldn’t be so cold, but keep shaking them booties and showing off them panties, ladies.
Not sure why Tran Thu Ha sang Duong Thieu Tuoc’s “Ngoc Lan” with a big-ass rose adorned on her ear. It seemed like she was not just revealing her voice but her legs as well in a Tran Thu Ha’s Secret wardrobe, but the audience still loved her when she belted out that operatic shit.
The firing of Don Imus for his racist slur doesn’t seem to get into the people’s head, especially the insensitive folks at CBS. The radio show, “The Dog House With JV and Elvis,” aired a prank call the two hosts made to a Chinese restaurant in the following scenario:
In the skit, a series of apparently unsuspecting employees of a Chinese restaurant are berated by a caller who tells one woman he would like to “come to your restaurant” to see her naked, especially a part of her body he refers to as “hot, Asian, spicy.” The caller also attempts to order “flied lice,” brags of his prowess in kung fu and repeatedly curses at several employees. (From The New York Times)
In a situation like this, I wish there are Asian spokemen like Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson to put pressure on these guys who did worse than calling an Asian woman a “ho.” They harrassed her with “come to your restaurant” to see “hot, Asian, spicy.” That’s fucked up. These people bust their ass to get pay. The last thing they want to hear is being ridiculed and cursed at.
Also from The New York Times, “Don’t Blame Hip-Hop,” Kelefa Sanneh raised the following questions:
What if hip-hop’s lyrics shifted from tough talk and crude jokes to playful club exhortations — and it didn’t much matter? What if the controversial lyrics quieted down, but the problems didn’t? What if hip-hop didn’t matter that much, after all?
That’s when hip-hop is dead.
A stunning map of London from NB: Studio.
A stimulating acrylic on canvas from Paula Scher.
A simple, red banner from Donny for today’s homepage.
I was assigned to take photos of students’ work in the Palmer Gallery to create a homepage banner. I found their use of typography is kind of neat so I took some for myself as well. Check out the students’ take on Modern Art and the Mass Media, 1929-1968.
Check out Google Maps‘ direction. Make sure you don’t miss step 24.
Michael Jordan is smoking a joint and getting his groove on to get his mind off the divorce, which will cost him $150 million once settled. Definitely don’t be like Mike.
