There was a point, some point, at some time, where Diplo was cool. Whether that point was at his 2004 Ninja Tune debut or someplace during his tumultuous creative and personal relationship with M.I.A, it’s hard to pinpoint. But one thing is for certain, and it’s that point is not now. Not to discredit his merits (for there are many) but this day and age, amidst essential conversations around cultural authority and the usurping of Black pioneered styles and forms, is not the time to be putting out vapid and insipid interpolations of house music. Yet that’s what the majority of his self titled fourth album (and first full length solo in 18 years) spends doing, and it feels like a disservice to the work of artists like Honey Dijon who have spent the past few years bringing house back to its home.
Diplo is incredibly out of touch with the times. To self-title is in itself a statement of intent. An artist’s self-titled project is usually attributed to the body of work that most encapsulates their practice and point of view, a milestone or arrival that serves as a summation of their voice. Honestly, Diplo is not any of these things. Every track on the album sports a feature that’s either visibly high profile (Lil Yachty, Miguel) or a grab for some sort of left-field appeal (TSHA, WhoMadeWho), though most of the tracks are painfully empty. One of the album’s most glaring faults is the seeming lack of Diplo himself. While the producer has become somewhat chameleonic, stylistically evolving to match whoever he’s working with or for, there’s been an energy that’s synonymous with Diplo that somehow vanishes for most of his own album. The top half of Diplo is filled with trite piano house that sounds like the sort of royalty free music you might find on Canva these days, lacking the impishness that produced the mutant dancehall of Major Lazer or the obnoxiously sinful work of Jack Ü. Still, there are a few glimmers of hope. Waiting For You featuring Desire and co-produced by Seth Troxler is one of the album’s more interesting moments, simply by virtue of the fact that it’s one of the rare moments on Diplo that displays any sort of feeling. Wistful and melancholic, Waiting For You highlights the rest of Diplo’s lack of depth in a way that makes it obvious how paint-by-numbers the majority of the music here is. When the Diplo energy does appear though, it’s a relief. On My Mind with Sidepiece remains a highlight in Diplo’s recent catalogue, a near perfect piece of tech-house that feels authentic in its intent. Right 2 Left with Busta Rhymes is also one such moment, and its manic, fiery samba beat is a welcome break from the tired four-on-the-floors that fizzle across most of Diplo.
There was a time where Diplo was less concerned about chasing trends, and subsequently ended up setting them. The music on this album sounds like the result of a producer in a flatline, unsure of where to go next or rather, consumed by the fear of sounding irrelevant in the current landscape. It’s not entirely clear why Diplo made this sort of album. Even if it is an attempt to cash in on current dance music trends, it still fails at it. But while Diplo falls flat, it does call to question what it is exactly that we look for in the likes of Diplo and his brethren. The age of the celebrity DJ feels to be waning, and perhaps artists like Diplo have too long been guarded by stardom. Now that the focus shifts back to the music, why is it that we keep these artists in places of power, when there are others doing the work to push the culture forward?
Listen to Waiting For You (Ft. Desire) from Diplo below.
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