Chosen One got the flow and delivery, which are cool for club joints and clowning on Asia’s videos. When it comes to serious hip-hop, however, he is only half way there. He’s lacking the personal expression and the lyrical wit to make a distinctive voice as a rapper. His political statement in “World News” is weak and his technique is stilted. Both “Lyte It Up,” and “Still the Same” are lost in the gangsta shit with the same damn weed-puffing, women-dissing, and amateur-beefing contents, nothing new. Despite the saccharine lyrics, I am feeling that west coast funk in “L.A. Underground Part 2” and Chosen’s dope flow. Still, homeboy has a long way to go in term of lyricism. Keep listening to your mentors (Pac, Nas, Jigga, and AZ) and find your own voice, C.

O Kia, look who’s back? The young, witty, and eccentric Ngoc Khue, whose debut Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh remains a rare work of art, strikes again. After writing a highly favorable review of her first album, I wanted to test the water by playing it at a family-gathering dinner, which included about twenty people. The reactions were what I had expected to be: “What the heck is this music?,” “She can’t even sing,” and “She sounds like ‘len dong’ (calling the spirit).” The last comment is not so far off, but I would prefer to call her style as running-the-voodoo-down. And that is exactly what she has accomplished in volume two, her newest release, by weaving Vietnamese traditional folk into western flavors including jazz, funk, pop, rock, and semi-classical.

Like her previous album, O Kia marks another imaginative collaboration with fusion master Le Minh Son who penned six out of seven tracks and produced the entire album. In the lead-off title track, slinky songbird Khue paints a gorgeous rice-padding scene with white butterfly on the flower, a laughing bee, and a singing bird. The cha-cha beat gives the song a nice, mid-tempo rhythm, but it is her unusual phrasings that take the track to the anomalistic level. Her superb, bizarre technique is best observed on “Bo Song.” Sporting an unorthodox delivery, Khue floats her big, deep, slightly graveled voice in and out of the savory jazz-funk groove. What makes “Bo Song” a masterpiece is the way she swaggers from soulful to playful phrasings with effortless verve, and she has the requisite chops to maneuver her way into the blend of folk, funk, and jazz. Khue switches her flow in the semi-classical “Toc Tha Thuyen” soaring her strident timbre into the soul-soothing sounds of violin and keyboard accompaniment. “Tinh Tang” and Nguyen Cuong’s “Em Khong Vao Chua” are her rock-folk experimentations, and she rocks them both with her prevailing delivery and prodigious techniques.

Once again, Khue offers out-of-the-trend freshness to the Vietnamese musical scene. She also brought her own distinctive style to Le Minh Son’s music. I am so glad that she continues to excel in the avant-garde path she has chosen. Her execution is a tremendous improvement: more confidence, less breathy, and unafraid of vibrato. Her performances can make the mass listeners feel uncomfortable because they are ill-prepared for something that is way too far out there. Khue’s work is not the type of art form that speaks for itself. If we don’t get it, the commiseration is on us.

Bang Kieu and Minh Tuyet on the same album? What was on Bang Kieu’s mind? Moving from Khanh Ha to Minh Tuyet is like trading in a Lexus for a Corolla. But most people love economical car and Thuy Nga is a business-oriented production; therefore, the collaboration is understandable. Pairing up an idiosyncratic combination to provoke curious listeners has always been Thuy Nga’s marketing strategy even though they know damn well that these two voices don’t go together. In their integrated-effort Boi Vi Anh Yeu Em, we can tell right away that they don’t harmonize on the opening duet, Thai Thinh’s “Phut Giay Minh Chia Tay,” with the way they trade lines. Bang Kieu sings high notes while Minh Tuyet stays in the middle register. When they join forces, he has to switch to a lower range to mesh with her weaker vocals.

