I must thank Duy Cuong for the luminous Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua (Back to Sorriento) album. I am not thanking him for his remarkable musical talent, but for introducing me to the sweet, soulful, and sensuous voice of Thien Phuong. Although her name is unfamiliar to me, I picked up the record anyway because the credit reads, “Produced, arranged, and mixed by Duy Cuong.” Any recording with his name on it, I can reassure that the musical arrangements are top-notch. The only questioning is the vocalist. Can she drive the arrangements?

As soon as Thien Phuong kicks off the first few bars on Trinh Cong Son’s “Chi Con Ta Trong Doi,” my worries are gone. She not only can sing well, but also is matured in handling Trinh’s materials. She is in control of her phrasing, breathing, and delivering. Through her unrestrained and unforced voice, she connects to Trinh’s music. Her elegant interpretation blows soft air into his “Loi Thien Thu Goi” and “Hay Yeu Nhau Di.”

Normally, I don’t pay attention to translated songs, but Pham Duy is a master of music translation, and he does it with passion and precision. “Chu Nhat Buon” is his translation of Seress Rejso’s “Sombre Dimanche.” The rumor is that someone had committed suicide after listening to this song. I am not sure if that is true, but I do feel tremendous despondency when hearing Thien Phuong performs. Likewise, the title track “Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua,” also translated by Pham Duy from E. Curtiss’s “Back to Sorriento,” provides listeners a sentimental experience through the soothing classical chord and mellow groove. The lyrics speak to those who were tired of the war, and dreamed of returning to their normal life. Thien Phuong makes sure to get the message across by offering attention to each note and each rest.

Thien Phuong is consistent throughout the album. Her singing on Le Uyen Phuong’s “Bai Ca Hanh Ngo” is as natural as living, and she flows effortlessly inside Duy Cuong’s gorgeous beats. On Vu Thanh An’s “Bai Khong Ten So 3,” her timbre is fresh with an ethereal, persuading quality that stands out by itself. She breathes life into Hoang Quoc Bao’s “Xuan Thanh Danh Giac Mong Thuong,” soaks her soul into Nguyen Van Dong’s “Nho Mot Chieu Xuan,” and pours her heart out on Pham Manh Cuong’s “Nuoc Mat Tren Phim Dan,”

Tro Ve Mai Nha Xua is no doubt a masterpiece. The album showcases the dynamic of true vocal and musical talent. This is a timeless and peerless record that could be played from start to finish without touching the skip button, and the looping function may be turned on for savory experiences again and again.

Vy-Thao Nguyen writes, “Hieu Thao is a word that is ingrained in every Vietnamese. It means showing loyal reverence to one’s parents.” The more I think about these two words, the more migraine I get. No matter how hard I try, I am never as “hieu thao” to my mother as my cousins or the children of my mom’s friends to their mothers. The responsibility of being a Vietnamese child is not easy. Check out Vy-Thao Nguyen’s essay on “Hieu Thao – The Filial Piety of Today’s Generation.”

Three days ago, I was in a Vietnamese music shop in Philly asking for Tuan Ngoc’s latest album. The retailer told me, “We don’t have Tuan Ngoc new album, but we do have someone new who sings like Tuan Ngoc.” Since I was the only customer, she offered to play Dinh Ngoc’s album produced by Asia Entertainment, so I can get a glimpse of the new singer. As the CD advanced to the second track, she asked, “What do you think?” I smiled, “Yes! He does sound like Tuan Ngoc.”

Welcome to Tuan-Ngoc-esque’s club. Quang Dung, Nguyen Khang, Quang Tuan, Anh Tuan, Quach Thanh Danh, Dinh Ngoc and several other male singers remind listeners of Tuan Ngoc when they perform; however, when Tuan Ngoc sings, none of them existed in his performance. Time has passed and the new may replace the old, but time has not passed by Tuan Ngoc and he is irreplaceable. His latest LP Hay Yeu Nhau Di 2 (Let’s Love Each Other 2) proves that he is like ginger, the older the age, the spicier the taste.

Since Hay Yeu Nhau Di 2 recorded in Viet Nam, the song selection is nostalgic. Dzoan Binh’s “Mot Dong Song Toi Van Hat” (A River I Still Sing) is like a trip down memory lane for Tuan Ngoc, and his mournful voice flows into the arrangement like water hyacinth floating on the quiet river. While he supplies the polish of his vocal to some of Do Dinh Phuc’s exceptional romantic ballads including “Tinh Day Voi” (Full of Love), “Ve Dau Em Hoi” (Where Do You Go?), and “Em Ve Giua Binh Minh” (You Return in the Mid Morning), the album best tracks are the jazz-inflected joints. His intricate phrasing along with the remarkable jazz riff curls like smoke from a cigar all over Do Dinh Phuc’s “Khuc Tinh” (Romantic Ballad). The saxophone and the guitar are enthralling, and together with the hypnotic beat, they enhance the aesthetic experience of the composition. Another magnificent piece under Do Dinh Phuc’s pen is “Voi” (Rush). Tuan Ngoc elegant delivery brings shapes and colors to the track while the rollicking piano accompaniment provides listeners a modern jazz with a shade of blue.

