Rain is always a production in New York — the air in train stations gets heavy and damp, commutes are laden with accidents, and evading the cascade of umbrellas becomes its own Olympic sport. On August 7, however, the energy was crackling with excitement. Ice Spice’s Y2K tour has hit her hometown with a new album, and almost all of the Bronx poured into Hell’s Kitchen to celebrate her homecoming.
The show was originally scheduled to take place at the Rooftop at Pier 17, where the scenic skyline views atop the East River would have given her debut an even more cinematic feel. While the weather nixed that plan, the team quickly brought the party to Terminal 5, where fans wrapped around the block in eager anticipation of the performance. New Yorkers from all walks of life spilled into the venue, not only expecting a great set from Ice Spice but excited for performances from longtime friend Cleo, producing partner Riot, and emerging Bronx icon Cash Cobain.
Internet conversations often provide a myopic view of New York filtered through viral moments and overstated stereotypes. Bodega this, Timberland boots that, chopped cheeses and influencer style moments — these are cheap gimmicks that dilute the potency of what really makes the city churn. Nearly two weeks ago, rapper, producer, and Drake attaché Lil Yachty went viral for dismissing New York’s style legacy. “I don’t think there’s shit goin’ on when it comes to New York fashion,” Yachty insisted to Cash Cobain, who appeared on his podcast platform, A Safe Space. “Soho is a different type of nigga … Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, those three boroughs are nothing like a Manhattan.”
Lost in Yachty’s train of thought is the realization that the New York style he fetishizes is built on the runways of the outer boroughs, where cultures interact and fuse their acquired sensibilities from the South, Latin America, the Caribbean, and the African continent into something unique. New York’s street influences were on display as fans waded into Terminal 5’s massive pit: grills, slicked-back hair, iridescent mesh, platform boots, peek-a-boo thongs, and patent-leather bustiers galore, all camera ready and excited to celebrate the city that built them alongside Fordham Road’s newest breakout starlet. Here, you’ll see just as many crisp white Air Force 1’s (affectionately referred to as “uptowns”) as you will frayed, worn-in shoes that define the contemporary LES style. It wasn’t just New York locals in the building, either. As I made my way through the dizzying three-floor structure of the building, two young fans excitedly told their neighbors that they drove from Canada that morning to see their favorite artist perform live.
Once Riot took to the boards for his DJ set, the energy in the venue skyrocketed. The Nuyorican producer ran through a gamut of New York classics, old and new — 41, Kyle Richh, and Jenn Carter’s “Bent”; Kay Flock’s unrelenting local hit “Is Ya Ready”; Pop Smoke’s “Foreigner”; Bobby Shmurda’s infectious classic “Hot Nigga” — to rave reactions. By the time he hit the mic and asked, “Who’s here from the Bronx?” the screams ricocheted across the room. It was a perfect warm-up before Cash Cobain came out with his patented sexy drill vibe.
Cash Cobain’s signature sound has dominated New York’s airspace this year. Parties, cookouts, and Uber rides have been inundated with his slinky, sultry melodies and hi-hat drum patterns. The leisurely BPM gives Cash Cobain and frequent collaborator Chow Lee the space to experiment with playful samples and cheeky wordplay to ecstatic reception from the audience. “My voice is gone for Ice Spice,” a guest next to me screamed hoarsely. She had been busy yelling along to Cash Cobain’s songs word for word: “Dunk Contest,” “Rump Punch,” the viral Don Tolliver and Charlie Wilson collaboration “Attitude,” and his arguable breakout single, “Fisherr.” The set was a lovely primer to New York’s new school of talent, and it was as much of a coming-out party for him as for Ice Spice. His planned Slizzyfest at Irving Plaza was shut down at the eleventh hour, and this moment is an overdue culmination of his accomplishments. “Yerrrrr,” he called out to the audience to a deafening reply.
In the lull after Cash Cobain left the stage, I shuffled around the concert. Fans were getting restless in the 25 minutes between his set and Ice Spice’s headlining performance, and a confusing mix of commercials played in the background, from the trailer to M. Night Shyamalan’s Trap to an advertisement for Lilly Lashes. “Where’s Ice Spice?” the crowd chanted in intermittent intervals. Parents sat on benches next to their teen children, eagerly awaiting the moment their kids’ favorite rapper would grace the venue; couples canoodled in quiet corners, ready to revel in the experience together. The anticipation crested, but it did not give way to frustration; vapes and joints were aplenty, with fans expressing more eagerness than irritation. A set-production team came to the stage to blow up a massive doll in Ice Spice’s likeness, which got the crowd buzzing.
