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There’s a standout thought on Last Train to Paris, the most recent effort of eccentric millionaire Sean Combs, in which our lovestruck protagonist gets deep: “Let me take off my shades.” This insight dissolves any lingering goodwill we harbored for a mogul that put down the Ciroc and earnestly reached for sonic stars. Diddy sings, raps in mantras, and displays vulnerability behind the veil of an alter-ego pining for European lost love (it’s a concept album). He concurrently masterminds an accompanying iPhone app, raids the Biggie vaults for another posthumous street single, and indulges the rocker side of Lil Wayne. The project’s far-flung impulses mix poorly. Trey Songz, Chris Brown, Justin Timberlake, and others are enabling cohorts swimming in bottle service. On one track, Diddy’s mind floats over a silky piano line coughed up by master R&B songwriter Rodney “Darkchild” Jerkins: “Yo turn the piano up/This is the way love feels.” Basically, this is what work sparked by casting musicians for a short-lived reality series should sound like. Last Train to Paris has all the self-seriousness and excess of that moment in the video from the 1998 Godzilla soundtrack, in which Diddy is thrown from an elevator and animorphs into a flock of serene doves. He’s certainly a fair target for close reading. Diddy’s career is littered with breakthroughs beyond promoting Christopher Wallace. Surrounded by carefully curated, in-house talent like Ma$e, Black Rob, and The Lox, Diddy spearheaded 1997’s No Way Out, a posse classic bleeding with marquee anthems. 2006’s Press Play was a formulaic, celebrity-flavored affair with top-grade ghostwriters catapulting Diddy to jam after jam (for proof positive check the Cee-Lo-tinged, Nas-heavy, Kanye West-produced “Everything I Love”). Diddy produced the beats that revitalized Jay-Z on 2007’s excellent thematic retread, American Gangster, and recently Diddy’s been working with enigmatic cult rapper Jay Electronica. Last Train to Paris is a guest-heavy set of Euro dance and house-drenched songs. Usher, the most charismatic balladeer of this century, plays boastful sideman to Diddy’s hollow advances on “Looking for Love,” and both come off like jerks. “Someone to Love” spotlights Diddy’s lack of swagger and ability as a rapper (he rhymes “disgusted” with “my eyes crusted”). Certainly, some rewind-worthy successes emerge: “Yeah Yeah You Would” has a fantastic beat; Rick Ross’ guest verse on “Angel” is mammoth; torrent of enthusiasm from “Coming Home” channels the good vibes we all get from Diddy’s hyper-positive Twitter account; and Swizz Beatz’s repetitive imploring sticks on “Ass on the Floor.” Moreover, credit Diddy for the cool idea to cast nondescript R&B vocalists Kalenna Harper and Dawn Richards as recurring female foils. But the taste is mostly suspect.