What strikes me the most about Pham Quynh Anh and Marc Lavoine’s J’espère is the gorgeous motion graphics.

In my review of Ngay Do Co Em, I pointed out the relationship between Duong Trieu Vu and Dam Vinh Hung, and now Mr. Dam uses Brokeback Mountain to express his homo love in Giai Thoat, his latest release. Whether the spoof is his marketing campaign or personal statement, I have no interest in Dr. Dam’s sex identity. I am sure he doesn’t want to define himself either. Musically, he is getting more and more pathetic, and can’t come up with anything new. Even on the bluesy “Anh Don Em Ve,” he applies the same style with his earlier rendition of “Noi Long.” For Chris’ sake, switch up the flow or something, but I guess he and his fans are comfortable with the melodrama crap he puts out. So let’s not give the Brokeback bitch any more grief.

Read Midnight Lightning not because I am interested in Jimi Hendrix’s life, but because I dig Greg Tate’s writing. He sure is one fine critic I have mad respect for. Tate describes Hendrix as “[T]he electric guitar’s Einstein if not its Edison.” And he isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt in love with Hendrix the “dreamfucker” as he analyzes Hendrix’s lyrics, “I make love to you in your sleep and yet you feel no pain because I’m a million miles away and at the same time right here in your picture frame.” Speaking of Hendrix’s sex life, Tates invited Michaela Angela Davis, a fashion and beauty editor for a major African American women’s magazine, to compliment on Hendrix’s pimp juice and for “how liquid and languid he was, and how drippy that made him always seem. Like he was surrounded by a lot of water and could still set shit on fire—literally! He was also drippy without seeming soft or gay and that was because he was not afraid to embrace his inner pimp… I’ve never wished I could have fucked him, but I have wanted to fuck that feeling he was having when he played… watching Hendrix fuck those amps was some of the best sex I’ve ever seen.” Tate also featured a portion of the book to a number of people who were close to Hendrix to speak about him. While these chapters are informative, they could not carry the engaging level Tate could.

His fingers are too short to stride, but Jamie Cullum has a bit of the keyboard chops, and if he would shut the fuck up and just bang out piano chords, I might consider him a serious musician. Until then, he still is a juvenile clown trying to get his swag on. Sure, he could play some quick, slick, and ear-candy solos, but could he extend beyond those? None of his song on Twentysomething leaves room for instrumental improvisation, and his singings take up most of the time. As for his vocals, dude sings (on “These Are the Days” and “All At Sea” for examples) like a spineless little bitch who does nothing but whine, moan, and groan in a hoarse British voice. When listening to his cover of Cole Porter’s “I Get a Kick Out of You,” I sure want to stomp my foot up his ass, and smack the shit out of him for derogating Jimi Hendrix’s “The Wind Cries Mary.” But he is so spontaneous and energetic that ditsy chicks are willing to drop their panties for him. That’s all that really matters.

The spanking new Dean of Freshmen is now live. I chose upbeat colors to make it fresh for the freshmen, but the clean and elegance were also considered for the parents. In addition, I have used the photo on the homepage in a different direction. I originally had the photo appeared at the top, but its large size took up too much space above the fold. I didn’t want to reduce the graphic either because it would lose the effect was I was going for. As a result, I incorporated the image into the whole design by placing the attractive visual at the bottom. It’s a reward for those who scroll.

Thanks to Inky and his jazz-rock vision, I am being drawn back to Electric Ladyland, a Jimi Hendrix Experience. I was exposed to Hendrix as far back as my junior high school years from Mr. Hilt who was my favorite art teacher. Twice a week, I was looking forward to his class so I could just paint and enjoy Hendrix. I didn’t know what the heck I was listening to, but at least the music that came out of his stereo system was not as excessively loud (even though he played at a high volume for a classroom) as other rock shit I couldn’t stand. With Hendrix, I could hear what he was strumming without going deaf, and his virtuoso improvisations were rich and colorful, not just a bunch of white noises screeching up my eardrums.

After hearing his melodic invention on “Voodoo Chile,” I could figure out where Miles Davis got his inspiration for his fusion. In the album liner notes, Derek Taylor quoted what Davis had to say about Hendrix: “He had a natural ear for hearing music… it was great. He influenced me and I influenced him and that’s the way great music is always made. Everybody’s showing somebody something and then moving on from there… Jimi Hendrix came from the blues, like me. We understood each other right away… he was a great blues guitarist.” In the jazz-inflected “Rainy Day, Dream Away,” Hendrix’s riff works along with Freddie Smith’s horn and Mike Finnigan’s organ to create a thought-provoking interaction.

While the psychedelic intro, “…And The Gods Made Love,” gives us a hint of what we are about to enter, the powerful-closer “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” lets us know that the experience will live on after the music stops, or the heartbeat stops—”If I don’t meet you no more in this world, then I’ll meet you in the next one, and don’t be late, don’t be late.” Hendrix crooned. Almost forty years later, the album still rocks!

