On her fourth solo, Nuoc Mat Mua Thu, produced by Asia Entertainment, Ngoc Ha brings back the nostalgic vibes. What makes her covers of the classic tunes sound so damn fresh are the youthfulness in her performance and authoritativeness in her voice. With such passionate power, she makes me wonder how tones like that could come from petite a physique. I guess it is true that good things do come in small packages.

On the title track, “Nuoc Mat Mua Thu,” Ngoc Ha proves once again that she is one of the best female vocalists in her generation when it comes to covering Pham Duy’s compositions. With brilliant use of vibrato, Ngoc Ha pours her tearful soul out like autumn rain. Her emotional transformation could easily place next to Le Thu’s rendition. Pay particular attention to the way she expresses “troi oi,” and you’ll know what I mean.

Beside her voice, Ngoc Ha’s other strength is the wide range in her repertoire. Soaring like songbird on Pho Duc Phuong’s “Ho Tren Nui,” she demonstrates her skills for handling traditional folks. With an astonishing breath control and a sleek maneuverability around ballroom beats, she rocks the dance floor with Khanh Bang’s “Ngay Ve Que Cu” in paso-double style. Backing up by an orchestra, she gives Pham Duy’s “Kiep Nao Co Yeu Nhau,” a striking semi-classical recital.

Weakest track on the album is Van Phung’s “Gia Tu Dem Mua.” The imperfection is more on the arrangement than Ngoc Ha’s delivery. The cha-cha groove is jerky and weirdly mixed with the acoustic guitar riffs. Still, Ngoc Ha’s vocals and Asia’s productions are a wonderful coil to one another. What I want to hear next from Ngoc Ha is a Pham Duy’s album with the collaboration of Duc Tuan. Imagine that!

In “The La Qua Du,” Kim, a fifteen-year-old chick straight from Ha Noi, attempts to rhyme, “Doi voi toi, hip-hop la mot phan tren co the / Khong the mat no, chac toi se thanh nguoi tan phe.” After listening to her debut album, Kim Vol. 1, I raise the question, “What hip-hop is she talking about?” She can’t ride the beat. She has no flow. Her lyric is elementary. Shortie needs to get her ass back to school and stop fronting like she got game.

This one goes out to the people who try to preach me into believing in God.

“Coke Is It“: Sasha Frere-Jones on cocaine and hip-hop.

Hip-hop may be dead in the US, but just started in Viet Nam. Little Kim represents the ‘hood of Ha Noi.

In retrospect, Visualgui.com came online as a portfolio. After Vassar scooped me up, its main purpose is no longer needed. I then turned the site into a blog, which was my personal journal. It didn’t last too long because the world don’t need to know about my personal life. So I scrapped the journal and started music writing. Whether the CDs were from singers, readers, or my own purchases, I used to review every album I could get my hands on. Thanks to the Internet, music is much easier to get these days; therefore, reviewing music is no longer my top priority. So what will be next for Visualgui.com? I have no idea. It will definitely be around, and I’ll continue to post, but will not devote my time to it like I used to.

It’s time for some Christmas jams.

I posted Bill Evans’s piano solo of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” last year, but it’s so damn good that I am posting it again. Then a short but sweet performance of “Angels We Have Heard On High” by my friend Pham Hong Hanh. Her album, Give Thanks, is fantastic for the holidays. Of course I have to include “Jingle Bells,” the first Christmas song I ever heard, and Diana Krall’s scatting reminds me of how I tried to sing the song without knowing a word of English. Finally, even “Satan Takes a Holiday” (a swing joint from Tommy Dorsey) and so do I.

I am mad “Crazy” for loving you, baby!

Only nine months after the release of Fishscale, Ghostface is giving us More Fish. The album is choked full of guest appearances including Trife Da God, Red Man, and Kanye West. A Ghost’s joint, however, should only be Ghost alone spitting sixty-something bars straight with no hooks, and no one else should interrupt his flows—not even an r-&-b singer. The remake of Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I am No Good” is the only exception. Ghost’s energetic delivery heightens the tune with hip-hop and jazz flavor, and his aggressive crescendo increases the sizzles to the bittersweet affair: “I love you like my coffee: so hot and so sweet.” What makes Ghost so damn pleasure to listen to is his restless drive and his astonishing breath control. Even when he rhymes over Eric B.’s old-school beat and flips Rakim’s script, Ghost proves that he still got juice.

With all the hip-hop-is-dead controversies floating around, Clipse are the real hip-hop’s saviors. On their newest release, Hell Hath No Fury, Pusha-T and Malice cut their coke-slinging tales like movie directors over the Neptunes’ dark, dense scores. From one episode to the next, the album’s twelve solid tracks are packed with accessible images, vivid rhyme patterns, restless flows, and precise productions. The Virginia duo had stepped their game up and crafted a masterpiece that could be experience again and again with guilty pleasures: “I’m at your door, your eyes are like ‘why are you here?’ / Judging by my steel, I got something to do here. / Give up the money or the angel cries two tears / Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year.”

Mezzoblue new design: clean, simple, and wide.

Mariah Carey’s trunk is all I want for Xmas.

Hoover: Hip-hop’s cleaner.

Story of Paul Nguyen is deep from his soul. All these years of blogging, I never have the heart to write something like that.

Thuy Nga vs. Vanity Fair