Doan Chuan and Tu Linh’s “La Do Muon Chieu” (Leaves Fall in Multi-direction) is Tuan Ngoc’s signature piece, but both Nguyen Nhat Huy’s “Em Quen Mua Dong” (You Forget Winter) and Nguyen Kim Tuan’s “Bien Can” (Shallow Sea) are not his typical selections. I am surprised that he chooses to perform these popular songs, yet I am even more astonished that he could pull them off with his distinctive style. His attention to the lyrics and his creative interpretation make his performances – not only on these two tracks, but also on the whole album – stand apart from the rest. His masterful singing, his skillful delivery, and his attention to details turn him into a rare gemstone (ngoc) in the Vietnamese-American music community.

Originated from Hue, Banh Beo is like Japanese Sushi in term of visual aesthetic. Unlike the south, Hue foods are more appealing. If you look at the picture, the beautiful layout is similar to a flower. Banh Beo is made of rice flour and garnished with shredded pork and green bean (the yellow part). I am not too crazy about Banh Beo. One dish is all I can take. I am not into the coconut milk part, especially when mixed with fish sauce. The combination is a bit weird for my taste. It’s still a nice dish to have once in a while.

A simple dish coming straight from Hue, Banh Bot Loc is made of rice flour with shrimp and meat inside. The clear flour gives the shrimp a beautiful shape and color inside the flour. Just sprinkle some fried onions and pour in some mixed fish sauce, and it is ready to serve.

The last time I was in Viet Nam, a lady was selling Banh Bot Loc in a stall. By the time I got to her, she only had one dish (five pieces) left. She could see that I liked it so much that she offered to go home to prepare more if I wanted more. Of course, I wanted more because her Banh Bot Loc was amazingly good. She made some extra cash that day and I was able to satisfy my craving for Banh Bot Loc so we were happy.

Celebrating Vietnamese New Year without Thit Kho (Pork Simmered in Caramel Sauce), Dua Gia (Pickled Bean Sprouts) and Banh Tet (Sticky Rice Cake) is like having Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. The combination of the fat of Thit Kho, the sour of Dua Gia, and the sweet of Banh Tet make you want to go hmmmm! As you might notice, we have fried the Banh Tet for a greater taste. And boy! My brother-in-law’s Thit Kho is a killer, especially the fatty parts. They are so uncontrollable when they touch your mouth. The juicy and creamy flavor make you want to eat them and forget about high cholesterol.

Last year, Thanh Lam brought Trinh Cong Son’s music to a whole new level with her recording of Ru Mai Ngan Nam (Lullabies Forever), which earned her 2004 Album of the Year in Ha Noi. This year, she takes Le Minh Son’s work to a higher plateau with her latest Nang Len (Sunrise). Sounding hungry, raw, and full of passion, she cuts straight to the essence of the song and drops verses harder than before. Le Minh Son’s compositions are the fuel that ignites the fire in her voice, something that she has been waiting for. The question is not how far she can reach, but how much she has to restrain her powerful vocals. She never ceases to astonish us with how long she can hold on to a note.

Thanh Lam and Le Minh Son in music are like Robert De Niro and Martin Scorsese in movies. While Scorsese’s films allow De Niro to create his character, Son’s compositions permit Lam to construct her attitude. Her high energy and vivid personality come through on every track. Even when the beats fail her, as they do on the weird pop-jazz arrangement on “Tim Anh Bang Nu Cuoi” (Find You By a Smile), she is still listenable.

While Lam is a gifted singer, Son is a talented musician who adds something new to traditional music with his skillful mixture of folk and jazz; his compositions sound like no others. He has an innovative technique and a fluid style of his own. Nang Len showcases his various tastes including the classical “Nguoi O Nguoi Ve” (One Stays, One Returns), the contemporary folk “Oi Que Toi” (Oh! My Countryside), and the jazz “Anh Se Ve” (He Will Return). Although Lam switches up her flow to blend with different genre, one element remains unchanged; she never sounds soft or weak.

If Son’s lyrics are bullets, Lam’s delivery is a gun. She blows like a 12-gauge shotty all over “Da Trong Chong” (Turned to Stone). As if Lam’s vocals are not sorrowful enough already, Son includes ken bop (a horn used mostly for funerals) along with folk orchestration to boost up his modern-drama version of Hon Vong Phu’s tragic tale. Son has guts and Lam has attitude. Together they make music that flows through our bodies like doses of an adrenaline rush.

On the title track “Nang Len” (Sunrise), Lam authoritative vocal is the driving force behind the symphony. She drives the arrangement like a conductor leads the ensemble. The result is a masterpiece that is rich in detail and thick in texture. “Co Doi” (Couple) is an intricate piece that proves she is the master of phrasing, an aesthetic element that makes the lyrics come to life. On the chorus, she flows as if she could go on forever, and at the same time she lets no breathing sound slip by in between the lines. This is something that many inexperienced singers could not do even when they do not reach the high notes the way Lam does.