At long last, their patience was rewarded and Ice Spice stepped out onstage, but not before a dizzying video intro that highlighted potent snippets inspired by the Y2K era: collages overlaid with dizzying neon WordArt fonts, piles of classic Nokia phones, MS-DOS command screens and Internet Explorer’s clunky original browser format led to a dizzying light show as Ice Spice slid onto the stage. While the crowd screamed, she opened with “Popa,” a standout track from Y2K that draws direct inspiration from Chief Keef’s heyday: enthralling bassline, staggered verse delivery, and devil-may-care demeanor. The work she has put into improving her stage performance since coming on the scene a few years ago is clear. Her moves were crisper; her engagement with the crowd was more organic and assured. “The Bronx is in the building!” she shouted, taking in the adoration from her fans.
With an album runtime of 23 minutes, I was curious how Ice Spice would be able to turn her discography into a headlining set, which would usually run for an hour. Her solution was simple — turn the set into a celebration of her hometown, ceding the space to artists she admired and listened to growing up. After performing two songs and introducing her dancers, the 24-year-old left the stage to light confusion from the audience, which quickly dissipated when Brooklyn drill legend Sleepy Hallow came into full view, rapping the viral “Deep End Freestyle.” Brooklyn rappers Sheff G and Fivio Foreign soon joined in, and as “Big Drip” radiated throughout the room, the second-floor balcony began to tremble. “This is for all my bitches that say ‘period’ after every sentence,” a crowd member yelled near me.
The palpable excitement would rev back up every time Ice Spice returned to the stage to run through a few more of her big hits and album cuts, lights strobing throughout the venue as her techno-futurist New York aesthetic graced her backdrop, shifting from glittering skyscrapers to looping tunnels. “Gimme The Light,” a single with a famous Sean Paul sample that was largely panned upon release, took on a new life in this milieu. With 1,500 fans looking on, the song transformed Ice Spice into the emcee narrating a classic early-aughts house party, with audience members wining and grinding on each other as she amped the crowd on. By the time PartyNextDoor, the lone non–New Yorker in the group, sneaked onstage in a Pelle Pelle jacket and began singing “Break from Toronto,” the ambience had spilled into a near frenzy, with fans shrieking along to every word.
While PartyNextDoor was arguably the biggest guest in attendance, the surprise who got the loudest crowd reaction was easily Bronx’s hometown hero A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie. He marched out while singing over local favorite “Look Back at It,” and fans seemed delirious in ecstasy, fervently singing along with the man responsible for many of their summer memories from the late 2010s.
The show was less a traditional headlining set for a tour as it was a celebration of New York culture. It was a statement of what the working class and outer boroughs of the city continue to generate in spite of being maligned for their impact on the city and the world. Culture has never left the concrete jungle, and Ice Spice used her marquee moment to highlight that to rave response from the city that supported her skyrocketing trajectory to near-instant stardom. While I look forward to the moment Ice Spice dominates a concert by taking the spotlight for herself, I can’t help but be charmed by the significance of the moment. It was a defiant showcase by New Yorkers, unapologetically for New Yorkers and whoever else who may be lucky enough to be included.
New York pride is many things — unrelenting, brash, and a bit obnoxious — but it is also borne out of fierce adoration for our ability to bring our own magic to every environment, no matter the circumstances. With 24 hours’ notice, Ice Spice successfully transformed her planned outdoor festival into a throbbing house party, preserving the energy that is long lost in the most viral celebrations of New York culture. It’s a moment that makes you puff your chest out a bit and remember why we are so proud to grow up here and never hesitate to shout where we’re from. “You from Harlem? Raised here?” A stunning young woman inquired as I photographed her; she was pleased when I confirmed affirmatively. “Exactly, — we’re still out here!” Ice Spice didn’t just come back home. She reminded her fans, and the world, that the city that built her deserves to be celebrated.
