The Next Spot is a recurring series dedicated to the albums that could’ve, would’ve, should’ve made the Decade Top 50.
Up in our merger, there’s foul murders
Turkeys to cow-burgers, the code of our murder
Child, if you style or a wild splurger
Stay away, okay? Mr. Giles will hurt ‘ya.
If there was ever a mission statement for The Diplomats, who– let’s not kid ourselves– pretty much ran New York during the early part of this turbulent decade, the opening bars of “DJ Enuff Freestyle” should be their butcher-shop mantra. Or maybe, “This is a movement, this is a union/This is more than what you people call ‘music’.” Diplomatic Immunity, less a double-disc album and more accurately a compilation of the best moments of Diplomats 1 & 2, which redefined rap bootleg culture by popularizing the single-artist mixtape. Carried by the record’s two star-players– one a longtime NYC rap underdog finally getting close enough to reach the city’s throne, the other a young gun-slinger given the opportunity to shoot from the front seat– Diplomatic Immunity was a coming-out party (I don’t think the term “no homo” has ever been more appropriate) for two of the most compelling rappers to come out of the city this decade.
The crew obviously starts with Mr. Giles himself, Killa Cam, a man whose joyous disregard for the conventional helped him become not only an enthralling lyricist (“Let‘s get lost in Camby/I got lobster in Boston, Austin/Floss in, of course, Miami“), but a trendsetter (let’s face it, nearly every black dude you know had at least one pair of Air Force 1’s with the pink swoosh). Coming off the heels of the platinum-selling Come Home with Me, for Cam’ron, Diplomatic Immunity was triumphant and celebratory. It was the sound of him sticking his tongue out at the wreckage of the Twin Towers and taking the elevator to the top of the Eifel. “You’ll get side-swiped, look at my life/First movie ever, murked out Mekhi Phife.“ Behind a cocky smirk and under an Osh-Kosh B’Gosh bucket hat(!), you can smell the champagne from the locker room celebration on his breath in almost every verse; two arms up, touchdown.
For Juelz Santana, Dipset’s next-in-line, Diplomatic Immunity was the vehicle in which he, a habitual truant with perfect attendance in chemistry class, displayed an introspectiveness well beyond his then-19 years, while admitting that he “does talk about some bullshit, too.” Santana’s verses are inhabited by teachers who told him he wouldn’t amount to anything, the elder statesmen in his crew who he looks up to with an almost blind devotion, his own underlings whom he offers advice (“Clockwise, counter-clockwise/It’s all in the wrist, shorty.”), and dead bodies. Lots of them. Only the vast majority of the bodies aren’t from his own hand; Santana’s eyes are transfixed on the wreckage of Ground Zero, debris and human bodies scattered everywhere, with the latter losing color to horrifying decay. There is a slight obsession with 9/11 in Juelz’s verses, with multiple allusions to the Taliban, the tragedy’s effect on the crack trade, and a short prayer for the victims. The Heatmakerz-helmed, chipmunk-soul-tinged beats are tailor-made for Santana, who uses their dramatics to wring every drop of emotion out of his voice, which Dipset capo Jim Jones tries to a degree, but is not nearly as successful.
An underlying theme in Diplomatic Immunity is betrayal, with Cam providing multiple allusions to the feeling of getting his back turned on him. This provides a weirdly clairvoyant context to the album, given the messy divorce of Dipset over the past couple of years. Cam called it himself in “Purple Haze”: “If you don’t crush your own weed up, and put it in the blunt yourself, your own brother will hand you some dust.” But Diplomatic Immunity is a snapshot of a time where this crew of charismatic anti-heroes were on top of the Big Apple, and serves the time before the syrup allegations and the suggestion of a fake beef that caused the riff between its two principles. And now, all we have are the songs and the promise of their near-takeover. Burn the town down one more time. What the hell, scrap?–Douglas Martin
Download:
MP3: The Diplomats-”I Really Mean It”
MP3: The Diplomats-”What’s Really Good?”
14 comments
Trey Stone says:
August 20, 2009 at 2:02 am (UTC -7)
no no no. four good songs (“The First,” the Master P one and the two Just Blaze tracks) does not a good album make. i mean i like “Purple Haze” but this album pretty much defines my problems with the “Dipset sound,” only it sounds a little more expensive. all cheap flash.
really i like that indie rap nerds (kidding) are more fair these days about select mainstream rap, but outside of a couple Cam’ron solo albums and a handful of other songs i kinda feel like Dipset’s one of those things that should stay buried, ivory tower elitism or no. along with post-Biggie Bad Boy/No Limit/early Cash Money/G-Unit.
douglas martin says:
August 20, 2009 at 3:01 am (UTC -7)
trey, i somewhat disagree. i think this record serves as not only an insightful jump-off point to where cam went on purple haze(i.e. naming the entire album off of the diplomatic immunity track of the same name), but is the lone reference point of the squandered promise that juelz santana carried.
douglas martin says:
August 20, 2009 at 5:13 am (UTC -7)
trey, i somewhat disagree. i think this record serves as not only an insightful jump-off point to where cam went on purple haze(i.e. naming the entire album off of the diplomatic immunity track of the same name), but is the lone reference point of the squandered promise that juelz santana carried.
Sorry… forgot to say great post – can’t wait to read your next one!
anon says:
August 20, 2009 at 9:01 am (UTC -7)
Shit. Well, I was pleasantly suprised with Purple Haze, so now I guess imma try this stuff too. This 50 best of the decade and these follow posts are broadening my horizons. I found out I actually like some stuff I summarily dismissed earlier this decade. Thanks for the hard work guys
DocZeus says:
August 20, 2009 at 9:47 am (UTC -7)
I still think Byron Crawford’s review of this album is the definitive review of Dipset of our time.
http://www.byroncrawford.com/2004/04/album_review_7.html
In fact, I’m kind of fan of all his reviews from this era of Dipset. His review of Jim Jones’ On My Way To Church is probably the single greatest music review of the last ten years.
Disco Vietnam says:
August 20, 2009 at 10:07 am (UTC -7)
As someone from New York Dipset did not run New York.
Passion of the Weiss says:
August 20, 2009 at 10:10 am (UTC -7)
Didn’t Bloomberg make Freeky the director of the dept. of sanitation?
hook says:
August 20, 2009 at 11:40 am (UTC -7)
I gotta admit I haven’t heard this, but unless Juelz really stepped his game up incredibly from Come Home With Me I can’t imagine him being as good as you say. The reason I could never get down with the Diplomats is cause Cam is the only one worth listening to. Juelz is on some alphabet shit, and Jones is just fucking awful. Santana’s gotten a little better in the last few years (his verse on Carter III was pretty nice)but I remember hearing his first solo joint (which came out after Diplomatic Immunity) and not being able to take it. So I’m skeptical. Plus the Heatmakerz get old real fast. But maybe I’ll cop this used if I see it for four bucks or something.
hook says:
August 20, 2009 at 11:44 am (UTC -7)
Oh, and cosign that Byron Crawford review. He should really review more albums.
Sach says:
August 20, 2009 at 11:53 am (UTC -7)
Juelz and Jimmy were awful but they worked great in a group context, sort of like Banks and Yayo actually.
Alex Ludovico says:
August 20, 2009 at 7:53 pm (UTC -7)
Yes, yes, &YES! I knew someone would get around to this record! Now that I’m 23, this record reminds me of being 16. The Diplomats owned my high school. And I went to school in the midwest. Me and 2 buddies skipped class the day this record dropped to be at Circuit City when it opened. I remember thinking Juelz was seriously better than Cam (ridiculous) and that Hell Rell was gonna own shit when he got out (even MORE ridiculous). This is probably the record that started my rap career. I used to own the aforementioned Air Force Ones, along with a pink 4xl tall tee and pink Yankees fitted. I wanted to be Cam. This made realize that I shouldnt pick on my little brother for being obsessed with Soulja Boy, because I was him. Difference being that Cam could actually spit. I think im gonna pull out that pink Yankee, turn this up, and remember debaring about JR Writer being a top 5 MC. oh to be 16 again…..
Jason says:
August 22, 2009 at 2:56 am (UTC -7)
Doc- I checked out the Byron review of this album and by golly if the comments/response to it didn’t prove his point exactly. Dipset is some of the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. It kinda reminds me of the response I used to to get in my suburban detroit mall casually ripping ICP in front of juggalos.
Jimmy says:
September 20, 2009 at 11:39 am (UTC -7)
No matter what you say, these dudes did it and did it well. They showed crazy promise, and after hearing and double cd that went platinum, you thought they could go nowhere but up. Then I heard Part 2. Sounded like a throwaway mixtape. Beginning of the end for me.
Rossdewees says:
October 16, 2009 at 4:04 am (UTC -7)
As far as Whats really Good? No rapper in NYC (eight million stories) who came up in the new century can say that they were not influenced by the dips. They were not only the most confident sucessful, talent crew really doing it, they captured the heart of a neighborhood in the city, sending out a sound to all of the cyphers in the streets and partys. So when You think about dips, understand that your talking about a movement, and really the most streets movement. Un kasa is the perfect example. Thats the first song on this album and the epitome of what im talking about. Purple city Byrdgang? You could see a 18 yr. old emcee dreaming of being in the position of affiliation with this hoodstar mentality. Dipset was taking smack to a whole new level. SAntana is dropped on the album, the streets new Juelz, but then this kid rips a sentimental soul sample that is at the time one of those cutting edge (maybe a 4/4?) hot tempo hyhat drums with the heavy bass that seperates dip production from others. Juelz has a nice flow, that cant be denied. His lyrics, to a teenager, sound like the depictions of a realistic portrayal of the mind of a monster. You see people in NYC, you meet men and ladies in streets anywhere that you imagine a what; dipcity, the music is at once addictive and pro-cathartic. This is the passion of people coming from a reality where only poverty and exploitation exist, they are aiming to inspire and control a neighborhood, city, state, country and hopefully internation; eurogang, dipskate. But like the Twin towers, props to the writer, the dips fell like the towers from some taliban shit. Juelz really was like the taliban, but really the same old gang is over, but they all still doing they dipset thing. Its all marketing as far as my perspective, and it makes the music compelling. The things they say are