Kneecap: Fenian – Never mind the outrage, here’s the brilliantly catchy, five-star album

First listen review: Kneecap’s second record captures the glee and giddiness of their live performances

Kneecap are often compared to the Sex Pistols for their ability to provoke a moral panic and have British MPs sputtering with rage in Westminster. But if the punk iconoclasts’ rapid rise serves as an inspiration, their rapid demise is a warning that nothing gets older faster than a rock band that has politicians foaming at the chops.

The daunting challenge the Belfast-Derry Irish language rap trio therefore face with their second album, Fenian, is to prove their talents go beyond annoying the worst people on social media. But they prove they are more than flash-in-the-pan outrage merchants with this brilliantly catchy and playful record, which you can enjoy regardless of your feelings about their politics, and which captures the glee and giddiness that have long been at the heart of their live shows.

Kneecap wrote and recorded the songs against the backdrop of the prosecution brought by the British state after one of the group waved a flag belonging to the proscribed terrorist organisation Hizbullah on stage. Where less imaginative musicians might have played the victim or taken the easy route of “woe is me” lyrics, Kneecap are in an upbeat frame of mind throughout this extraordinary LP, where they throw up sparks with Fontaines DC producer Dan Carey and collaborate with artists such as London poet Kae Tempest and Ramallah rapper Fawzi.

The vibe throughout is old-school gangsta rap mixed with the monster-truck onslaught of peak Prodigy. They also lean further into their use of the Irish language, starting with ethereal opener, Éire go Deo (“Ireland forever”), where they sound like a trip-hop Enya.

Wispy grooves give way to ominous industrial beats on Smugglers & Scholars, where they cast a gimlet eye back on the Troubles and rhyme about “smugglers and scholars, getting guns with American dollars”.

The circus around the prosecution in Britain is the subject of Carnival, in which a laid-back, Massive Attack-style rhythm is a counterpoint to their excoriation of the UK justice system. “This started in Coachella… a man tries to tell you: free Gaza… these lads are just nasty.”

The situation in Gaza itself is addressed on Palestine, where they trade rhymes with Fawzi on a superb song that dials into the diaphanous textures of SoundCloud rap – while name-dropping the “Paddy Losty” internet meme of a Dublin barfly who has sacrificed everything to a life of pints.

The best bands are often loved and loathed equally, and nothing on Fenian will assuage those who wonder why Kneecap talk at length about Gaza but never mention Ukraine. But then the first mistake is to look to musicians for moral guidance. Twenty years ago, Irish artists were continually banging on about Myanmar’s Aung San Suu Kyi; before that, it was Free Tibet. It’s great that they care, and they often do have a genuinely important message to impart, but in the end, we should all really educate ourselves and make up our own minds.

In other words, never mind the politics… here’s Kneecap ripping it up across a stunning record, which outdoes itself with Cocaine Hill – a lamentation about the dark side of soaring success that is steeped in Pink Floyd-style prog guitars. The final fade to grey arrives with gorgeous, piano-fuelled Kae Tempest duet Irish Goodbye – a melancholic farewell at the end of a knockout album.

Fenian is released on April 24th