Summer Party
Rymill Park
Sat 12 Jan


It would be fair to say that there were two, quite disparate reasons for attending the inaugural Summer Party, and it was hard to gauge which was the more compelling. Of course, the band and DJs playing turned Rymill Park into a veritable Parklite for the afternoon. Then there was Vanilla Ice, who has struggled to be taken seriously for more years than he would care to remember, but who can nevertheless rely on novelty value to always pull him a halfway decent crowd. As it turned out, one of the best reasons to go was simply to enjoy a beautiful day in the park.

The promoters simply could not have asked for a better day on which to stage the event, glorious sunshine bathing the usual contingent of beautiful people without threatening to leave them too burnt after a day in the sun.

Promoted in part by Electric Circus, it made sense that One Love regulars Andy Murphy and Nick Foley made an appearance, though their mash-ups were soundtracking a crowd that was still arriving, before Van She showed what might have been if more live bands had played, their tracks a mix between loving Eighties homage and a knowing wink to the audience. That wink would become less and less apparent as the day continued, though when rumours started flying that Vanilla Ice wouldn't be making an appearance, the irony factor seemed about ready to depart. In fact, he'd just missed a plane, and would in fact be turning up after Kele from Bloc Party's DJ set, turning himself into the de facto headliner.

As it turned out, Kele would have made a pretty disappointing headliner, because though he appeared to have a blast onstage, it was painfully obvious that he had no idea how to mix tracks together or beat match, and after a few attempts left it to his crony to do that job for him. An interesting set that showed off some of his influences devolved into a procession of every recognisable dance tune from the past ten years (Hey Boy Hey Girl, Born Slippy, etc) and then an 80s retro set that the crowd nevertheless lapped up, the sense of irony disappearing entirely as those in attendance temporarily allowed themselves to get silly and have fun instead of trying to be desperately cool.

Vanilla Ice, on the other hand, forgot to have fun as he tried desperately to be cool. Looking not unlike Fred Durst with a backwards baseball cap and some questionable facial hair, he sounded like he'd just gargled with Ajax as screamed his way through the set with the aid of a drummer and DJ, both posturing as much as he was. Sounding a lot like a frustrated teenager, he paraded a slew of his new material, each track fairly predictably centred on how tough he was, and then tried to transform Ice, Ice Baby into a nu-metal anthem, also doing the same to Ninja Rap. The steadily departing crowd told the tale of their disappointment as his constant incitements to the crowd to make some noise so that the girls onstage would show some skin fell satisfyingly flat. It was something of a deflating end to what had been a fun day, but it would be rich to suggest that that's a new sensation for Vanilla Ice fans.

Alexis Buxton-Collins