By Renee Graham, Globe Staff | May 18, 2004
As Babs would say, "That's a wrap, yo."
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Was anyone really surprised when last week's season finale of MTV's "Making the Band 2" also marked the end of the babies and malcontents collectively known as Da Band? Sean "P. Diddy" Combs officially pulled the plug on the rap group he assembled two years ago, plucking its six members -- Babs, Ness, Sara, Fred, Chopper (also known as Young City), and Dylan -- from about 40,000 auditioning wannabes. Now the group, once signed to Combs's Bad Boy Records and touted, at least by Combs, as hip-hop's next superstars, are near has-beens just one album deep into their careers.
By the time Combs ended the whole pathetic escapade, there were only four members left. Dylan, who added his dancehall reggae flava when he actually bothered to show up, was finally kicked out of the group and out of Combs's Park Avenue house, where the band lived this season. Fred, the thumb-sucking Miami hothead, dropped out after his manager had the audacity to ask him to return to New York for a meeting with Combs.
In a conversation with more expletives than an episode of HBO's "Deadwood," Fred declared he was tired of being in the group. "Tell them to cut me, dawg," he drawled before hanging up.
Fred was smart to avoid the meeting, since Combs spent a good portion of it tearing down the remaining members. Chopper was deemed too immature, while Sara, the group's only singer, was chided for her aspirations of solo glory. Combs called Babs "a total disappointment to the Brooklyn, N.Y., hustle" and a "co-conspirator' in much of Da Band's incessant infighting. Ness, always P. Diddy's pet, was let off the easiest, because he didn't screw up as much as the others.
And then came the final verdict, with Combs proclaiming that their lousy attitudes besmirched both hip-hop's and Bad Boy's reputations. Still, there was a reprieve for Babs and Ness, whom Combs said he will continue to work with on a "probationary" basis, although he's already calling them "hip-hop's new Bonnie and Clyde." And on Friday, Combs announced that he has signed the New Orleans-raised Chopper to his new offshoot label, Bad Boy South. Meanwhile, Dylan has just released a Combs diss track, "Dear Diddy" on a mix tape.
This doesn't mask the tremendous opportunities they all squandered because of their pettiness, petulance, and laziness. Yes, as part of an initial hazing, they had to walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn to fetch Combs a piece of cheesecake, but they basically had recording careers handed to them, careers they claimed over and over meant everything.
They loved the attention of the fans, and especially the money. But for the most part, they wanted little to do with the hard work necessary to maintain the spotlight. If last season was about chasing a dream, this year was about what happens when dreams are undermined by callow people. Their dreams soon looked too much like the jobs they hoped to avoid when they signed their record contracts.
Da Band's first album, "Too Hot for TV," debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 album chart last fall, and that might have been enough to make them believe they were bona fide stars. But it was all downhill from there. The album quickly dropped, and their videos couldn't even get any love from MTV.
That's because the album was as lame as the TV show is entertaining. Working with Combs, who for all his considerable drive and ambition is immune to originality, certainly didn't help.
Make no mistake -- if "Too Hot for TV" had sold 2 or 3 million copies, Combs would have continued the venture, no matter how many shows Dylan missed, no matter how many times its members regarded one another with icy silence. So now Da former Band is starting over again. Ness definitely has skills, and Sara has a lovely voice that frankly never belonged in Da Band. In all likelihood, we haven't heard the last from any of its members -- some may make albums, others will probably make police blotters.
At the very least, what's happened to its members, all culpable in the unmaking of Da Band, should serve as a cautionary tale for every kid whose hip-hop dreams feature only fancy cars and adoring fans, not a blur of hotel rooms, months away from loved ones, and the unyielding realities of a music industry in which you're only as good as your last album.
Renee Graham's Life in the Pop Lane column appears on Tuesdays. She can be reached at [email protected].
As Babs would say, "That's a wrap, yo."
ADVERTISEMENT
Was anyone really surprised when last week's season finale of MTV's "Making the Band 2" also marked the end of the babies and malcontents collectively known as Da Band? Sean "P. Diddy" Combs officially pulled the plug on the rap group he assembled two years ago, plucking its six members -- Babs, Ness, Sara, Fred, Chopper (also known as Young City), and Dylan -- from about 40,000 auditioning wannabes. Now the group, once signed to Combs's Bad Boy Records and touted, at least by Combs, as hip-hop's next superstars, are near has-beens just one album deep into their careers.
By the time Combs ended the whole pathetic escapade, there were only four members left. Dylan, who added his dancehall reggae flava when he actually bothered to show up, was finally kicked out of the group and out of Combs's Park Avenue house, where the band lived this season. Fred, the thumb-sucking Miami hothead, dropped out after his manager had the audacity to ask him to return to New York for a meeting with Combs.
In a conversation with more expletives than an episode of HBO's "Deadwood," Fred declared he was tired of being in the group. "Tell them to cut me, dawg," he drawled before hanging up.
Fred was smart to avoid the meeting, since Combs spent a good portion of it tearing down the remaining members. Chopper was deemed too immature, while Sara, the group's only singer, was chided for her aspirations of solo glory. Combs called Babs "a total disappointment to the Brooklyn, N.Y., hustle" and a "co-conspirator' in much of Da Band's incessant infighting. Ness, always P. Diddy's pet, was let off the easiest, because he didn't screw up as much as the others.
And then came the final verdict, with Combs proclaiming that their lousy attitudes besmirched both hip-hop's and Bad Boy's reputations. Still, there was a reprieve for Babs and Ness, whom Combs said he will continue to work with on a "probationary" basis, although he's already calling them "hip-hop's new Bonnie and Clyde." And on Friday, Combs announced that he has signed the New Orleans-raised Chopper to his new offshoot label, Bad Boy South. Meanwhile, Dylan has just released a Combs diss track, "Dear Diddy" on a mix tape.
This doesn't mask the tremendous opportunities they all squandered because of their pettiness, petulance, and laziness. Yes, as part of an initial hazing, they had to walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn to fetch Combs a piece of cheesecake, but they basically had recording careers handed to them, careers they claimed over and over meant everything.
They loved the attention of the fans, and especially the money. But for the most part, they wanted little to do with the hard work necessary to maintain the spotlight. If last season was about chasing a dream, this year was about what happens when dreams are undermined by callow people. Their dreams soon looked too much like the jobs they hoped to avoid when they signed their record contracts.
Da Band's first album, "Too Hot for TV," debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 album chart last fall, and that might have been enough to make them believe they were bona fide stars. But it was all downhill from there. The album quickly dropped, and their videos couldn't even get any love from MTV.
That's because the album was as lame as the TV show is entertaining. Working with Combs, who for all his considerable drive and ambition is immune to originality, certainly didn't help.
Make no mistake -- if "Too Hot for TV" had sold 2 or 3 million copies, Combs would have continued the venture, no matter how many shows Dylan missed, no matter how many times its members regarded one another with icy silence. So now Da former Band is starting over again. Ness definitely has skills, and Sara has a lovely voice that frankly never belonged in Da Band. In all likelihood, we haven't heard the last from any of its members -- some may make albums, others will probably make police blotters.
At the very least, what's happened to its members, all culpable in the unmaking of Da Band, should serve as a cautionary tale for every kid whose hip-hop dreams feature only fancy cars and adoring fans, not a blur of hotel rooms, months away from loved ones, and the unyielding realities of a music industry in which you're only as good as your last album.
Renee Graham's Life in the Pop Lane column appears on Tuesdays. She can be reached at [email protected].