Anh Tuyet’s Di Tim is the latest attempt to jazz up old-school Vietnamese ballads. To be more accurate, it is an effort from the moldy figs (Anh Tuyet, Nguyen Anh 9, and Bao Chan) trying to get their swing on. Anh Tuyet sure has a fine and mellow voice despite of her age, but she doesn’t have the right chops for jazz. A jazz singer can’t just sing tunes straight the way they were written. The more notes being sung, the less the jazz.

What makes jazz so lively and sexy is that she doesn’t play by rules, but that is not the case here with Anh Tuyet and the musicians (including Ly Duoc on bass, Trong Hieu on piano, and Xuan Hieu on saxophone) who have no rhythmic sensibility for jazz. They don’t have the heart to strip down the standards to their basic structures and then build them back up with their own invention. They are just simply there to back up the vocalist. In the pseudo swing, Quoc Truong’s “Nhung Phut Giay Qua,” not only the rhythm section is unswingable, the rock guitar added an excruciating noise to Anh Tuyet’s pallid flow. The title track feels the same way, but less distracting because no rock riff is involved.

The biggest disappointment of the entire album is that Anh Tuyet hardly pushes her delivery, manipulates her vocals range, or improvises her singing. The only time she breaks free from the written notes is near the end of Tran Dung’s “Loi Chim” where she mimics the bird’s voice. Now if she applies more scat singing and improvising on the blues, like Nguyen Anh 9’s “Buon Oi! Chao Mi,” “Mua Thu Canh Nau,” Trinh Cong Son’s “Vet Lan Tram” and “Hay Khoc Di Em,” she would have created a revelation. In jazz, it is not how well a standard being sung, but how to transform it into an individual statement with new melodic lines while still capable of articulating the lyrics.

In “The Presence Is Always the Point,” which included in Considering Genius, a collection of Stanley Crouch’s writings on jazz, he argues “[t]hat jazz is a music built on adult emotion while rock is focused on adolescent passion created another problem for jazz musicians who tried fusion.” I share his view on rock (not as sophisticated as jazz), but I disagree with his position against Miles Davis’s fusion direction. Davis never lost the complex emotion in jazz when he combined the two styles. Listens to Bitches Brew, one can still hear Davis’s deep expression that came out of his trumpet. Although we both have different views on jazz-rock and hip-hop, I still have respect for Crouch as a jazz critic who speaks his mind with an intellectual voice.

What makes Crouch’s essays intriguing to read is that he does not use heavy technical terms (something I avoid to do myself), yet he could let us hear the sound of jazz through his eloquent pen. If one would like to learn about several important jazz figures—such as Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, Ahmad Jamal, Charles Mingus, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, and Duke Ellington—“The Makers” section is perfect for that, especially the piece on Bird. Crouch started out castigating Clint Eastwood’s Bird (film) and Chan Parker’s To Bird With Love (a book filled with photos), and then told the story of legendary Parker through his own research.

Even though the “Battle Royal” section, which featured eight short pieces Crouch wrote for JazzTimes, is brief, the writings are filled with controversial topics. One comes to mind is the dismissal of John Coltrane. McCoy Tyner, Coltrane’s pianist, left the band because he was “unable to deal with many squeakers, howlers, shriekers, and honkers his boss was invited onto the bandstand.” Yet, one important detail that fascinated me the most in this book is when Crouch’s father made a comment about Billie Holiday: “You should have heard her singing one to a woman. That was when she was really singing. I saw her romancing a girl with her voice just a couple of blocks from here at an after-hours joint up near Adams Boulevard on Central Avenue. She was fine and mellow all right but she was in her element when she was trying to pull a girl up next to her.” Holy shit!

Nas’s “Where Ya’ll At?” from his upcoming Hip Hop is Dead. Yes, hip-hip indeed is losing her touch. I haven’t feel anything from her lately.

Busta Rhymes’s “Untouchable” featuring Rah Digga and Spliff Star. Ra Digga spits, “The only thing tighter than my rhymes is the puss.” Not all puss are tight, alright!

I am not ashame to admit that this kracker was the one that got me hooked into hip-hop. How ironic? Don’t tell me that you didn’t like that “Ice Ice Baby” shit. It was so damn groovy. Also check out his rendition of Destiny’s Child’s “Survivor.” Looks like fans outside the States are still feeling him. Maybe he’s the cat that could bring back hip-hop, and not Nas, Jay-Z, or Common.

Anyone who is familiar with Flash interface should get a kick out of “Animator vs. Animation” by Alan Becker. Even if you have never worked with Flash, it shoud be entertaining as well. The video reminds me of Xiao Xiao’s stick-figure fighting.

Jackson Pollock is kind of kool!

The Two Chinese Boys just published “Don’t Lie” from the Black Eyed Peas. They have definitely lost their humorousness.

Got a real copy of Ngo Minh Tri’s Buon C Major this morning. The final mix is way better than what I got for the review version, which took me quite a long time to appreciate its aesthetics. The arrangements are crisper and the vocals are much clearer. The album is fantastic.