The Devil and Mr. Combs
It was the Summer of 1993 in Atlanta, Georgia at the annual âJack The Rapperâ music convention in the downtown Hilton where I first heard the name Sean âPuffyâ Combs (as he was then known) and his Bad Boy Records Imprint. Having lived in Atlanta since 1989 I found the annual music convention a convenient place to preview up and coming urban talent from around the country. Since I dabbled in event promotions myself, the convention was great for networking with industry professionals. Rap had come a long way from its birthplace in New York City, and the diversity of content from new markets such as Los Angeles, Texas, and Florida were often showcased at Jack The Rapper.
Early in the convention I observed a dark-complexioned, wiry young man, who Iâd later discover was Sean Combs, popularly known as Puffy. He was enthusiastically dispensing marketing material for his new music label, âBad Boy Records.â This was pre-entourage Combs and his sole companion was another more athletically built young man wearing a white âwife beaterâ displaying his sinewy upper body. Combs and his associate stopped to chat with a woman, and from where I stood it looked to be a professional discussion. It wasnât long before a lone individual in a wheelchair approached the three and said, âYo Puff, lemme holla at you.â Combs barely acknowledged the man while replying, âGimme a minute.â What happened next was totally unexpected as the handicapped man spat on the trio who were in utter shock. The assailant then rolled off in his wheelchair as if nothing had happened while Combs sought to placate him to no avail. Turns out the man in the wheelchair was a notorious Los Angeles Crip gang member who had no patience with the gangsta poseurs of the rap industry.
This version of Sean Combs is a very different one from the man weâve all seen in that recently released infamous video pummeling a woman in a hotel hallway, or the one currently facing decades in federal prison for a litany of crimes. In the hyper masculine rap world artists morph into aggressive thugs from happy-go-lucky minstrels seamlessly. Rappers and their affiliates typically evolve from meek to boisterous and brazen with the increase of fame and fortune. Sean Combs is no exception in this regard. His success brought about the predictable behavioral shifts coupled with ample name changes to match. The colorful monikers ran the gamut from; Puff, Puff Daddy, Sean John, Puffy, P. Diddy, to Diddy and âBrother Love.â Despite his penchant for reinvention Combs remained the perennial archetype commonly associated with the degeneracy rap music has now become synonymous with. Simply put, he reinforced many of the negative stereotypes associated with black âculture.â He not only reinforced the stereotypes, but also monetized and proliferated them as is the case with the bulk of what passes for black culture in urban entertainment.
To better understand his metamorphosis from âhype manâ dancing in shiny suits in music videos and party promoter, to indicted sex trafficker, we must examine his childhood and upbringing. His father, Melvin Combs dealt drugs in Harlem and was murdered when Sean was only 2 years old. He was raised by a single mom in Westchester County, a well to do suburb just North of the Bronx in New York. His mother Janice developed an unnaturally close emotional bond with her son. Their relationship has always come off as more âBFFâ or worse, rather than custodial. That sort of emotional co-dependency between parent and a child of the opposite sex screams Oedipus Complex. Perhaps, Janice Combs being his primary influence can be credited for his flamboyant swag. It can be argued that no one in urban music has had a bigger impact on the genre some claim embodies black âcultureâ than Combs. He incorporated a lifestyle glorified by television shows like âLifestyles of the Rich and Famousâ into what was a rugged, gritty artform. His flamboyance caused rap to be more acceptable in the mainstream to a whiter, more affluent audience. One, far more sexually fluid than the lyrically homophobic world of early rap. Combs simply picked up where Disco left off.
