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Crunchy beats, drug chat, and righteous, coarse-mouthed anglophobia: these are Kneecap’s bread and butter. It’s only really been a matter of months since the anti-imperialist Irish rap trio (comprising Mo Chara, Móglaí Bap, and DJ Próvaí) shot to international fame – first gently, via an acclaimed comedy biopic, and then rapidly, thanks to a headline-making legal battle over terrorism charges – but already there is a sense that we know exactly what to expect. Fenian, the latest Kneecap album, delivers on all anticipated fronts. It’s an angry, irreverent, and bluntly political listen. And utterly frenetic to boot.
The legal charges against Mo Chara (real name Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh) – predicated on claims that he waved a Hezbollah flag onstage during a gig – were dismissed by a judge last year before the case made it to trial. “This entire process was never about me, never about any threat to the public and never about terrorism… it was always about Palestine,” the rapper said last month, when the government lost its appeal. Unsurprisingly, there’s been no changing course: on Fenian, the group are as full-throated in their support of Palestine as they are damning about Keir Starmer’s government.
“Liars Tale”, the album’s lead single, is the most caustic and memorable example of this, calling out the UK prime minister in the most un-minced of words. “Nah f*** Keir Starmer/ Netanyahu’s bitch and genocide armer/ Better off as compost for farmers,” they rap, over a thumping, synth-heavy beat. The critique keeps coming: “You’re just a Tory, dressed in Labour clothing/ Never seen a c*** so boring, with a resting face of loathing.”
DJ Próvaí, Móglaí Bap, and Mo Chara of ‘Kneecap’ (Tom Beard)
If you can believe it, Fenian does suggest a certain maturation on the trio’s part. And not just the musical side of things – though this too has evolved, with producer Dan Carey doing a good job of evoking and tweaking the group’s established mode of snappy, propulsive, hip-hop. But there’s a deepening of themes, an awareness of the power behind provocation. Thanks in part to the legal battle, Kneecap have become one of the music industry’s most visible figureheads of the pro-Palestine movement, and it’s not a responsibility they seem to take lightly. “Palestine” takes an appropriately sober tone to its exploration of solidarity between the Irish and those on the West Bank, bringing in Ramallah-based rapper Fawzi for a fluid guest verse (another language in the mix.)
Album closer “Irish Goodbye” is another venture into delicate tonal territory, addressing the death by suicide of Móglaí Bap’s mother in 2020. It’s a potent track, one that emphasises just how much range this group are capable of. Even when they’re rapping about substance abuse – fear not, Fenian has plenty of that too – there’s often a kind of jaded ambivalence that pushes it beyond some of their earlier work. “Cocaine Hill” is twitchy and unsettled, with haunting lead chorus vocals from Lankum’s Radie Peat that interpolate John Martyn’s 1967 song “Cocaine”. It’s a far shout from something like 2018’s (admittedly hilarious) “Your Sniffer Dogs Are S**te” – essentially an elevated novelty song.
Fenian is an immensely enjoyable record. Chara and Bap have a great natural sense of flow, able to syncopate phrases in a way to ensure the punchlines hit. At times, it feels like a throwback to a bygone era of hip-hop – both in the particulars of their rhythms and the production of the beats they work with. But it’s a throwback, too, exhuming not just the sound of classic rap but its raw political fury. At 14 tracks, it’s a touch long – but boring? Not for a second.