Although Bang Kieu has a striking countertenor of a voice, I still can’t get over his feminine quality. He needs to smoke some cracks, weeds, and cokes or do whatever it takes to deteriorate his gay-ass timbre or roughen it up. I actually started to accept him when he performed with Thanh Ha and Khanh Ha on Paris By Night videos, but now he takes me back to when I first described his singing as a hen-esque voice (giong ga mai). Crooning bubblegum pop tunes only makes him sounds campier, especially on the Chinese-inflected “Boi Vi Anh Yeu Em” when he caramelizes the words “hoi em” and “cho quen” on the second verse. Why he chose to sing Phan Dinh Tung’s composition is beyond me. I suspect Minh Tuyet puts him up to it.

As for princess Minh Tuyet, whom is she trying to seduce by flaunting out her chest on the album cover? Even Bang Kieu has to close his eyes to avoid staring at her breasts. He knows better not to mess with Trizzy Phuong Trinh. She would beat the shit out of him if she caught him peeping at a younger girl’s cleavage. Minh Tuyet may look sexy (depends on the angle of the viewer) but she can’t make Phuong Quynh’s “Anh Da Ra Di” sounds as sexy as Ho Ngoc Ha could. From the raucousness of her voice to the voluptuousness of her groove, Ho Ngoc Ha epitomizes sexiness. Even her rap delivery is more sensuous than Minh Tuyet’s stilted flow. I heard Cam Ly’s version of Minh Vy’s “Ke Dung Sau Tinh Yeu” not so long ago, and now her sister covers it. Which one do I like better? Neither. I can’t eat too many sweet candies. They make my bad teeth more pejorative. But I am sure young people who have good teeth will chew on this album like a bar of chocolate, especially fans of Minh Tuyet and Thuy Nga, but Bang Kieu’s followers may be disappointed.

Never-seen-before footages of Ngoc Lan’s live performances in “Da Vu Don Xuan” at Ottawa, Canada back in 1991 when new wave was hot in the Vietnamese community. “Comment Ça Va” and “Black is Black” are the first two (out of sixteen) exclusive clips provided by the Viva band to be published on iLoveNgocLan.com. She got the groove, didn’t she? Mad props to Hung Vu, Viva’s keyboardist, for these priceless treasures.

Vassar’s Department of Dance is reinvigorated with the power of minimalism. After assigned with the project, I went through the photo collection and awed by the dancers’ motion. I selected a few striking shots, knocked out the background, and laid out the homepage in an hour. The director of web development (my boss) once asked me, “How do you design so fast and still churn out quality works?” My reply was, “I know when to stop.” Through my experience, I find that the more I refine a design, the worse it gets. And in my refinement process, I tend to throw in more unnecessary elements; therefore, I just stop and trust my instincts when I feel I have accomplished my goal.

On the homepage, I wanted to showcase the strength and liveliness of the dance program. Flash was used to pull up random images and for the transitions to give a sense of rhythm. The dark grey background was chosen to increase the dramatic of the body movements. In the interior pages, I wanted to maintain the strong visual by incorporate images with type in the header but also allowing readability by turning the background to white.

I took a different approach on this project by coming up with the design before knowing what the clients (department’s represented faculties) have in mind. So in our initial meeting, I presented my design and their jaws dropped. They were pleased with the design as much as I do; therefore, the project flew through smoothly. The only section I haven’t been able to touch on is VRDT because other urgent priorities took over. Still, I am happy with the outcome.

Nguyen Dinh Phung’s “Dem Hoai Vong” is a masterful display of Tuan Ngoc’s harmonic sensibility and Duy Cuong’s understated technique. Best to be experienced in a late, peaceful night. Da Khuc Nguyen Dinh Phung is highly recommended if you like this kind of music. If Tuan Ngoc puts you to sleep, don’t bother.

Thu Hoai who is a Visualgui.com’s frequent visitor and one of Philly’s finest vocalists invited me to check out her live performances in front of a small crowd around 100 people. Since I was in the nearby area yesterday, I decided to drop by and I am glad that I did. Thu Hoai is passionate about music, and her singing proved it.

