Diddiology #1- "D.I.D.D.Y."

In Junior High I listened almost exclusively to hip-hop. I remember taping songs by one hit wonders such as Adina Howard, Paperboy, and Domino from radio stations located in Boston and Providence that barely came in even with the antenna extended. I even had “To the Extreme” and “12 Inches of Snow” on cassette.

The, once high school hit, I drifted away from radio hip-hop and towards radio rock. I still listened to rap and R&B, but I was ashamed of my past transgressions. I started to go back in music history to Public Enemy and 70’s Funk.

Over the years, my love of hip-hop has diminished, but I can still find songs I like here and there. I tend to be a lot pickier in general when choosing what I listen to. I haven’t bought a rap album since Jay-Z put out “The Black Album.” Before that the last one I bought was Outkast’s “Stankonia” in 2001.

Many people, fans or detractors, can not argue that hip-hop has become ridiculously commercialized. Artists (and I use that term loosely) like Soulja Boy and everyone with Lil’ in their name (except Wayne) are only lowering the bar further. These rappers (and I use that term loosely) will only be known as future ring tones. But what is even more distressing is how people still admire someone like Soulja Boy’s ability to make millions out of nothing at all.

You need look no further than your local newspaper for the man I hold personally responsible for fucking up hip-hop. The man is Sean Combs. A.K.A. Puff Daddy, P. Diddy, Diddy, Puff, Sean “Puffy” Combs, Mr. No Bitch Assness, Shiny Suit Man, Sean John, Sean Don, Snuffapuffagus, Plaintiff, Defendant, The Accused, and King of the Hamptons. Two of those are derogatory and one of them I made up.

In the past week, Combs has been in the news no less that six times for different things.

-He partnered with Ciroc Vodka to put his name on a new flavour of fermented potato juice.

-He established a limo taxi service for celebrities so they don’t get arrested when they get drunk.

-He lashed out at the L.A. Times for an article in which he is once again blamed for the death of Tupac.

-He settled a lawsuit brought on by a man who said Combs hit his when he was leaving Elton John’s post-Oscar party. (“Any contact...was caused by his forward motion against my open hand.”)

-He wrapped up his deposition in a civil suit related to the infamous nightclub shooting involving then girlfriend Jennifer Lopez and his former protégé Shyne.

-He received mixed reviews for reprising his role in the T.V. version of the play “A Raisin in the Sun.” (“Yeah, it’s a risky role, one where the person playing it really has to show up.”) The cast included John Stamos, who emerged unscathed.

Now before I rip into the man too much, I have to give him some slight shred of credit. The man is one hell of a producer; possibly one of the best beat makers in the business when he isn’t stealing samples. Without Diddy, we wouldn’t have Biggie or Mary J. Blige. He even helped craft Jay-Z’s true comeback album when he worked on the “American Gangster” soundtrack.

But ever since his popularity as an emcee began to bloom in the late 90’s, it became quickly apparent that no one should let this egomaniac near a microphone or a camera.

I initially set out to craft a top five list of musical offences perpetrated by Sean Combs, but as I started paying attention to these songs and watching the videos, they managed to be even worse than I remembered them. As much as I didn’t want to, I realized there were so many things wrong with these songs and videos that I would have to take notes.

So here is the first in a series where I take a in-depth look at the work of Mr. Diddy, by liveblogging his videos as I watch them.

Instead of starting at the beginning of his ascent to superstardom, and because I wanted to use a song he didn’t produce himself, we will start with the 2001 hit “D.I.D.D.Y.” Produced by The Neptunes (who despite their immense talent will do anything for a paycheck) with a video co-directed by Diddy and Brett Ratner (a.k.a. the Diddy of Hollywood directors who made the “Rush Hour” movies), the song is a paean to success and the yen to cram it down the audiences throat until they shit diamonds and piss glitter simply by spelling your fucking name over and over again.

0:05- This is the video that finally made giant lite-brite walls cool.

0:11- Diddy says “can’t stop/won’t stop” in various forms so many times in his songs you get the impression he thinks he created the line. The truth is, it has been around since he was a little Diddy back in Catholic school.

0:30- Diddy, I know people who make five figures or less that own camcorders.

0:35- Don’t you bring the greatest butlers of all time into this mess.

0:39- Holy shit! Did you just see that? He just blew that poor woman’s mind! Really, really so!

0:58- If the hook wasn’t so terrible I would say how glad I am that the first verse was over.

1:20- I bet he spends all night thinking this shit up.

1:39- Uncontrollable laughter begins to set in.

1:48- Well maybe if you weren’t caught outside a nightclub with a freshly fired handgun in your car, security would probably leave you alone.

2:09- Someone thought a random pop-up video reference would have been hilarious. I’m willing to bet this was Ratner’s idea since I can almost hear him snickering in the background. This whole dance sequence feels like it is in “airquotes;” as if Diddy and Ratner have such contempt for their audience that they don’t think anyone watching will get the joke.

2:36- Here we go. A Diddy classic. Stopping the video for no good reason, because if it worked for Michael Jackson, it has to work for the Diddster. The funniest part is that this is a skit from his “Forever” album from two years earlier. He’s still mad about this?

2:54- Is he reading this off a cue card?

3:00- Only a partial list of nicknames is given or else this would be an eight hour video.

3:16- Diddy has checked his hair three times despite not even having been in a real shower. He may very well do this in real life while listening to skits from his past albums playing in his head. But if this isn’t the most arrogant shit ever, I don’t know what is.

3:21- If you pause it right here as he is laughing at his own joke, he looks like he is being tortured in the bathroom from “Saw.”

3:26- Stop? You want us to stop again? You just ate up a minute of the video for no reason. We just got started again and now we have to fucking stop?

3:28- You rock what? “cuzzanah limits?”

3:32- If you have Asian women to change your linen, why do you still need Bently, Benson, and Mr. Belvedere?

3:43- “Got an agenda, got on a ninja.” Also apparently, the ninja wants to kill me but not offend me. That doesn’t work for me. Killing me will greatly offend me, sir.

4:30- I just realized Pharell hasn’t been in this video in a while. Even though he co-produced the song, it was like he cut out before the video was over.

4:48- And the video comes to a merciful conclusion, but not before we get to see Fonzworth Bently or Bently Fonzworth or whatever the fuck his name is these days dancing like a moron with that stupid grin on his face. I’m sorry, but if this guy is trying to be funny, cute, or ironic in any way, it just isn’t working. This dude is wiggidy-whack. Not just regular kind.

Next week: “Mo Money, Mo Problems.” A video that feels like two videos in one. Neither works