A Monday night gig is usually a hard one to get excited about. And a cold November evening is hardly the ideal setting for a revolution (just ask Guy Fawkes and his mob), but on 24 November, undeterred, we headed to the Octagon Centre to witness probably the most culturally important band in generations.
Unintentionally part of an Octagon takeover from across the Irish Sea (more on CMAT’s rearranged Wednesday night show to follow), the first Kneecap night sold out quicker than a Tory can deny basic human rights, leading to the addition of a second date – and a very expectant, almost baying sell-out crowd on night one.
Everyone knows the story. We’re all in on it, and as we are the converted, there’s a celebratory feel mixed in – probably largely thanks to Kneecap’s recent assault on the nose of the establishment.
Despite this, they still face accusations of ‘performative radicalism’. Admittedly not the most concerning accusation they’ve faced recently, tonight once again proves that the idea they could be faking this for likes is an utter nonsense. They’re the real deal, and we’re reassured on this point by Aboriginal Australian rapper and force of nature in her own right, Miss Kaninna, who during her support slot declares: ‘They are the people you think they are.’ Which is, quite frankly, a relief.
So then, who are they? Well, in case you actually don’t know the story, they’re ostensibly a Belfast hip-hop trio at the forefront of the Irish-language rap scene, but culturally, politically and iconographically, they’re much, much more than that.
The band, no strangers to oppression in their own community, wear their sympathy for the plight of Palestinians on their collective sleeves and publicly speak out against genocide. In May this year, band member Mo Chara (real name Liam Og O hAnnaidh) faced terrorism-related charges for allegedly displaying a Hezbollah flag during a London show in November 2024.
The charges were eventually dropped, but not before huge swathes of support had flooded in for Chara and Kneecap, both online and at court appearances, rocketing them to national attention.
The lads acknowledge the irony of this situation through the tongue-in-cheek takedown It’s Been Ages, which tonight follows their intro track 3CAG, and the incredible graphics that punctuate the set all night. It’s a blistering start.
Before the intro, though, there’s an earnest message urging us all to ‘Speak up. Take action. Free Palestine.’ And while there are plenty of references to Palestine, the absurdity of their legal proceedings, and a general air of defiance and rebellion throughout the night, we’re not exactly preached to – because, I guess, what’s the point? We all chose to be here. We know the score.
There are also moments of brevity and humour. The whole crowd chanting ‘Your sniffer dogs are shite’ is undeniably funny. Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap teasing out Yorkshire chants and stoking the flames with cheeky digs about beating the establishment on their own soil – objectively funny. Wearing sunglasses on stage because of a stinking hangover, due to a 12-hour stint stuck in Fagan’s. We’ve all been there, pal.”
Musically, they’re on it. Big tunes like Better Way to Live, Get Your Brits Out and H.O.O.D. feel massive. Everyone is going mental and by the end, it’s not really a gig anymore. It’s ceased to be just a concert and is verging on activism.
The bond between crowd and band has rarely felt stronger – and the divide rarely smaller – than at a Kneecap show. And in a choice between them and the authorities trying to silence them, I know whose side I want to be on.