She approached Nguyen Van Thuong’s “Dem Dong” with confidence, and she knew how to transform one of the most beloved ballads into a personal statement. Unlike Diem Lien who presented “Dem Dong” in Asia’s 75 Nam Am Nhac Viet Nam exactly as the composer intended it, Thu Hoai was able to incorporate subtle but individual nuances into her phrasings. There’s always a risk in breaking the composer’s original intention. A singer could either ruin or enhance the work. In her performance, Thu Hoai enhanced it.

With Phu Quang’s “Em Oi! Ha Noi Pho,” Thu Hoai’s gruff, tangy, and authoritative voice brings out the lyrics’ semimetal aesthetics: “Con duong vang ri rao con mua nho / Ai don cho ai toc xoa vai mem.” She then moved toward fitness-enhancing tunes to please the crowd since part of the show included dancing—somebody had to entertain the mack daddies. She packed the floor with Anh Bang’s “Tango Tinh” and ABBA’s “The Winner Takes It All.” I am ashamed to say that I was sitting back and envying the pops getting their groove on with the chicks that are young enough to be their daughters. (“Who’s your daddy?”)

Highlight of the concert is when Thu Hoai provided listeners with an intimate experience. Supported by simple strumming guitars, she poured her heart out on Vu Thanh An’s “Tinh Khuc Thu Nhat” (accompanied by Phu), Trinh Cong Son’s “Tinh Nho” (accompanied by Phu and Dung), and “Nhu Canh Vac Bay (with her brother Minh). Due to the sound issues, the guitar sounds were barely audible, which left Thu Hoai’s singing almost naked as if she was doing a cappella. Although her performances were imperfect, they were full of soul. She took her time to articulate the lyrics.

Music aside, Thu Hoai is a down-to-earth lady. Although we met for the first time last night, we have known each other for while on Visualgui.com. Our love for music (she’s the singer, I’m just the appreciator) brings us together like brother and sister. Big sis, keep the vibe alive. Thanks for the special dedication (“Dem Dong”) and the shout out to Visualgui.com.

Ba Que’s Xua va Nay, a gorgeous traditional/contemporary folk instrumental album for free 99. Don’t say that I don’t hook you up. “Hanh Khuc Tho Nhi Ki” is mad crazy the way they weaved classical melody into eastern sounds.

Beautiful shots of Trinh Cong Son’s ” Phuc Am Buon” concert from Phong Lan and Joseph.

Me, me, me, me, and more me. Damn! Everywhere I go, I see the same hoe.

Video artist Nguyen Tan Hoang spoke and showed eight of his experimental short films at Vassar yesterday. His works are ranging from four to eighteen minutes addressing various topics such as gay Asian American, Vietnamese pop cultures, and sex stereotype of Asian male in mainstream America media. Hoang received his Studio Art’s MFA at the UC Irvine, and is working on his PhD in Rhetoric/Film Studies at UC Berkeley.

From the visual aesthetic sense, Hoang needs tremendous improvements. His amateur productions bring down his messages, way down. I don’t expect Hollywood quality from him, but decent shooting and editing will enhance his works. For instance, Forever Jimmy! is a slideshow featured Asian pop pretty boys including familiar faces of Andy Lau, Jackie Cheung, Aaron Kwok, and Leon Lai. Of course, he also threw in gay pornography to complete the sticky homoeroticism. The way he made the transitions from one image to the next were so bad (too jerky and too many cheesy effects) that I almost began to get seasick. Thankfully, it was only six minutes long or else I have to walk out of the auditorium.

