Gently mocking the British is somewhat of a favourite pastime. Varying from accusations of them adopting an Irish award-winning personality as their own, to playfully berating a mate who prefers to store their toaster inside a cupboard, or colloquially as referred to as ‘the press’. This unique form of humour is a result of enduring struggles, resilience and the process of reconciliation, also influenced by years of internet memes and cultural conflicts.
To offer some context, taking jabs at the Brits is a common leisure activity shared within my community. This hobby is taken to an extreme level by the rock group Kneecap hailing from west Belfast. Their bilingual verses criticising what they view as an unwarranted occupying force in the six counties has led to death threats from opposing faction in the North. However, they were received heartily in Galway, where I attended their performance at the Big Top during the Galway Arts Festival. Their Tricolour balaclavas were selling rapidly and there was this woman who had temporary “Brits Out” tattoos adorning her chest.
Before attending their first concert, I was unsure about the audience it would attract. Would it be predominantly a younger crowd, drawn towards the genre and its rebellious energy? Or would there be young adults like myself, carrying Irish-cultural influences and trying to keep up with current trends while enjoying the music in an open field? Or would it be a diverse mix, associated with the inherently eclectic crowd Galway attracts? I was also slightly worried about my own intentions and the potential of unknowingly perpetuating anti-British sentiment in a safe environment. Was it wise or even impressive to root for a band known for their aggressive rejection of the British with their attire, expressions and one of their popular tracks titled “Get Your Brits Out”? The answer is, unquestionably, yes.
Kneecap, the self-proclaimed ‘low-life scum’, could simply be dismissed as a band of controversial provocateurs given their history of bans from radio channels, social media, and events due to their contentious lyrics and hijinks. However, since their inception roughly seven to eight years ago, they have ascended beyond this chaos. They offer a clever take on social commentary and republicanism and often lean more towards satire rather than sectarianism. When not discussing universal social topics like drugs, mental health, and addiction, they aim criticism at the RUC, the PSNI, Arlene Foster, and the UK government, favouring a class-based viewpoint. Instead of derogating unionists and Protestants, they champion mass liberation for the working class. They are also staunch supporters of Palestinian freedom – earlier this year a Palestinian football jersey invisibly featured on the Late Late Show curtesied by DJ Próvaí’s tracksuit. Their gig at the Big Top in Galway saw a rich display of black, red, green, and white flags, along with a leading a ‘free Palestine’ chant from the stage.
One may ponder whether a middle-class millennial attending a Kneecap performance is simply role-playing at republicanism.
Clearly, their language use stands out. MCs Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara, along with DJ Próvaí of the trio, are fluent in both Irish and English, using both in their daily lives and in their music. Although they may speak other languages, they primarily use Irish and English, the official languages of Ireland, until they decide to introduce Italian rap into their repertoire. They strive to uplift the Irish language and shed its stereotype of being associated with “sitting about in pubs playing fiddles and discussing grammar”, as described by Mo Chara in a BBC discussion.
They are making significant strides to achieve this, having produced a film, featuring Michael Fassbender, that tells their story. This film has achieved success at Sundance and will be shown in Irish theatres next month. Following the footsteps of An Cailín Ciúin, Kneecap aims to amplify Irish culture on a global scale due to its inherent value not simply because it’s in the Irish language. These are exciting times for Irish talent, with recognition reaching unprecedented heights globally, contrary to the narrative propagated by extreme right ideologies that suggest it’s under assault. Kneecap embodies the diverse and multiplex nature of Ireland, making them apt ambassadors despite their unconventional approach that is far removed from the “Westlife key changes” and leans more towards the radical “West Belfast taking bumps of cocaine off a key”.