Madeleine Mitchell.
Daniel Ross
International Women’s Day was first celebrated in 1911 – if celebrated is the word for an event calling for women’s rights to vote and work, and to end discrimination. Now, 110 years later, it remains an annual fixture: a spur to debate, awareness-raising, frustration and fury. The world has changed radically since 1911. But if the ever-energetic violinist and British music advocate Madeleine Mitchell had programmed a concert simply called A Century of Music by British Composers, would you have assumed you’d find women in the lineup? (And how often are programmes of music by female composers scheduled on the other 364 days of the year?)
Mitchell’s concert of A Century of Music by British Women (1921-2021), performed by her London Chamber Ensemble, is an important reminder of just how much music most of us don’t get to hear and thus don’t get to know, most of the time. But it’s more than that: the musical 20th-century that emerges through Rebecca Clarke’s 1921 Piano Trio (pianist Sophia Rahman’s velveteen touch making the work’s lyrical moments luminous), Ruth Gipps’ mesmerising 1958 Prelude for Bass Clarinet (played with tremendous care by Peter Cigleris) and Grace Williams’ beautifully scored, irresistibly driven 1934 Suite for Nine Instruments is a far cry from the familiar modernist mainstream. This 20th century was about rethinking how instruments could sound, not a one-size-fits-all break with tonality.
The rest of Mitchell’s densely packed programme mixed miniatures by eminent living composers. From Thea Musgrave’s skittish 1960 Colloquy to the world premiere of Errollyn Wallen’s Sojourner Truth, a piece for violin and piano based on the spiritual O’er the Crossing, via works by Helen Grime, Cheryl Frances-Hoad and Judith Weir, the London Chamber Ensemble’s performances were committed but undemonstrative – sometimes to the point of understatement. The video editing, which cross-faded performances to leave barely a second between items, didn’t help. But what was missing was a sense of fun – perhaps even of celebration.
nternational Women’s Day was first celebrated in 1911 – if celebrated is the word for an event calling for women’s rights to vote and work, and to end discrimination. Now, 110 years later, it remains an annual fixture: a spur to debate, awareness-raising, frustration and fury. The world has changed radically since 1911. But if the ever-energetic violinist and British music advocate Madeleine Mitchell had programmed a concert simply called A Century of Music by British Composers, would you have assumed you’d find women in the lineup? (And how often are programmes of music by female composers scheduled on the other 364 days of the year?)
The closing hours of Reading 2026 have finally arrived. Florence + The Machine brought the rain during ‘Dog Days Are Over’ at The Grid, opening the heavens and leaving the festival site completely soaked. The weary fans who have stayed behind are wet, exhausted and clearly feeling the effects of the weekend. What they need now is one final enormous celebration to make the wait worthwhile.
The Gallery tent comes alive as the speakers blast ‘Favourite’ by Friday’s headliners and fellow countrymen Fontaines D.C., receiving the kind of reaction usually reserved for ‘Mr Brightside’ at a drunken wedding reception. Moments later, Kneecap display their familiar statement accusing Israel of carrying out genocide against the people of Palestine and Lebanon, with support from the UK government. It captures the Belfast rap trio perfectly, combining serious political messages with an unapologetic party atmosphere.
“We use our platform to talk about what we believe is right,” Mo Chara explains during the performance, before recognising those who “aren’t so fucking lucky” and whose voices have been suppressed. He soon encourages the audience to roar “fuck Netanyahu” and “free free Palestine”. Later, he starts a powerful chant of “Aaaaaa-ndy Buuurn-ham’s a waaaaaaan-ker” to the melody of ‘Seven Nation Army’, targeting our new Prime Minister over his claim that “a united Ireland is off the table”. Laughing, he asks: “The BBC won’t broadcast that, or will they?” As it turned out, they did not.

Away from the headlines and the controversy, there is no denying the connection Kneecap have built with their audience. Politics may shape the conversation, but the crowd also came to enjoy themselves, ready for a rave after the rally. The performance begins carefully with the heavy rumble of ‘Smugglers & Scholars’, before exploding during the Grian Chatten collaboration ‘Better Way To Live’ and the threatening energy of ‘Sick In The Head’. “Are ya ready for a mad one?” Mo Chara shouts. The response is already obvious.
The atmosphere becomes increasingly chaotic as the hip hop rhythm of ‘Cold At The Top’ and the hypnotic trance sounds of ‘An Ra’ send the entire tent into motion. The trio jokingly thank the UK for everything it has given Ireland, listing UKIP, fish and chips, a mental health crisis, Jimmy Saville, HP Sauce and Bloody Sunday. However, the show reaches another level once the second half begins. The explosive ‘Sayonara’ brings the ‘beef’ to ‘IBEEFA’, while ‘Get Your Brits Out’ and ‘Guilty Conscience’ give the crowd every reason to obey Móglaí Bap’s demand to “oooopen up the piiiiiit”.

Anyone watching closely may have questioned why the cameras continued to focus on Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara. The pair eventually reveal that they have spent recent weeks performing alongside a “provisional” DJ Próvai. Wearing the familiar tricolour balaclava, the temporary replacement handles his role as the crowd agitator with confidence while their bandmate enjoys some paternity leave. “Some things are more important than music, and that’s family,” they explain. How sweet. Móglaí Bap quickly destroys the tender moment by adding: “As you might know, the Brits took all our potatoes from Ireland; they took all our cocaine,” before declaring, “but we still have all our caaandy.” The group then charge directly into one of the biggest tracks ever written about extremely powerful ketamine.
‘Liar’s Tale’ sparks another huge reaction with its response to Keir Starmer, “genocide armer”, while the group warn that “you’re not getting away with doing nothing”. It is a politically charged message hidden inside an irresistible anthem from musicians who have experienced the “belly of the beast” through the legal system. Their latest album, ‘Fenian’, has helped Kneecap fully embrace the celebration that has always been part of their identity. Their live production now feels capable of filling arenas, blending the intimacy of a late night lock in with the rhythmic force and visual scale of The Chemical Brothers, the reckless electronic punk spirit of The Prodigy, and the fearless political honesty of Public Enemy. The spectacular visuals complete the experience.
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Closing with the powerful combination of ‘Fenian’, ‘H.O.O.D.’ and the enormous ‘The Recap’, Kneecap bring our final celebration at Reading to a thrilling conclusion while also finishing their last festival appearance of the summer. “It’s been a pleasure to spend it with you mad c**ts,” Mo Chara says before leaving the stage. The feeling is mutual.
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