In the 70âs before recorded rap, the DJ was the star and received top billing. Groups like Grand Master Flash and the Furious 5, Grand Wizard Theodore and the Fantastic Five or Kool Herc and the Herculoids come to mind. Revelers attended block parties or âpark jamsâ to see the DJ flex his prowess as he âcut and scratchedâ vinyl records or battled other DJâs. Cutting and scratching are the means by which DJâs manipulated and extended the breakdown in songs that typically highlighted minimalist percussion and/or bass lines. The technique foreshadowed âsamplingâ and âloopingâ which was unique to rap producers,many of whom were former DJâs. The role of the rappers or MCâs (Master of Ceremony) as they were called was secondary. They were essentially the âhype menâ for the DJâs and served to entertain the crowds in between the DJâs set. Back then the music was made by kids, for kids not by people who had to wait for adulthood to be the cool kids they never were. This changed in 1979 when âRapperâs Delight,â by The Sugar Hill Gang became the first rap song on radio. The song eventually cracked the Top 40 on the Pop Charts. Commercialization sounded the death knell for the rap DJ. Radio prioritized the lyrics, and as a result the DJâs were relegated to prop status at rap shows. Keep in mind, this all coincided with the timely launch of MTV in 1981. MTV was a music video television network â first of its kind. Videos allowed fans of music to âeatâ with both, their eyes and ears. This further perpetuated the diminishing value of DJâs that began with radio play. In many ways, music videos made the genre more about lifestyle than sound. It can be argued that without captivating visuals people like Sean Combs would not have many fans. Rap was like âmanna from Heavenâ for marketing companies as it drove consumerism and consumption. The music was utilized to sell everything. If corporate America wanted to sell a product or sway public interest it was as simple as hiring rappers as frontmen or pitchmen. One need only research Jay-Zâs role in bringing the New Jersey Nets to Brooklyn, and 50 Centâs role in the sale of Vitamin Water involving billions of dollars. If you had something to sell rappers could get it sold and no one in the rap world sold like Sean âPuffyâ Combs.
After years at the entry level of the music business Combs finally got his big break in 1993 when he connected with Jewish music executive, Clive Davis. Davis was the boss at Arista Records and he did a joint venture deal that very year with Combs and his Bad Boy label. Through Arista, Combs secured a budget, distribution and more. The Jewish/Black tandem is a time-tested constant in Arts & Entertainment. Davis also became a mentor to Combs because he would surely need a âRabbiâ of some nature in the rooms he now had access to.
From the launch of Bad Boy there was ample speculation regarding how Combs acquired his joint business venture from Davis. The rumors were fueled by unfounded allegations against Combs involving his dealings with male staff and talent in particular. It brings to mind the saying that you can tell what a man has been through by what heâs capable of doing to others. The salacious gossip was somewhat revisited in 2013 when Clive Davis released his Memoir, âThe Soundtrack of My Life.â The twice married octogenarian, father of four decided it was time to come âout of the closet.â In entertainment the âclosetâ is said to be quite spacious. As liberal and âgay friendlyâ as the music business is, itâs very surprising men like Davis insist on leading a double life at all. Itâs as though, if everyone came out of the closet it could appear that all of the âmovers and shakersâ were âsexually liberated.â To avoid that very perception discretion may be necessary. Eager and desperate young men with no strong father figure in their life are easily seduced into âFaustianâ arrangements with power brokers devoid of scruples.
Aside from his Joint Venture with Arista, Combs launched his signature clothing line, âSean John,â which received a hefty cash infusion of $100,000,000 from Billionaire Ron Burkle back in 2003. Combsâ career can be summed up by the familiar adage, âitâs not what you know, but who you know.â Throughout the years he consistently demonstrated an uncanny ability for gaining access to the right people who could take him to the next level. Seemingly, his trajectory was carefully guided with specific purpose and intent far beyond the veneer of opulence his image was crafted on. In 2007 Combs entered into a lucrative promotion and marketing deal with alcohol beverage company, Diageo, for its vodka line, Ciroc. Six years later in 2013 Combs added Revolt TV to his resume of business achievements. His portfolio was impressive and second to none in the rap industry. Not content with merely pitching products and trendsetting Combs founded a political service group called âCitizen Change,â best known for its slogan âVote or Die.â This was not a non-partisan organization but rather a Democratic party recruiter of young people and minorities as evidenced by Combsâ proclamation at the 2008 BET Awards, âObama or Die.â By 2014 Forbes Magazine listed Combsâ net worth at $758,000,000 placing him at the doorstep of the billionaireâs club. With such a hot hand, surely nothing could go wrong.
