West Hollywood Key Club


Hack. Sham. Poser. If these words have become synonymous with the name [a]Vanilla Ice[/a], tonight’s audience, the majority of which also qualify for wanker status, would denounce it as blasphemy.

When it comes to marketability, history can do an amazing job of repackaging itself; the disintegration of past prejudices like the smoke that now surrounds the new and improved Vanilla seems to attest to this theory. Where is the rad step haircut? The bitchin’, plaid pants? The ‘Ice Ice Baby’? Traits once inseparable from this man are replaced by an oversized t-shirt and shorts not far from Slim Shady territory.

Straight chillin’ somewhere on that overpopulated border between Rage Against The Machine and Limp Bizkit, Ice bursts into his third song about smoking weed, and its difficult not to see how comparisons to Eminem prove Mr. Mathers is worlds apart from this guy. And had Vanilla met up with Dr. Dre back in the day, the rendezvous would have most likely ended in a good beating for Ice.

Lack of street-cred never cramped Vanilla‘s, er, style, and he captivates all with a catchy little number about Attention Deficit Disorder, screaming inaudible words which sound something like ‘fuck’ and ‘decoupage’ to anyone who hasn’t invested a considerable amount of time memorising the lyrics. Sure, his subject matter has shifted from rolling in his 5.0 Mustang to something psychological in nature. But the bad-boy who was once worthy of even Madonna‘s impeccable taste in boyfriends is still on this very small stage, in this very small club tonight, announcing his soon to be released record ‘Scabs’ will feature appearances by Wu Tang, Public Enemy and Slipknot.

If he’s serious, credibility may no longer be a hurdle to rap’s first white multi-millionaire. So the Ice Man cometh and, at least in Vanilla‘s world, Eminem better watch his back.