Friday, March 18, 2011

About that Diddy-Dirty Money Performance Tonight...

Maybe it was nostalgia for the '90s, but earlier this week, I put my name on Lux Lounge's RSVP list for the Diddy-Dirty Money performance tonight.  It's supposedly free to those on the list, and any time there's a national act at a downtown club, a decent crowd is basically guaranteed.


Yesterday, I changed my mind about going.  I'm sure you're wondering why.

It's basically because I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to see the suave purveyor of Clinton-era champagne rap.  Remember?  The one whose classic tracks always got parties started and closed the club down?

No, if I showed up tonight, I wasn't going to see Puffy, the icon.  I was going to see Diddy, someone now in his 40s, with a jillion kids, and one-too-many failed made-by-TV groups and undistinguishable R&B starlets and rappers behind him.  Someone who had veered a little too far out of his lane as a producer.  A former hitmaking mastermind who was much better as an architect behind the boards or even designing clothes, who, for what can be nothing other than pride, has decided to focus on sing-rapping in some strange triangular group concept.  Honestly, does anybody understand the whole "Last Train to Paris" theme?

This isn't a dis.  I'm just being honest.  I was in college when Bad Boy blew up, and it would be quite disappointing to confirm in the flesh that it's all gone to wackness and foolery.  I've got to preserve the memories.  Lux will just have to have an open spot on the list tonight.

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