OPINION - Kneecap are pulling the oldest punk trick in the book: offending you. And it's worked.

Yahoo

8 hours ago

It's been a while since we've had a musical ruckus on the scale of Kneecap-gate. Forget boring arguments about feuds (hello Taylor Swift) or fallings out: today, the Irish band have rocked up at Westminster Magistrates' Court, accompanied by throngs of supporters, in support of band member Mo Charah (real name Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh).
Ó hAnnaidh stands accused of allegedly waving a Hezbollah flag at a gig back in 2023, and leading the crowd in chants of 'Up Hamas, up Hezbollah.' The band themselves remain adamant that the charge (made under UK terrorism laws) is an attempt to gag them about their outspoken support for Palestine and Gaza.
And as the media circus starts up again, I'm struggling to understand why the British establishment has picked now of all times to clutch their pearls when there are so many other things going on in the world that deserve more of our attention.
They should also be wise to Kneecap's strategy: wise enough not to take the bait being dangled before them by the various outrageous things the band has said. Because it isn't new. In fact, it's very familiar indeed. It's pure punk spirit.
Think about the 1970s, when Vivienne Westwood was still an upstart fashion designer and the Sex Pistols were running riot across London. At the time, the older generations hated them, but their outrageous, mould-breaking behaviour created a legacy that still felt today.
The art of the good punk band is a simple one: disrupt
The art of the good punk band is a simple one: disrupt. No amount of spiked dog-collar necklaces mean a thing unless you're being genuinely provocative and shocking. That's the point of punk. It's a counterculture movement.
Hence we had Johnny Rotten and co. swearing live on the Bill Grundy Show and the Pistols' release of God Save The Queen being banned from the BBC due to 'gross bad taste.' Or Fear playing Saturday Night Live in 1981 – and unintentionally inciting a riot that cost tens of thousands in damages.
As time has dragged on and the music industry has become more sanitised, we've forgotten that bands like those exist. We've forgotten how to be shocked. We've forgotten too that bands like those have a valuable role to play in challenging our expectations and championing underrepresented voices.
Kneecap are a welcome reminder of that. They hail from Belfast, speak Irish Gaelic and regularly call for Northern Ireland to rejoin the Republic – as well as championing the cause of Palestinians, who are currently being bombed from the skies in Gaza.
Before the keyboard warriors come for me, I'm not saying that the crime that Ó hAnnaidh is accused of, or the band's behaviour at a previous gig, is excusable.
Ó hAnnaidh has pleaded not guilty to the charge, but the amount of media furore around it does smack of a kind of performative pearl clutching that is slightly queasy to watch. Today's cancel culture heavy ethos invites people to jump headfirst into outrage without thinking about it first, often for fear of being cancelled themselves. Hence politicians blindly following where public outcry led, even calling for Kneecap to be dropped from Glastonbury after counter-terrorism police announced they were investigating the band.
Maybe we should remember that being offended, once in a while, isn't a bad thing
Modern social media has turbocharged the conversation around this case and changed it from a simple question, which should be left for the court, and only the court – did Ó hAnnaidh break the law? – to a trial in the court of public opinion, damning Kneecap for daring to speak out about things they feel strongly about, and punishing them for challenging the state's line on Israel and Gaza.
Maybe we should remember that being offended, once in a while, isn't a bad thing. Love Kneecap or hate them, their opinions should still be heard – even if you happen to disagree.
In fact, especially if you disagree. And if they go around upsetting people in an attempt to get their point across, well – they're just being punk.
Vicky Jessop is a culture and lifestyle writer