It may be called Harbour View Road – but there is no harbour and not much of a view in this patch of suburb outside Cork city, just a row of nondescript houses in a sea of housing estates. The doors of the 202 bus, which trundles here from the city centre, emit a little sigh when they open.
And then, as you approach a curve in the road, flashes of colour appear: a repurposed metal container splotched red, yellow, green and blue like an artist’s palette, with two words stencilled in black: Kabin Studio.
Here is the home of the drum’n’bass phenomenon called The Spark, one of the songs of summer that made the internet vibrate with joy, and of the children and tutors who made it happen. The video was filmed at the studio and on a 202 bus.
The collaboration between Kabin Crew – songwriters, rappers, creatives and volunteers from Cork, aged nine and up – plus a group of refugee children known as Lisdoonvarna Crew from Co Clare, is a viral sensation that has amassed more than 51 million streams across multiple platforms, half a billion views on Instagram and more than 1.3 billion views on TikTok.
Stormzy, Tove Lo and Time magazine, among others, have hailed its hip-hop-style paean to youthful creativity. “Think you can stop what we do?” asks the opening lyric. “I doubt it,” the performers declare. “We got the energy, we’ll tell you all about it. I searched for my spark and I found it.”
This August morning is no typical day at the studio: it is 10.30am and about 20 kids and a handful of adults are milling in the yard, talking a mile a minute while checking make-up, sunglasses, tutus, sparkly outfits, packed lunches and backpacks. The boys are mostly in tracksuits; the girls are a blend of goths, princesses and Hollywood glam.
A coach pulls up and Garry McCarthy (38) the founder and creative director of the studio, announces that it’s time to go. Nobody hears amid the hubbub, so he yells again, adding the timeless showbiz exhortation: “Has everybody peed?”
The Crew is headed out on a road trip to perform at Electric Picnic, Ireland’s biggest music festival, in Co Laois, more than 160km (100 miles) away.
“Before, I was a bit shy and not able to express myself so much,” says David Draszanowski, aged nine. In person a soft-spoken cherub, in the video he raps like a pint-sized Eminem in a fur coat and gold chain, minus the swearing. “When I went to the Kabin I realised, ‘Oh, I can make raps and show the world who I am,’” he says.
Heidi White (11) says she really has found her own spark. “Performing is the centre of my life. To get all these opportunities to perform in front of ever-bigger crowds is just mind blowing.”
They have played festivals around Ireland and in Scotland, and the next day are due to perform before 15,000 people on the main stage at Pukkelpop, Belgium’s biggest music festival. Does she get nervous? Heidi arches an eyebrow and smiles at such a daft question. “No.”
As the coach zips north along the M8, a mum at the front taps commands into a laptop and McCarthy weaves down the aisle with a speaker blasting the set list – more than a dozen songs – for a final rehearsal. Crisps and gummies forgotten, the children sway and bounce in their seats, taking turns at solos.
“Heidi, you’re up!” says McCarthy, and she leads the troupe in Ups and Downs, a fast-tempo ode to resilience with the refrain: “You need to learn to dance in the rain.” Jamie Forde (18) delivers a punchy number about his disability. “There’s more to me than just these wheels,” he raps. “It might not seem fair, but I live my best life in a wheelchair.”
The songs are fast and life-affirming, with titles such as Keep the Vibes Up. During lulls, some kids write song ideas and lyric fragments on their phones. It’s as if the Von Trapps and Nicki Minaj were fused and reincarnated with Cork accents.
McCarthy, a songwriter, rapper and youth workshop facilitator, founded the Kabin in 2012 and has produced hundreds of songs through youth rap projects, including one called Rhyme Island, from which The Spark emerged. It was a non-commercial collaboration with Creative Ireland, a Government initiative that funds Cruinniú na nÓg, an annual celebration of youthful creativity.
The Cork crew developed the chorus and first verse, after which tutors took the material to a direct provision (asylum seekers’ accommodation and support) refugee centre in Lisdoonvarna, where children from Sudan, Nigeria, Kosovo and elsewhere helped to complete it. The song lit up social and mainstream media after launching in May. “Music fans, have we got a new, totally infectious bop for you,” said National Public Radio in the US.
McCarthy and his colleagues Caoimhe Barry and Jackie Rea now double as tour managers, making sure the kids are watered, fed and buckled in for a ride no one quite expected. “The response has blown us away,” says McCarthy. “People are inspired by the kids’ energy and positivity. Plus, it’s a really catchy song.”
When you are in the Kabin writing lyrics and testing beats, problems melt away, says Seán Downey, a rapper turned videographer. “You can switch off and be the best version of yourself. It’s magic.” He shot the video for The Spark in a single day.
As we navigate country lanes and police checkpoints the scale of Electric Picnic – a Glastonbury-style sprawl – momentarily silences the coach. “Oh my God, it’s huge,” says a voice. The kids tumble out and are greeted by the Lisdoonvarna Crew, who arrived on a separate coach. There are smiles, hugs, catch-ups – friendships have formed, though the two groups meet only sporadically – before a trek through fields, marquees and booming music to their stage. Mercy Imoniaro (nine) from Nigeria, casts a grateful eye to a sunny sky. “Ireland is nice but I’m not going to lie: I don’t like the weather.”
It is a side stage, not the main arena, but when the children bound on and launch into their set the audience roars. “They put Cork on the map,” beams Sarah Murphy. When the children belt out Our Culture, about heritage and pride, it feels like a joyful rebuttal to anti-immigrant sentiment. When they sing The Spark, a thousand roaring voices swell the chorus.
Afterwards, backstage, the kids devour crisps and agree that today’s was perhaps their best performance. Everything went right. They return to the coaches discussing next outings, next adventures. The two groups say goodbye and board their vehicles. The Irish countryside flashes by and it is still hours till sunset but for some of the Kabin Crew the day is done. They sleep. – Guardian
