Before I worked in radio, I listened to the radio. And I look back with buzzing ears at some of what I heard. For instance, there was once an entity known as "Vanilla Ice" that performed cute, rhythmic "hip-pop" tunes about throwin' down nines, rollin' eight ball and the cuisine of the street that he was brought up in. What does this mean? Ask Robert Van Winkle, who ran around town, upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown.
While I was one of those people in the early 1990s that jumped on the bandwagon and will freely admit to listening to this, attempting to dissect just what he was saying and how to translate into something I understood (which didn't work), it was a bit after the "Ice" trend had melted. I seem to be fairly good at the sort of thing, getting in on something after its popularity has faded and therefore my copy of a copy of a copy of audiocassette was still getting unjust attention long after everyone else gve their copy away.
Ice pretty much became the proverbial punch line at this point, focusing on movies (Cool as Ice and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and the occasional album that would never seem to top his debut sales. I had all but forgotten him by the time I hit the radio station and his name seldom came up, though I wished we had a copy just to use as an intermittent gag. At one point we had a series of liners that announced "thirty minutes of today's music" that segued into about fifteen seconds of a song that was popular for all the wrong reasons and Vanilla's foray into the mainstream would have been more than a worthy candidate.
Actually there was one instance of Ice, Ice Baby that I do recall from my college days that was a bit disturbing. One of the last broadcasting classes seniors took was a pseudo-graduate level-like seminar where we discussed broadcasting topics of the day (like the forthcoming HDTV revolution) and into this one spring day I walked to hear a rather faithful acapella version of Ice, Ice Baby. Class had not yet started and two or three people were providing the Queen-esqe rhythm line, while others were trying in vain to sing along – wanting to sing but not wanting to prove the lyrics were on the tip of their tongues. I look back at this and laugh, having been a freshman and watching Coolio videos (see Slide, slide slippity slide, I do what I do just to survive) and being witness to an impromptu Vanilla Ice sing-a-long as a senior. I guess the rest of the classes in between weren't that exciting.
By the time I got to graduate school Vanilla Ice had made the bold move into some sort of rock/rap fusion thing with a wannabe thrash attitude and should-be trashed album called Hard to Swallow. I don't know what the kids at this other radio station were into, but I distinctly remember a number of people saying it "wasn't bad," and the album being in the control room. Nothing about the album stands out today, except I know I held it at least once, if only for the satisfaction of being able to say, 'I touched a Vanilla Ice album." Really now, who all can honestly say this? Also, I believe it was at some point at this time in his storied career that Vanilla began performing Ice, Ice Baby as this up-temp rock number, perhaps known as fans as the "hard" version. Maybe it was popular before this time – I don't know, I wasn't up on such things then, much less now – but it was hard to swallow for me. Does that make me an Ice purist?
My final comment about Vanilla occurred a year after I left graduate school and my role as station manager: he was in town for a concert. It must have been a sight to see: small backwoods town enthralled by big-name entertainer vs. surprised superstar depressed at the thought of how this gig is going to go over. From what little I read of the event, nobody in attendance gave him much chance with "new" material. What do you expect when you perform to college kids in a redneck bar? Drunken chants of "Ice, Ice, Baby, too cold, too cold" and people storming the stage – which must of ticked off ol' Rob.
So what have we learned in the fifteen-plus years since we went To the Extreme? Let me know.
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Ice Ice Baby
( Earthquake/Smooth, M./Vanilla Ice)
Vanilla Ice
From the album To the Extreme
1990
Yo, VIP, Let's kick it!
Ice Ice Baby, Ice Ice Baby
All right stop, Collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Then I flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop? Yo -- I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.
Dance, Bum rush the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly, when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, You better gain way
You better hit bull's eye, The kid don't play
If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in, the Vegas are pumpin'
Quick to the point, to the point no faking
I'm cooking MCs like a pound of bacon
Burning them if they're not quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi hat with a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll and it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby, Waving just to say Hi
Did you stop? No -- I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and I'm heading to the next block
That block was dead
Yo -- so I continued to A1A Beachfront Ave.
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous 'cause I'm out geting mine
Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because they're so full of "Eight Ball"
Gunshots ranged out like a bell
I grabbed my nine -- All I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper the avenue's packed
I'm trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene, You know what I mean
They passed me up, confronted all the dope fiends
If there was a problem, You, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Take heed, 'cause I'm a lyrical poet
Miami's on the scene just in case you didn't know it
My town, that created all the bass sound
Enough to shake and kick holes in the ground
'Cause my style's like a chemical spill
Feasible rhymes that you can vision and feel
Conducted and formed, This is a hell of a concept
We make it hype and you want to step with this
Shay plays on the fade, slice like a ninja
Cut like a razor blade so fast, Other DJs say, "damn"
If my rhyme was a drug, I'd sell it by the gram
Keep my composure when it's time to get loose
Magnetized by the mic while I kick my juice
If there was a problem, Yo -- I'll solve it!
Check out the hook while Deshay revolves it.
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Yo man -- Let's get out of here! Word to your mother!
Ice Ice Baby Too cold, Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold
Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold, Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold