The Weekly Coos

As I ended my review for Ice Spice’s Like…EP, I noted how I left some lingering hope that there’d be room for improvement; I was unfortunately wrong… oh so wrong. Y2K! is her debut album, and it comes and goes as one would expect an Ice Spice album to go, particularly its length. Clocking in at 23 minutes, it breezes by without leaving an ounce of memorability beyond the memeification in her writing, like the trend of bringing up butt-related bars and not the fun kind (poop). However, it’s more than just that. Ice Spice herself comes and goes, making the listener feel like you’ve wasted your time with how uncreative she is and how her features outshine her with ease. Her flows are redundant and just coast without offering much to the imagination. The production is predominately tiring, weaving simplistic drill-centric drums beneath hollowness. Y2K! has no redeemable quality, and it goes to show why the label has been trying to push her out there with interviews and limited edition metro cards—in a time where your credit or debit card can be that—it’s just not a good album; though I feel it will have its fans.

“Phat Butt” opens Y2K!, and it contains some of Ice Spice’s best writing, but the song doesn’t eclipse past it. The production is a mere rubbish drill beat that does little to move the needle; it keeps going with the following tracks as it all homogenizes itself into one unconscious flow of thought that feels stuck with monotonous writing and flexing. It leaves you thinking that Ice Spice is really riding the coattails of virality, hoping to keep striking until something comes about. It made taking the time to digest the album even more grueling because a part of me feels that there is more, but the trends in Hip-Hop don’t allow one to track pop status without delivering content worth caring about. I was left wondering what could be if she wasn’t using the same reasons to flex, like her ass, which is understandable within the context of this brand of Hip-Hop, but it’s half the quality of what Nicki Minaj would deliver. Whereas Minaj would input it in as a reason instead of a focus, it adds more depth; also, the bar constructions are more clever.

Ice Spice’s writing is predominately as hollow as the beats she raps over, and even when she tries to bring some dimension by getting personal, it lands just as flat. It’s why “Did it First” whiffs instantly; in the track, Ice Spice and Central Cee rap about getting cheated on and doing the cheating respectfully. There is little sizzle, and the latter’s verse, though solid, just comes off as distasteful, while Ice Spice’s toxicity is too one-dimensional. “BB Belt” is a simple hollow flex track that is redundant. “Think U The Shit (Fart)” bolsters a lot of superficiality and little about why she feels that way, unlike her contemporaries who have shown to add some sizzle instead of making it all about money and bodily appearance. “Popa” feels like a knockoff, a so-called homage to Nicki Minaj, but tries too hard to be her. “Gimmie A Light” samples Sean Paul’s “Gimme The Light,” using the chorus as a sample to transition into a chorus about weed smoking and then flexing/self-validation against the haters who say she can’t write. There is nothing here to even care for, even if there is this excellent verse by Travis Scott that ends up feeling wasted.

Ice Spice’s primary producer, RIOTUSA, has given her quality beats before, but on this, it’s just threading a familiar throughline where it lacks the essence of space. Tracks come and go swiftly, making the 23 minutes feel like 15, and it makes the braggadocio elements feel lackluster. When it’s all said and done, you get left with worse than mediocrity, grasping at the straws and letting you flow with the rhythm. Unfortunately, you can’t, and maybe it’s me who doesn’t see it because the template is there, but the delivery is weak. I’m left lamenting on how the traction will be and how Ice Spice’s sustainability will last because each of these songs is looking for viral moments, even if it’s Central Cee’s ex-girlfriend coming out and proving that he does what he rapped about, aka cheating. It could also come from the number of times she used poop bars, like with “BB Belt,” which got a bulk of attention online. It’s an album that asks little of the listener and doesn’t reward them. I know I’m being predominately negative, but that’s how I felt about the album; it was meaningless dribble.