Support on the High Rollers tour came from Detroit collective D12

When I heard that The Game had been forced to withdraw from the Birmingham Resorts World Arena date of the High Rollers tour on Wednesday, December 6, I didn’t feel particularly put out. The West Coast rapper was being replaced in his opening spot by Detroit collective D12 and I knew that, even without Eminem there to do his part, I’d still enjoy a warm-up dance to the Dirty Dozen before Cypress Hill and Ice Cube hit the stage.

And boy, did I need a warm-up. D12 dutifully represented Marshall Mathers with tracks like Lose Yourself and Under the Influence and spat favourites like My Band and Purple Pills, all while wearing D12-branded gear and shouting out their Instagram handles to make sure they were grasping the opportunity to connect with new fans on the tour they were never meant to be on.

It was wicked fun and good to see Proof’s son Nasaan there to continue his late dad’s legacy. My heart was pumping by the time Cypress Hill took to the stage and it almost exploded out of my chest when they came out swinging for a Greatest Hits masterclass.

Truth be told, I was there for Ice Cube. And yet as DJ Lord commanded the turntables with such exquisite skill, giving us a little Metallica before sonically intertwining with Eric ‘Bobo’ Correa as he circled his way around a complex percussion section, the rhythmic rattling of my ribcage alone had me sure this would be one of the greatest hip hop sets I would ever see.

And then, to eliminate any doubt, Sen Dog and the inimitable B-Real came out blazing, in many senses of the word, to make the delivery of 35 years of total bangers look easy. Naturally, the group known for (let’s call it horticulture?) horticulture ran through tracks about that very thing, each holding a (let’s call it sage?) stick of sage and purifying the stage.

By the time they got to Dr Greenthumb, we were (oh, sod it) caught up in their miasma of marijuana and the wavey graphics on the screen added to a sense of inebriation. And yet the rappers didn’t miss a beat or a bar, taking the crowd up, up and up with bangers like When the S*** Goes Down, Hits From The Bong, Rock Superstar and Insane In The Brain.

If we thought that was that, we were wrong. The group, who had effortlessly kept the crowd moving, with added “my side is louder” cameraderie to whip us to critical mass, commanded their audience to get down on the floor, squatting low, ready to leap when the beat dropped.

I’ve been to enough Slipknot shows in my life to know how it goes. Around me, fans dropped, from the two teenage girls who had been recording TikToks before the show to those who must have been there for the birth and boom of West Coast hip hop.

Leaping up to a frenzied climax of House of Pain’s Jump Around, I had a moment of realisation: Ice Cube was going to have to follow this. It’s a good job he’s an icon.

The precursor to his arrival had been loads and loads and LOADS of photos of the rapper. Sometimes with NWA, but mostly on his own. Different pieces of art showing his image over the years (which is largely unchanged with age, it has to be said), including his time on sets of movies like Friday.

The appearance of the real deal was much more subdued than I’d anticipated. I’d envisaged him bursting into view, some big curtain drop or fanfare to remind us that we were in the presence of rap royalty. And yet, he trickled on to the stage like lava, slow and steady, but no less deadly and filled with inextinguishable fire.

It made sense, in a way, that he opened with What Is A Pyroclastic Flow. The screen was ablaze with graphics and yet, on the stage itself, things were minimal. There weren’t a dozen hype men from his entourage, huge drum sets or live musicians. We were getting Ice Cube in his simplest form, no gimmicks.

He didn’t stay alone for long. He was joined by WC and together, they stitched together tracks from across Cube’s long career. Highlights came in the form of Natural Born Killaz, a four song run of classics culminating in What Can I Do and Until We Rich, a track he dedicated to Krayzie Bone.

Things really took an upward turn when Cube delivered Why We Thugs and the lift kept going up for Ghetto Bird before that “OG Ice Cube NWA s***” came into play. I was chuffed.

“If we do this, you’re all witnesses…” Cube said. “Don’t snitch on me.”

Straight Outta Compton was unreal to hear live and something I never thought I would. I know it’s not the same as it was, but as one of the leading creative forces of gangsta rap, if anyone is going to represent the movement, Ice Cube has earned the right. Gangsta Gangsta came hot on it’s heels.

WC led us in a “thank you for NWA, Ice Cube” celebration and then the rapper gave us a brief talk about how he’d loved being a part of it and that he had love for Ren, Yella, Dr Dre, Eazy-E and the DOC. And yet still he gave us a rendition of No Vaseline along with a big pat on his own back for the creation of ‘the greatest diss track ever written’. God damn, he’s ruthless.

We shook off any shadow of historic, long-squashed beef with Ain’t Got No Haters, put our backs into You Can Do it and celebrated with the finale of Today Was A Good Day. No faux goodbyes, no encores, no gimmicks, just Ice Cube, reminding us why he’s one of the greatest to ever do it.