Limerick rapper Strange Boy: 'The rest of the country kind of lives in Dublin's shadow'
Strange Boy has a new single and a debut album on the way. Picture: Paul McCarthy
For the better part of the past five years, the rapper Strange Boy has grown exponentially more mysterious and unpredictable, even as hip-hop and traditional Irish music — the styles in which his world collide — have shifted direction.
International audiences have become more attuned to his frequency — he recently played the Centre Culturel Irlandais in Paris and performs at the WOMEX World Music Expo in October — and his star is also rising in his home country. In 2023 he was announced as the recipient of the Liam O'Flynn Award, a prize bestowed each year by the Arts Council and the National Concert Hall to recognise individual creativity in traditional Irish music.
That said, his choices remain too lively to get a permanent read on. Just when you think you’ve finally made sense of him, he sheds his skin once more.
Born Jordan Kelly in the north Limerick suburb of Caherdavin, Strange Boy has spent the past few years establishing himself as one of the première writers in Irish rap. Growing up, the 25-year-old had an interest in music but sheltered his creative output.
“As a teenager, I was very quiet and just went along with what everyone else was doing. And that could be mad stuff. At home I was reading books, writing stories, and then out with the boys I was just a different person.”
Home, as it was, was not always a safe place. “I didn’t really think about the future,” he says. “We often had the shades [police] or ambulances at the door, so I kind of lived in a state of waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Then, in secondary school, I got in with a crowd who loved music. One of the boys was a rapper, so I just sort of gave it a shot, and then I kept doing it until the point where I was getting paid.”
As a young man, he benefited from Music Generation, a national music education programme led by the Limerick and Clare Education and Training Board. Here, he met God Knows and Murli, the ‘godfathers of modern Irish hip-hop’ and former members of Rusangano Family along with Denise Chaila, who encouraged him to hone his craft.
“They did a workshop with us in YouthReach in Moyross, I was there because I got kicked out of school. And so I did a rap for them and then they kind of mentored me. I got to know them, and my skills improved. Then I saw them tour the country and get out to America and stuff so I began thinking –– maybe that could be me.”
Kelly has always rapped with a thoughtful confidence, yet in a conflicted tone, as if he were a delinquent making good from inside a prison cell. In his 2020 hit ‘The Pope’, he articulates the dreams of a twelve-year-old who wants to become known (“I want a big house, like the Pope has / I want lots of fans, like the Pope has / I want the bulletproof car, like the Pope has / Walk around in my gown, like the Pope can”). His track ‘Beginnings’ features Moya Brennan of Clannad and feels more like a deliverance of social commentary than a lighthearted jab at religious grievances.
Strange Boy’s first album Holy / Unholy, released in 2021, is a record so dripping with authenticity that it feels less like a meeting of traditional and modern genres. His forthcoming work, a single entitled ‘God Help Him (Seemingly He Didn't)', and an album Say Nothing — due for release in the spring — is another pivot yet again.
“It’s kind of just an expression of a style I wanted to try out,” he says. “I do a lot more singing on it. It’s about a circumstance that happened to me a couple of years ago, one I tried to put into song. Then the album is a small collection of stories I would have seen or done growing up in Limerick, and how that affected me as a man, and my development as a man. Just trying to kind of capture the spirit of what I saw and portray it as best I can.”
Artists of the insightful rap movement possess a world-weariness that makes them seem older than they are. At gigs, punters onstage and off tend to nod along, unsure of whether they should celebrate or mourn. Strange Boy is no exception, much like a flurry of his Limerick-centric counterparts. “Limerick people are generally honest,” he says. “They’ll tell you what they think, which doesn’t always happen in this industry.” Limerick, of course, boasts an expansive musical history, one that larger, better-stocked cities can rarely emulate. Does it get tough to see Dublin honoured with resources over Limerick time and time again?
“The rest of the country kind of lives in Dublin's shadow,” he says. “You know, just because that's where everything's happening. There’s some good stuff happening up in Dublin. Sometimes I get bitter about it personally, but then I detach myself from it and realise that there are so many talented heads up in Dublin, that they deserve it. Dublin, in a lot of ways, is similar to Limerick. Certain parts of it feel the exact same as where I grew up. Young fellas talk the same, almost. And some of my favourite shows have been there. So I would never begrudge them for, like, getting the most resources or anything. It's just me being petty sometimes.”
Layers of unexpected emotions have long been key to Strange Boy’s rapping, but a selling point of much of his work is its sensitivity, the muted palette that offsets the revelatory details in his writing. He has always had a knack for lyricism — Ulysses, and the works of Joyce in general, have influenced his latest piece – and now he has developed a keenness, too, for increased fluency.
Above all, however, authenticity has been his top priority. “Carving out my own thing with trad and rap has helped me be more authentic in general,” he says. “I’d only heard it done once well before, and that was by this amazing spoken word rapper from Limerick, Shane Davis. He had an unbelievable album, but never put it out. That kind of planted a little notion in my head to maybe one day try something like that. So when Enda [Gallery; Strange Boy’s main collaborator] approached me about it, I was like, I may as well. It ended up being something that I’m still living off to this day, something that’s brought me to Paris and the US. It really seems to resonate with people as much as it has with me, which has been class to see.”
Pleasantly, it is something both he and Gallery will continue to work off of. “I want people to get enjoyment out of the album. Really enjoy it. Whether that’s dancing, singing, a few laughs, whatever. My last one was very pessimistic, so this one is just less cynical and more positive in terms of outcome. There’s still some darkness, but I wanted to make something more upbeat. I just hope they see that.”
- Strange Boy will play the 30th edition of WOMEX in Manchester, October 23-27; and Whelan's in Dublin on March 6, 2025
Louise Mulcahy: Another former Liam O’Flynn Award winner, Louise Mulcahy is an internationally recognised master performer on both flute and uilleann pipes.
Emma Langford: Langford is a singer-songwriter, also hailing from Caherdavin, whose proficiency in singing folk music bagged her the Best Emerging Artist award at the inaugural RTÉ Radio 1 Folk Awards.
Wilzee: Limerick-born Traveller Wilzee has established a notable presence in the Irish hip-hop scene in recent years. An accomplished script writer and spoken word artist, his creativity appears boundless.
Paddy Mulcahy: Composer, producer and synthesist Paddy Mulcahy is known for his musical diversity. Once known under the moniker Nubus, he is classically trained, electronically-centred and sonically brilliant.
Kingfishr: The Limerick-based trio just recently opened for Cian Ducrot and George Ezra, and are known for infectious banjo rhythms and anthemic tracks.
