Going off with the king’s head: Bronze George V turns up at Kneecap gig
By Karl Quinn
Eighty-nine years after he died, King George V appears to be having the time of his life. Or, at any rate, his severed bronze head is.
Having been “liberated” from his torso last June, the head of the man who ruled the British Empire from 1910 to 1936 turned up at an Australia Day barbecue in January. Now, he’s reappeared again, as a special guest onstage at music venue 170 Russell, during the final Melbourne show by Northern Irish band Kneecap.
The head stolen from a statue of King George V has reappeared onstage at a Kneecap gig in Melbourne.Credit: Ian Laidlaw
The bronze head, belonging to a 2.7-metre high statue of King George V, was briefly brought on stage at the final Melbourne gig of the staunchly Republican band, who deliver their hip-hop lyrics in a mix of Irish (Gaelic) and English.
The band shared an image of the head – which police have been looking for more than eight months – on social media over the weekend.
“Well well, a chairde Gael [dear friends]. Some madman dropped by with a huge King George’s head so he could hear a few tunes for our last Melbourne show,” the band posted on Instagram.
“Allegedly his head was cut off last year in the city. Anyways, he was put on stage for a few tunes and then whisked away. Remember, every colony can fall.”
The head was severed from the torso of the statue in King’s Domain, in Melbourne’s Royal Botanic Gardens precinct, on the King’s Birthday last year, and has been missing ever since.
Its reappearance onstage at 170 Russell last Friday was not, however, the first time it has been spotted since going walkabout.
In February, this masthead reported that video footage had been shared of the head surrounded by flames, with an Australian flag in the background, apparently filmed at an Australia Day barbecue.
Police said on Monday they were aware of the latest appearance, and confirmed their investigation was ongoing.
Kneecap take their name from the slang term for the infliction of a deliberate wound in the knee, often by gunshot, as favoured by gangsters and the IRA. They play a brand of fast-paced electronic dance music with hip-hop-style lyrics, and are both politically minded and party-focused.
Their songs advocate equally for the rights of indigenous cultures and languages and the wholehearted pursuit of getting wasted.
Kneecap was founded in 2017 by vocalists Moglai Bap (aka Naoise Ó Caireallain), whose father was an Irish language activist, and Mo Chara (real name Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh), with producer DJ Provai (J.J. Ó Dochartaigh), a former schoolteacher.
Their fame has exploded since the release last year of the film, Kneecap, a somewhat fanciful but still largely factual account of their rise, in which the men play themselves, more or less.
Speaking to this masthead recently, the band said they believed the film had resonated not simply because it was “based on three characters and the Irish language”, but because “it’s a story as old as time, where a language is driven almost to extinction by colonialism”.
Must-see movies, interviews and all the latest from the world of film delivered to your inbox. Sign up for our Screening Room newsletter.