Two years after crashing into pop stardom with an all-timer of a kiss-off in “Munch (Feelin’ U),” Ice Spice has finally delivered her debut album: the young Bronx rapper’s long-awaited opportunity, we’re meant to understand, to prove she’s more than just a viral hitmaker.
Eh, why bother?
That’s the nonchalant vibe — and the not-inconsiderable appeal — of “Y2K!,” on which Ice Spice spends all of 23 minutes shrugging through 10 songs about sex, competition and the cold calculus of infidelity: “If he’s cheating I’m doing him worse,” she reasons. “I don’t care ’cause he did it first.”
An instant addition to the long line of great New York City voices, Ice Spice arrived in 2022 with a blasé attitude perfectly suited to TikTok’s bite-sized presentation. Since then she’s reached the top 5 with PinkPantheress, gone to “Barbie World” with Nicki Minaj, scooped up four Grammy nods and made a bestie of no less than Taylor Swift. (She even shot a Dunkin’ Donuts commercial with Ben Affleck.) Yet she still sounds entirely unimpressed on “Y2K!,” as though global celebrity has turned out to be — sigh — one more irritation.
“Everybody be knowing my name,” she notes in “BB Belt.” “Just want the money, I don’t want the fame.”
What makes this approach work is the way she plays her low, talky flow against her producer RiotUSA’s beats, which can be icy and menacing (as in “Oh Shhh…” and “BB Belt”) or chipper and sprightly (as in “Think U the S— [Fart]” and “Did It First”). His vivid production is rooted in drill but pulls in traces of trap and Jersey club; together he and Ice Spice know how to turn an offhand phrase — “Fat butt, pull my pants up” is one of them — into a deviously catchy hook, then how to turn that hook into a kind of low-boil mantra.
In addition to Central Cee, Travis Scott and Gunna put in guest appearances on “Y2K!,” whose title nods to Ice Spice’s birth date of Jan. 1, 2000. They’re both fine, though each rapper’s bleary mumbling tends to fade into the background behind Ice Spice’s crisp displeasure.
Does “Y2K!” ultimately feel a bit slight for how long it’s taken to materialize? Sure. Yet the album’s throwaway quality is actually pretty refreshing in a year long on elaborately conceived pop extravaganzas such as Beyoncé’s “Cowboy Carter” and Swift’s “The Tortured Poets Department.” Unlike her pal with the long trail of vexing exes, Ice Spice bears no discernible burden in these sneering little ditties. She’s floating on indifference.