If you believe the conservative press, Kneecaps are a danger to society. They're a trio of balaclava-wearing scoundrels trying to tarnish Britain itself. Listening to their debut album, Fine Art, at times, you can imagine that their critics will gleefully double down on their anger. The album is peppered with sniffy lines and the wayward background noise of a wild night at the bar; one track is “Rhino Ket.” But take a step back (or, conversely, dive in fully), and Fine Art, as the title suggests, is a unique twist on the work. It's a fully immersive conceptual work, and like the recent Sundance-winning biopic, it's far too clever for a trio of scoundrels.
Set over a hedonistic night at the fictional pub The Lutz, a series of skits tie the action together throughout, with Lankum's Radie Peat singing the traditional Irish opener to “3CAG” and Fontaines DC's Grian Chatten propping up a barstool to the beer-bottom anti-anthem “Better Way To Live.” The best of these is the sudden appearance of a music-industry executive gape on “KNEECAP chaps” (“I love your accents… I'm British, by the way”). At times, it's easy to forget this isn't a radio drama, but there are stand-alone gems; the high-energy drum & bass highlight of “I'm Flush” and the frenetic rave-tinged “Rhino Ket” add even more raucousness to the proven mayhem of their live shows. Meanwhile, the flute trills of “Drug Dealin' Pagans” and the street-gospel-backed finale of “Way Too Much” suggest there are layers to their outlook. But really, Fine Art, like any great work, should be seen as a whole. And as a whole, it's utterly unique, utterly committed, utterly thrilling. Don't tell the government.