The Cúpla Focal

KNEECAP and the Irish language

I was late to KNEECAP, the hip hop trio from Northern Ireland who rap in both Irish and English. In February, the three men appeared on the Late Late Show and in direct defiance of RTÉ guidelines, wore pro-Palestinian badges and a Palestinian jersey, saying that “ I think we just have to use this platform as an opportunity to appeal to Irish people to attend the rallies and protests and to support the BDS movement, and to show solidarity to Palestine and hopefully one day Palestine will be free.”

It takes guts to go rogue on the country’s biggest chat show, especially when it’s live television, so I decided to check them out on Spotify. That was five months ago and I genuinely don’t think a day has gone by since that I haven’t listened to them. It’s not just that the music is political and provocative and clever, with a huge amount of humour to it, but the songs are fucking bangers too. I now have two tests before agreeing to go on a date with an English man – 1) does he include the international area code when giving me his number because, you know, Ireland is a different country, and 2) what is his reaction when I tell him KNEECAP are my favourite band. If he can listen to Get Your Brits Out without flinching, I know we can hang.

I was in Galway this week for the Arts Festival. I went to see Reunion, the new Mark O’Rowe play (very much recommend), I danced up Shop Street as part of a silent disco with my childhood best friend and her four small children, and I went to KNEECAP at the Big Top. Whatever you think about their politics, there was something profoundly moving about listening to a crowd of three and a half thousand people sing back to the band in English and Irish. When I was in Paris, I would compliment men I went on dates with on their excellent English and they would invariably tell me it was due to the culture they consumed as teenagers, music and TV and