The proverbial clock struck âtwelveâ for Sean Combs, or as he referred to himself, âDiddy.â On November 16, 2023. Attorneys for Cassie Ventura, a former Bad Boy recording artist romantically linked to Combs, filed a lengthy civil complaint in the Southern District of New York. Ventura often accompanied Combs to industry functions and was the most visible of his love interests. The filing alleged rape and graphic physical abuse perpetrated by Combs against Ventura while simultaneously implicating him in violence towards romantic rivals. As shocking as the allegations were, the public filing couldâve been avoided had prior attempts to settle not been ignored. In what can only be described as extreme arrogance, or deliberate self-sabotage, âPandoraâs Boxâ had been opened and Combs settled the next day. The man now publicly known as Diddy became somewhat of a media fixation, and pariah as lawsuits mounted and criminal cases were being prepared. Consequently, he was also implicated in alleged human trafficking and bizarre sexual rituals.
Raids on his homes yielding copious quantities of baby oil infused with Rohypnol or GHB â known as the date rape drug. Moreover, CNN reported tunnels connecting his California home to the infamous Playboy Mansion. (CNN later retracted.) The FBI was reportedly searching for evidence of voluminous sex tapes made with hidden cameras, said to involve a wide array of high-profile individuals. There was speculation Diddy ran a high-level blackmail operation. This provoked comparisons between he and Jeffrey Epstein, the now deceased human trafficker also known for recording influential people in compromising situations. Rumored to be on Diddyâs sex tapes are a âwhoâs whoâ of sports, Hollywood, politics and the business world. The depraved sex acts recorded follow the modus operandi for âhoney trapâ schemes used by intelligence agencies to blackmail prominent figures. The reported bacchanal was so excessive it also seemed ritualistic as is normally the case. After all, Epstein who is alleged to have had contact with the FBI, CIA and Mossad maintained a temple on his private island with locks on the outside and a purported incinerator on the inside. This may sound far-fetched to the average rap fan but occultic consideration should not be readily dismissed. Demonology and Satanism in rap are very prevalent as a bevy of artists from Kanye West to Lil Uzi Vert openly reference selling their soul in their lyrics, and simulate conjuring spirits in their music videos.
At the 2020 Clive Davis pre- Grammy gala Sean Combs accepted his Icon Award and had this to say, âWe have the power. We decide whatâs hot. If we donât go, nobody goes. If we donât support nobody supports. We control whatâs cool. We control whatâs hot. We control what your kids listen to⊠what they dance to. We control whatâs in video games. We control how they wear their pants, sag their pants. We control everything!â What Combs described is not a culture and far more than a business. He described a social engineering vehicle that cannot be left to its own devices. One that has the power to shape narratives and thoughts, elect presidents and sedate a sheeplike audience. This is absolutely how entertainment has been weaponized against society by those âbehind the curtain.â The very people rappers ominously refer to as the âilluminati.â They, who discard tools like Combs when theyâre finished with them.
Combs has been locked away at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, NY since September 16, 2024. His bail requests have been denied three times and he will remain incarcerated until his trial date scheduled for May 2025 unless his comparison to Jeffrey Epstein prove entirely too accurate. The passports of his children, even his toddler, and mother have been confiscated – presumably as some kind of âinsuranceâ for his silence since his children are not under indictment. Like many young men wanting to get rich or die trying, Sean Combs âdanced with the Devilâ only to be caught off guard when the âmusicâ finally stopped. Alas, the Devil wants his pound of flesh.
Curtis Scoon is the Editor-in-Chief of ScoonTv.com. Support independent media. Download the ScoonTv App and become a VIP subscriber. Join our weekly Livestream 8pm EST every Tuesday via the ScoonTv App exclusively.
