Seeing a room full of teenagers, some as young as 14, screaming their lungs out to a version of Aqua’s 1997 track Barbie Girl in 2024 is a surreal experience no one could have predicted a few years ago. But not many artists embody the unpredictable world of contemporary music more than Ice Spice. After appearing from seemingly nowhere and going viral with her track Munch (Feelin’ U) in 2022, the Bronx rapper went stratospheric and was quickly being declared “rap’s new princess” before collaborating with Nicki Minaj on the Barbie soundtrack.
Merging drill, hip-hop, and Jersey club music with a pop sheen – a “rap bitch on a pop chart” in her own words – Spice’s tracks never break the three-minute mark and so within 10 minutes she’s rattled through a bunch: from the bass heavy gurgles of Princess Diana to the melodic synth loops of Phatt Butt, the rapper letting rip some of her most animated and tight flows on the latter.
Spice’s near-constant twerking gets audience squeals, as a cohort of dancers move gracefully and powerfully around her, while the DJ fires off air horn and broken glass sound effects with almost comical regularity. The venue isn’t full at all but it pops off regardless, with giddily high octane pace and energy from artist and audience.
In the end she performs 21 tracks in just 45 minutes. This rapid-fire approach is impressively succinct, allowing pop hooks and booming beats to fizz and bubble before quickly settling down and disappearing – but it can also feel slightly bitty and restless. However, the final run offers up some pleasing variety and range: there’s a thunderous Did It First, the slowed down yet slick Fisherrr, and the squelchy bounce of closer Think U the Shit (Fart).
The visual backdrop for the evening is all Internet Explorer pages, Nokia phones and Tamagotchis in line with her album title Y2K, but Spice’s musical approach feels distinctly more modern. It’s less like a prolonged game of Snake on a black and white screen, and more like a frantic scroll through endless Technicolor content until you have 90s Eurodance hits and flatulent rap anthems blurring into one.
Source: theguardian.com