His concept in Pirated! shares some similarities with my “A Few Gifts For My Homeland.” He also used “Mot Chut Qua Cho Que Huong,” but a Khanh Ly’s rendition. The main difference between our works is that I tell mine from the women’s and children’s view while he tells his from a gay man’s standpoint. The video starts off with clips of fleeing boat people then progresses into homosexual pirates. Even though the piece relates to the Vietnamese people, he hesitates to show it to them because he concerns about the homosexual context. With the political issues I had faced with my own work, I understand where he’s coming from. Been there and done that, but I have also learned and met many open-minded individuals through the entire controversy. I feel that the Vietnamese-American community is not so conservative anymore. My negative reaction to Pirated! is not the homosexuality (I don’t have a homophobic problem) but the way he presented it. The experience is pretty disgusting when listening to Dalena singing “Lan va Diep” while watching two guys fucking, especially when we understand the lyrics. “Lan va Diep” is not a lovemaking tune. A couple has to be real tasteless to be humping to that song. He should have just incorporated some Chinese-translated songs, and the scene would have worked fine. Maybe a Vietnamese campy version of ABBA’s “Voulez Vous” would be better.

Speaking of Dalena, Cover Girl: A Gift From God is an eighteen-minute documentary on the talented American female who sings perfect Vietnamese. Hoang pulled together clips from Thuy Nga’s Paris By Night video, and he did a horrendous editing job. The film fails badly because it gives viewers the wrong impression about Dalena (she did look horrible on some of the Thuy Nga’s clips). The audiences were giggling and laughing at her. So the video comes across as an exploitation of Dalena, but I am glad that wasn’t Hoang’s intention. He reemphasized at the end of the lecture that he respects her talent and the film was not meant to be ridicule.

I give Hoang props for his openness about his cultural and sexual identities. In Forever Bottom!, he wants to give viewers the feeling of fucking an Asian guy by putting us, the audiences, in the top position. The four-minute clip shows the pleasure of the bottomhood as the guy being slammed in the anal in various public places including in the car, on the beach, and on the bench. Hoang gets his point across well with the in-your-face, hardcore style, but he should have done it a professional and classy manner. I also hope that he reaches deeper into Vietnamese music around the world rather than just relying on Thuy Nga’s production for his research on Vietnamese pop culture. His perception on Vietnamese music is the recycling of same old songs. That is what he gets when he only looks at Thuy Nga’s products. The music scene has been evolving drastically and many new, original works are from independent musicians around the world and especially in Viet Nam. And for art’s sake, learn the aesthetics of filmmaking. I highly recommend Hillman Curtis on Creating Short Films for the Web.

When it comes to rain, nobody pours like my Lady Day. The way she expresses the word shine in Harold Allen’s “Come Rain or Come Shine” sounds like a tiny candle glowing wearily in a dark corner and eventually blown out by her naked wind of emotion. I have listened to various rendition of this song (Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Gayle Moran, Eric Clapton and B.B. King), yet none could drag the sadness out of it like she does. When she phrases, “I’m gonna love you like nobody’s loved you,” her desperation has become uncontrollable, and the pouring rain outside added a bone-wrenching sorrow to her singing. I had to stop listening to Holiday because she commends full attention and I needed some sleep. With my Billie’s collection, I am sure I could listen to her for two days straight.

I switched to Hong Nhung’s Thuo Bong La Nguoi for something soothing and relaxing to lull me into my night. I dropped the volume down to an almost mutable level so that the arrangements ease back and rain could cascade into her voice. The result turned out to be unexpected. Trinh Cong Son lyrics came to life. In “De Gio Cuon Di,” Hong Nhung’s delivery froze me when she croons, “Hay nghieng doi xuong nhin suot mot moi tinh / Chi lang nhin khong noi nang.” Trinh’s wordplay is amazing. He was able to tilt life and look at her in a different perspective, but only to observe quietly without a word. He had to be a lover of life to have such a beautiful soul or “tam long” (Is it “loving-kindness?”) as he suggested, “Song trong doi song can co mot tam long. De lam gi em biet khong? De gio cuon di” (To live your life you need a loving-kindness. Do you know what it is for? To let the wind twirls).

The experience of listening to music with the sound of rain in the stillness of the night is incomparable, but it also contributed to my insomnia. Although my brain doesn’t function too well today, my works tend to carry more emotions when I am half asleep. I am in a perfect state of mind for designing but not coding.