Not many emcees dare steal the spotlight from Ice Cube, the man perhaps most responsible for bringing gangsta rap from the streets of South Central LA to radios around the world. It happened Saturday night, though, when Snoop Dogg surprised a sold-out House of Blues by joining Tha Dogg Pound for the second half of the group's hour-long opening set.
As Dogg Pound duo Kurupt and Daz Dillinger induced chants of "Snoooop Dogg, Snoooop Dogg" from the excited crowd, the lanky alpha Dogg strolled to the stage, picked up a mic and launched into his lazy droll. Though Kurupt and Daz succeeded as a duo on "New York, New York" and "Behind the Walls," the intensity in the room swelled palpably as Snoop worked through solo hits "Who Am I? (What's My Name?)" and "Drop it Like it's Hot" and "Bitches Ain't Shit," off Dr. Dre's The Chronic.
It was no real surprise, then, that Cube—on tour for the first time in six years—couldn't maintain the room's fever pitch. Still, the 36-year-old pioneer proved that starring in comic films Barbershop and Are We There Yet? hasn't softened his approach to rap. Working in tandem with longtime cohort WC, the bearded, black-attired Cube furiously spat out his lyrics, rarely granting his fans a glimpse of his toothy smile.
At times, the weighty approach had the desired effect, as when he called out his detractors early on: "I started this gangsta shit, and this the motherfucking thanks I get!" More often, though, the seriousness either seemed too put-on (a routine that saw WC coax an "angry" Cube back out after he stormed off) or too drawn out (the interminable "Fuck you, Ice Cube" call-and-response during "The Nigga Ya Love to Hate"). The night's West Coast theme—present onstage in the form of an inflatable "W" hand gesture and via the fingers of dozens of audience members—also felt forced, though LA visitors who cheered mightily at the "Lakers beat the Supersonics" line from Cube's "It Was a Good Day" certainly weren't complaining.
Truth be told, the most memorable aspect of the headlining set proved to be Snoop's presence, not as a collaborator but as an enthusiastic supporter. As Cube tore through an NWA medley that likely would have incensed Sheriff Bill Young, Snoop boogied at one side of the stage, singing along—mic-less—with every word as he reveled in the old-school gangsta classics.