The gangsta rapper-turned-film star took the O2 Arena’s crowd of middle-aged hip hop fans back in time to relive their rebellious youth

“London, can we keep it gangsta tonight?” veteran rapper Ice Cube yelled into the darkness of the O2 Arena. Well, up to a point. The roar that came back from the London crowd sounded more indulgently amused than blood-curdling, the warm sound of middle-aged hip hop fans reliving their rebellious youth.

Gangsta rap was once the most controversial pop music on earth, accused of (to quote from Wikipedia) “promoting disorderly conduct and broad criminality, especially assault, homicide, and drug dealing”. Ice Cube’s controversial 1980s Los Angeles group N.W.A was denounced by politicians and directly led to ‘Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics’ stickers becoming standardised as a form of musical censorship. Yet 35 years on from the release of incendiary debut, Straight Outta Compton, his burn-down-the-ghetto rhetoric has become the stuff of party anthems, bellowed enthusiastically by an audience who have come straight outta North Greenwich Tube station. Such, I suppose, is the progress of all once transgressive culture, softened by age, time and the warming effect of nostalgia.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the star teased the audience. “Can Ice Cube still get on the mic and do what you like?” Since his early years of articulate, political and provocative rapping, 54-year-old O’Shea Jackson has become a movie star, screenwriter and producer, as well as the co-founder of an American basketball league. His last album, Everythang’s Corrupt was in 2018, and he hasn’t toured the UK in over a decade.

The stocky star, prowling the stage rapping to pre-recorded backing tracks, was accompanied only by a sidekick with the unfortunate rap initials of WC. “I like to be a real MC,” was Cube’s excuse for the low rent production. “No dancers, no pyro, no fake s—.” Fortunately, the movie star charisma and fiercely focused delivery was enough to hold attention as he growled and snapped over beats so heavy you could feel the sub bass rattling inside your bones. “I’m raw as a dirty needle / Choke an eagle / Just to feed my people / Lyrically I’m so lethal / Plant thoughts in they mind just to defeat you,” he snarled on a pummelling Gangsta Rap Made Me Do It, whilst the crowd chanted the chorus.

There was, it is worth reporting, no visible police presence. Evidently, gangsta rap is no longer considered a danger to public order. The moral panic has moved on to grime and drill music, and those who appreciate the genre’s blend of heavy beats and intense lyricism could just enjoy themselves in the hands of a master.

Albeit if anyone had seen fit to try and enforce the ban on smoking in public spaces they would certainly have had their hands full. Clouds of suspiciously pungent blue smoke floated above the crowd, whilst veteran stoner rap support act Cypress Hill smoked roll-ups onstage and extolled the virtues of getting high on 1990s party smashes including Hits From the Bong and Insane in the Brain. They were fantastic, the Cuban-American sibling duo of Sen Dog and B-Real bouncing off the brilliant live mixing of “turntablist” DJ Lord, his hyperactive scratching interweaving with the brilliant playing of former Beastie Boys percussionist Eric Bobo. A very drilled live ensemble, their energy and dynamism made Ice Cube’s more basic set up sound one-dimensional by contrast.

But, significantly, the star rapper had the hits and history that had meant so much to this vintage hip hop audience back in their lost youths, and the fierce intent with which he romped through tracks that helped shape the sound of our times was impressive. At times it was a bit cheesy, with theatrically scripted interludes and a pantomime quality of humorously revelling in past dramas, but the middle-aged, multi-racial London crowd were clearly delighted, grinning, dancing, cheering and roaring along to classic hits including Check Yo Self, It’s Been A Good Day, Natural Born Killaz and NWA’s riotous Gangsta Gangsta. Before, presumably, dashing home to relieve the babysitters.