It is impossible to remove politics from the music of Kneecap. But unlike many other political bands, the Irish hip-hop trio knows how to have a good time while spreading their message. Their new album, Fenian, continues to take aim at the same targets that have previously landed the group in hot water—including Israel and various authoritarian regimes—demonstrating that the Belfast trio has refused to tone down its rhetoric, even after the cancellation of a 2025 North American tour and backlash following British Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s criticism of their Glastonbury appearance.
Rather than wallowing in anger, Fenian doubles down on the fun factor, even when delivering biting lyrics such as “Fuck Keir Starmer / Netanyahu’s bitch and genocide armer.” Kneecap is not interested in a “both-sides” perspective. This righteous indignation permeates the record, from the track “Palestine”—which features a guest verse from Palestinian rapper Fawzi—to the lead single “Liar’s Tale,” which masterfully mashes up the group’s penchant for confrontation with a raucous, end-of-the-world party atmosphere.
The trio’s scope extends well beyond the Israel-Palestine conflict. They frequently take aim at British imperialism and continue to champion their heritage by rapping in Irish, positioning themselves as pioneers on the international stage. It is in these strident, uncompromising moments that Fenian truly succeeds. While the group occasionally flirts with absurdity, their commitment to their identity remains the project’s backbone.
So how can an album that condemns Israel and references IRA tactics feel so inherently fun? The answer lies in the chemistry between emcees Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap, who remain convivial and charismatic even when pushing boundaries. Meanwhile, DJ Próvaí draws from a sonic palette that evokes the grit of ’90s stalwarts like Massive Attack and the frenetic energy of ’00s grime icons such as Dizzee Rascal. This unique blend of influences gives Fenian a dizzying, timeless quality.
Not every moment on the record is a late-night anthem. The closing track, “Irish Goodbye,” offers a poignant meditation on grief, while songs like “Cocaine Hill” explore the darker realities of drug culture. The album serves as a testament to the group’s resilience; despite the U.K. government’s failed attempts to pursue terror-related charges against Mo Chara, Fenian stands as a defiant middle finger to the powers that be.