- Music
- 09 Aug 04
The founding father of gangsta rap had his heyday in the early 1990s when his albums went platinum, he was nominated for a Grammy and his explicit lyrics introduced "Parental Advisory"-stickers to CD collections across the world.
The founding father of gangsta rap had his heyday in the early 1990s when his albums went platinum, he was nominated for a Grammy and his explicit lyrics introduced "Parental Advisory"-stickers to CD collections across the world. More than ten years on, who wants to see this legend of sorts?
Well, all kinds, actually. The crowd is surprisingly eclectic. ICE T’s oft-derided fanbase of white, middle-class teenagers is in evidence tonight, only they aren’t teenagers anymore. They are united with disillusioned urban youth, slick RnB kids and some unlikely lager lads in anticipation of a gig that, let’s face it, could go either way – who knows what to expect from a 47-year old rapper who now makes his living as an actor and hasn’t shown his face around the charts in recent years?
But as soon as the man himself bounds on stage it becomes clear that this is going to be a memorable performance. I have rarely seen a more engaging, entertaining and enthusiastic performer and the crowd lap up every bit of it. He still cuts a pretty impressive, and slightly scary, figure. When that man tells you to put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air, you put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air!
He makes no attempts whatsoever to hide his age; in fact, he seems quite proud of his status as rap’s elder statesman and so he should be – his perfomance would put any 50 Cent to shame.
ICE T is evidently at ease and hence feels no need to play by the rules, instead opting for lengthy interplays with the audience, spraying the front rows with champagne, telling smutty jokes and bringing his busty blonde girlfriend on stage.
The strangest stunt he pulls is an impromptu Pop Idol-style rhyming competition, at which all but one of five wannabe-MC Dubs fail miserably. The winner, however, gets a hug from the main man, is plied with champagne and whisked off backstage with the crew, no doubt to help them finish off those enormous buckets of KFC they had brought in.
He is no doubt going to have the night of his life. The rest of us, well, we got pretty close.