Visualgui.com returns to the bare bone with the least amount of colors and zero graphic. After all, “Web Design is 95% Typography.” Khoi Vinh’s Subtraction sure is a perfect case study.

Our man HmL—who needs no further introduction if you’re a regular visitor to Visualgui.com—will be biking for the Break Away from Cancer, a ride to “benefit the National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship and The Wellness Community to support free programs and services that help people living with cancer,” on Sunday, November 12th, 2006 in D.C. area. So let’s give him our support not because he’s a wonderful guy, but for goodness sake.

After a year and a half of hiatus, Thuy Tien—the rock chick who inspired me to create “Ao Dai Trang A Oi” motion slideshow based on her eccentric composition—makes a quiet return as Narcissus (“a young man who pined away in love for his own image in a pool of water and was transformed into the flower that bears his name.” –American Heritage Dictionary). The concept of dark, mysterious metamorphosis, which smoked up once again by producer and songwriter Quoc Bao, is a masterful complement to Thuy Tien’s introverted personality and idiosyncratic style.

Narcissus (Thuy Tien Vol.2) sets off the night mood with a brief a-cappella intro, in which Quoc Bao distorted Thuy Tien’s vocals to make her sounds like an alien from out of space. As soon as “Ngay Binh Thuong” begins, we’re maneuvered into her stream-of-consciousness epic. Even though the tune is just about an ordinary day, Thuy Tien floats her ethereal vocals into the hypnotic rock beat like a ghost passing through flying bullets, then ends the piece with a cute little giggle. On “Mo,” she lures us into her dream as she transmutes herself into a nightingale roaming away into the darkness. As the beat gets harder, her voice gets creepier. Yet the pinnacle of her vocal and lyrical artistry comes to life in “Dong Song Mo Coi,” in which she pens about her deceased father: “Dem buon nam khoc nho cha. Loi kinh me ru, ‘au o… au o… Ngu ngoan con nhe, cha di mat roi khong ve nua dau.’” After the soft and sensual piano lays down the harmony to escort her folksy crooning, the rhythm section takes over and rocks the joint up, but it is the Jimi Hendrix’s riff from guitarist Anh Tuan that sets the tune ablaze. Unfortunately, she departs from the hardbeat rock with “Bay Gio” where her voice becomes so banal that not even the jazzy keyboard could save the dullness. “Thuy Tien,” the title track, is a complete disaster when Nam Khanh pours his opera shit into the chorus. “Quen,” however, testifies her maturity in handling slow tempo. From her breath to her emotional control, you could feel her pain when she burns the night with her eyes, yet she doesn’t need your pity.

The outro “Nocturnal” almost closes out the album. Lord knows what she sings in English, and thank God the trance-flavored “I Could Still Love,” is a bonus track. I suppose when the bass thumps like it is about to blow out your speakers, you don’t need to make out what the hell the lyric is about. Quoc Bao, once again, is showing off his writing in English, and makes the poor girl suffers. Still, he’s a damn innovator, and a cocksure one too. Mad props to him and Thuy Tien for this groundbreaking work that surpasses Ha Tran’s Communication ’06 without making too much hype out of it.

Get past the monotonous vocals and you’ll be to enjoy her move. Vy drops it like it’s hot in “Musicality.”

Although I still have issues with his bitch-ass voice, I have to give him the props for his powerhouse rendition of Nguyen Anh 9’s “Buon Oi, Chao Mi.”

Nguyen Khang’s rough and raspy quality suits my ears more, and his performance on Huynh Nhat Tan’s “Se Khong Con Yeu” is hard to match. He also takes me on a trip down to memory lane with “Dem Nho Ve Sai Gon.”

Enjoy your weekend, folks!

Caught Wanda Sykes’s Sick and Tired on HBO the other night, and she cracks me the hell up. Lesser profanity and lighter-handed on racism than Chris Rock, but she is on point with her comic reliefs as a stand-up comedian, especially on her sarcastic references. For example, check out a clip of “Men Aren’t Dog.” Further on men, she wishes that she could rip our eyeballs out and shove them up our butt to let us see for ourselves what an asshole we are. I have to give that one to her, but her view on “getting old” that still stuck in my mind. As we’re aging, we just “don’t give a fuck.” And “‘I don’t give a fuck’ just flies out of my mouth,” she continues, “Even if I don’t say it, I think about it.” As for her presentational skill, she is calm, cool, and effortless throughout the show. I’ll definitely looking forward for more of her work.

They say white men can’t swing. Not Benny Goodman. He was the king of swing who held down the Savoy’s dance floor nights after nights. Goodman had a lovable sound and fluid flow on the clarinet. His live performance of “Runnin’ Wild” is both sweet and swing. His drummer Gene Krupa drops quite a few “bombs” (snare and bass combo) up in the joint.

If you don’t know Pops, you don’t know jazz. I dig the good old New Orleans Pops who blew everyone away with his trumpet, not the internationally known Pops who made popular hits like “What a Wonderful World” and “Hello Dolly.” I am talking about the astonishing jazz pieces in the early days like “Hotter than That,” a jammed version of the final strain of “Tiger Rag.” Let’s hear what made Pops a musician’s musician:

“Hotter than That” kicks off with an eight-bar introduction.

.08 A: 32 bars with a break in between. Pops improvises on the chorus and ended exactly at the break.

.44 A: Another 32 bars in which clarinetist Johnny Dodds does his solo.

1:20 A: Pops drops his amazing scat-singing chops, which sounds like his trumpet. Near the end of this chorus, Pops and guitarist Lonnie Johnson trade some phrases with each other until Lillian Hardin Armstrong (Pops’ wife) impatiently lays down the beat at the piano, as if she’s saying, “Ok boys, enough playing around, let’s get back to business.”

2:18 Trombonist Kid Ory takes over the first 16 bars, then Pops returns sailing in and brilliantly closes the tune out. Pops and Johnson create a novelty ending with a strange interaction and unsettling chord.

Lester Young was the Prez (a nickname given by Billie Holiday) of ballad. His rendition of “Love Me or Leave Me” is a perfect demonstration of how a standard should be covered. He takes the basic structure and improvises on it. Vietnamese musicians should take cues from Prez the next time they want to jazz up a Trinh Cong Son’s composition. As for the sax style, Prez had a cool and almost vibratoless sound. With his feathery tone, superb phrasing, and breathless-flowing lines, Prez inspired numerous musicians, including modernist Charlie Parker.

Count Basie was the master of understatement. He was known for his laconic piano. With a tight rhythm section (includes bassist Walter Page and drummer Joe Jones), behind him, Basie plays exotic spare keys. The technique that spells Basie sound could be heard right in the intro of his “Honeysuckle Rose” performance. And Basie knew if he had your feet, your heart and soul would follow. Love the call-and-response effect between brass and reeds sections near the end.

Sure, Jelly Roll Morton was the one that placed a pistol on his piano when his sideman didn’t play the way he wanted. Needless to say, he was an important figure of jazz. His version of “Maple Leaf Rag” deserts from Scott Joplin’s original. By throwing syncopation in his left hand, Morton flipped the rag composition into a jazz performance. His inventive rendition is more elaborate and freer rhythmic improvisation.