Nang Len is an exquisite album that is intended for aficionados, not ordinary listeners. The record not only showcases Lam’s full potential, but also offers listeners all the dynamics and intricacy of the most sophisticated class of music. Is the album worth purchasing? Hell, it’s Thanh Lam. She never puts out anything less than superior performance, and this one is superb.

Big up to Thao Suong for the album.

Hong Nhung is right. Everyone should have a quiet garden. So allow me to present mine. While she shares her quiet garden through her voice, I share mine through my design. The white background brings the site back to the basics. Playing off her album, I added several graphic elements on the bottom right including the dewdrops (Giot Suong) and the woodpecker (Con Chim Sau). Clever huh? Let me pat myself on my back.

As you can see, the layout is not completely redesigned. It is more like a make over. With the Vietnamese tradition, cleaning up the house before New Year is to get rid of the bad luck and prepare for a fresh start. So the site is as clean as it gets, not just only the look and feel but the coding and the structuring was well. I also recreate all the screenshots on the sites section because the old rectangular curves are not pleasing to my eyes anymore. All images on the entire site are now converted to PNG to take the advantage of its transparency. So if I get tired of staring at the white pages, I can change the colors instantly on my CSS file and not having to deal with color matching issue. So don’t be so shock if you see the site fills with purple haze. If that is the case, you know I listen to that Killa Kam’s 1970s heroin flow way too much and not because I smoke cracks.

So there you have it. The cleaner and crisper site is here to celebrate the year of the Cock. No ladies, I am talking about chicken, not dildo. Oh boy! I need a quick nap. Enjoy your staying and have a great Lunar New Year!

Thanks Hong Nhung for the inspiration.

On her latest album Khu Vuon Yen Tinh (The Quiet Garden), Hong Nhung continues to amaze listeners with new tunes. Her taste and understanding of simplicity may prove that she is the most intuitive vocalist of her generation. The freshness of her style allows Hong Nhung to reach her fans far beyond those who live in Viet Nam, not to mention her American audiences. On this album, Hong Nhung invites fans to explore her peaceful space by providing a pure appreciation for nature through a personal listening experience.

The album is simple in its complexity and complex in its simplicity. Distinguished songwriter Duong Thu, who pens six out of eight tracks on this album, recognizes the aesthetic beauty in minimalism. He believes that the simpler the writing, the stronger the expression, and “Giot Suong” (Dewdrop) demonstrates his unsophisticated lyricism. The song is divided into two short verses. Each verse has four lines. Each line contains four syllables. The words are simple, but the visual is accessible – “Giot suong trong vat / ngu trong canh hoa,” which suggests the crystal clear dewdrop sleeping inside the petal. Even though Duong Thu writes these songs for Hong Nhung, the lyrics also reflect his own personality. When the songwriter and singer are in accord with each other, together they bring out the best of both individuals merging into one. On his “Hon Da Trong Vuon Toi” (Stone in My Garden), her soothing flow is right inside the aesthetic of contemporary arrangements.

Beside Hong Nhung’s vocals and Duong Thu’s compositions, the strength of the album also comes from Quoc Trung’s luxurious arrangements. Listen to the way his drum taps on “Tieng Nuoc Roc Rach” (The Babbling Sound of Water) and how easy she is with it. Together they blend their talents to bring an exquisite sound to Duong Thu’s work. When the vocal and the instrumental components weave in and out of one another on Duong Thu’s “Tieng Mua De Lai” (The Sound of The Rain), as if completing one another’s feelings, the beauty of rhythm and harmony still depends on simplicity.

As for Quoc Trung’s own composition, “Con Chim Sau” (Woodpecker) is a breathtaking example of Hong Nhung’s innovative way with an avant-garde song, as she mixes the melody with her own phrases in a playful interaction. Near the end of the song, she goes out of context and sounds like a kid with her vocal manipulation.

The third songwriter contributing to this album is Huy Tuan, who also wrote “Mot Ngay Moi” (A New Day) exclusively for Hong Nhung on her previous album. His “Nang Som” (Early Sun) is a masterpiece that, once again, showcases Hong Nhung’s simplistic and elegant flow. Her perfection in phrasing enables the lyrics come to life.

Khu Vuon Yen Tinh proves once again that Hong Nhung’s stylistic variations are limitless. Duong Thu, Quoc Trung, and Hong Nhung offer a brand new definition of creative freedom, leading listeners to new ground. The album’s lyrical, simple beauty might attract an audience well beyond her dedicated fans. The spellbinding vocal delivery combined with the striking musical arrangement creates a quiet garden where anyone can take a break, breathe fresh air, absorb peaceful sound, and live a simple life. The album reminds us to “manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires.” – Lao-Tzu.

Kristine Sa’s reBIRTH is an album that will attract the Asian boys with their supped up cars. They can just pump it in their rides and nod their heads to the Asian prides. The remixes are catchy, but her inexperienced breath control on the slower tracks disappoints me. She respires hard in between the lines. The sugarcoated tunes are great for club joints but won’t stay too long. Sorry sweetie!