OPINION: Low life scum

“I’m a H - Double O - D.

Low life scum, that’s what they say about me.”

This is how the chorus of Irish punk rap group Kneecap’s song “H.O.O.D” begins. In fact, that’s the only thing they say in the chorus, the two spiritual brothers of Móglaí Bop and Mo Chara yelling in unison to a droning beat made by their third and final member, DJ Próvaí, repeating the label placed on them by, well, “they.”

Kneecap, originating out of Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the late ‘10s were never made for the general public. They’re deliberately abrasive, brash, loud and crass. Lyrics describing drug use, deviancy and obscenity kick you in the teeth with punk sensibilities. Boasting in a combination of English and Irish, the group is as unruly as the city they come from.

Last weekend, I was able to catch the movie “Kneecap,” a biopic depicting the early years of the group as they twist their angst into their music. The movie can be just as harsh as their music, occasionally juvenile and immature. But, as it slowly builds the group’s mythos (each band member is played by their real-life counterpart), “Kneecap” presents an energetic whistle for preserving Irish culture.

Northern Ireland as a region has been in a perpetual identity crisis, with the region being a part of the U.K. despite the Irish roots. Depending on how you describe it, your own political views might be revealed. Irish republicans, who see the area as part of Ireland, simply refer to the area as “North of Ireland.” The name itself can be controversial.

Ireland’s culture, in this area, is constantly in flux. Enforcement of converting the region’s language to English was pushed by Britain’s control of the area. Speaking Irish, the culturally indigenous language of the area, wasn’t considered important by a government across the Irish Sea.

Belfast’s history of riots and violence in the late 1900s to try to take back Northern Ireland’s independence, a period called the Troubles, led to a culture of distrust toward the regulating bodies, a common theme for counterculture in both Ireland and the U.K.

These sentiments continue today, with those who wish to see a unified Ireland and those who wish to remain in the U.K., a culture war fought with disobedience and graffiti. Protecting the Irish language, the essence of the Irish culture, is the first step.

In “Kneecap,” JJ Ó Dochartaigh, who will later go by the stage name DJ Próvaí, teaches the increasingly scarce language. After stumbling across two loud punks, who rebel by refusing to speak English to the police, he helps guide their chaotic energy into creating music with lyrics partially in Irish.

JJ becomes a viewpoint for the audience, the easiest to relate to as a well-educated man with an upstanding appearance that lives a double life as a mild-mannered teacher and rowdy DJ. At night, he pulls a balaclava adorned with the colors of the Irish flag over his face. During one intense stage performance, he moons the audience with writing on his cheeks saying “Brits Out.”

What starts as indecent and vile begins to shift as the energy converts for political movement. Now, the Irish language is a celebration, a magnificent protest against those who would suppress the culture. Irish words are used as bullets to preserve the language and gives an underlying edge to each song.

Through the drug-infused madness is real desire for change. Each of the three members of Kneecap has their own struggles with how they view the language, from JJ’s desire to implement a culturally-relevant use to Móglaí fighting to continue his father’s teachings about the language’s power. It supplements the energy with a feeling of required movement, a reason to go to war with beats and cyphers.

Punk energy is a beautiful thing. The ability to convert angst and rage into something creatively significant is always a pleasure to witness. As JJ imagines screaming at the disciplinary committee who ends up sacking him after he snuck into his own classroom to produce a song, it’s easy to see how important the music can be.

Depending on how quick one can parse the Irish accents, the story might fall flat as it ticks the appropriate feel-good boxes by the end. But, “Kneecap” is a brilliant piece of independent filmmaking, of truly riotous energy that in its existence helps preserve a language which could fade without attention.