9 hours ago
Kneecap in Fairview Park review: Defiant, considered and celebratory
Kneecap
Fairview Park, Dublin
★★★★★
Far from the gloomy halls of the Westminster Magistrates' Court,
Kneecap
arrive to
Fairview Park
defiant and full of energy. 'Quite the culture change' is how they describe their new surroundings.
Here, the trio are conductors, orchestrating their congregation skilfully and punctuating an explosive set with humour and powerful monologues. A phrase penned by American poet Toi Derricotte, and borrowed by punk outfit
Idles
, comes to mind: joy is an act of resistance.
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Fans rally behind Kneecap after London court appearance: 'If you're supporting Ireland, you're supporting Kneecap'
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]
Detractors fundamentally and deliberately misinterpret what Kneecap are doing. Even softer-sounding labels of 'controversial' and 'agitating' are forged to distract from a very simple, innocuous objective – drawing attention to
Israel's ongoing massacre of Palestinian people
, and to the political inaction, or participation, that renders western governments complicit in a genocide.
No one needed to be persuaded on Thursday in Fairview, but it doesn't diminish their importance.
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In north Dublin, the night holds the communal intensity of a football song. In lieu of scarves and match programmes, Tricolour balaclavas are hung up for sale on temporary fencing at the park's entrance. Inside the marquee, where temperatures run high, many peel the headgear back to cool their faces.
In an early monologue,
the court case
is addressed. Mo Chara (Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh), who has been charged with a terrorism offence in the UK over allegedly displaying a flag in support of Hizbullah at a gig last year, says that Kneecap have beaten the British government before and promises to do it again. It is a reference to
the group's successful legal challenge
in November over withheld arts funding.
Fans take selfies before the Kneecap concert in Dublin's Fairview Park on Thursday. Photograph: Chris Maddaloni
Later in the night, Mo Chara spends several considered minutes issuing a diatribe against the suffering of the Palestinian people. He acknowledges that the crowd here is in agreement with him, but pledges that 'until something changes, Kneecap will always use their platform'.
Amid the sombre moments, there is no deviation from the tenets of Kneecap's performance routine – riotous, pulsating tracks that alchemise everyone in attendance.
Fenian C***s and Your Sniffer Dogs Are S***e are early defibrillators. This is a rave that relies on participation, and pits open readily when ordered by those onstage. By the end of these bursts, the interludes work well as breathers. They even feature singalongs of The Auld Triangle and Dirty Old Town.
A poignant dedication is made to Conor Biddle, an acclaimed Irish lighting designer who died earlier this year. The moment best captures the celebratory blend of emotions that Kneecap foster, as they dedicate the next song, Sick in the Head, to their friend in the knowledge he would have appreciated the joke.
As the night winds to a close, the practised rhythm of the band's big finish becomes evident. DJ Próvaí forays beyond his mixing desk as Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap dovetail slick, emphatic vocals. Gone are the pauses, and the tent erupts for C.E.A.R.T.A., Get Your Brits Out, Parful and Hood.
In the niche of Irish language punk-rap, very few acts stand alongside Kneecap musically. The message and identity of their work, however, is mirrored by an array of their national contemporaries.
Explorative, parochial, socially conscious artists that echo the voices of young people around the country; this could describe
Fontaines DC
,
Lankum
,
CMAT
and many more. It is not an ethos to be feared.
