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The Punk Trinity - the tale of the third city

Chapter Extracts

by Dee Wilson

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The Intro

The summer holidays of 77 came to an abrupt end for me on the 18 th July. A day full of nervous tension; you know the feeling, as though you were being thrown to the wolves, cast in at the deep end of life to fend for myself. I know……….It all sounds a bit melodramatic; but back in the day………To a sixteen year old school leaver faced with the trauma of his first day in a controlled, working environment. That's exactly how it felt to me that first morning. To say I was petrified as I took those “final steps” from childhood to adult life is putting it mildly. I was naive, and at the same what is commonly known in “plain old Belfast terminology” as “a mister know it all who knows fuck”. Who was then faced with the most daunting task of his life.............Having to enter the realms of manhood “all by his lonesome”……..

Yes; that was me alright, still wet behind the ears and thinking I knew everything there was to know about life. Although I can assure you that my attitude quickly and dramatically changed as the day progressed. That feeling of being out of my depth really springs to mind here. As I truly didn't have a fucking clue as to what this transition “that we all have to make at some point of our lives” had in store for me; and I am not a shamed to admit that either. After all its just all part and parcel of growing up is it not?

In hindsight; if I knew then what I now know; well…….. Things would have been a hell of a lot different; I can tell you. To be honest, if I had known how that day was to unfold when I got out of bed, well.......... I would have realized straight away that it wasn't a day to be worried but one to get excited about. I would have embraced my day of liberation for all it was worth, stood proud, and rejoiced out loud for all to hear, but instead, I shit myself as I made my way to work that day. Ah…… to have had the powers of hindsight back then would have been a wonderful asset, a true advantage but there again; if only such a thing actually existed in this world!

Looking back I can now see; I wasn't simply cast into the big bad world to fend for myself. I had been let loose, allowed to fly from the nest to discover the many joys, as well as the many the pitfalls that life had to offer me; and by fuck I enjoyed myself, I have no regrets. Today I laugh about it but back then…….. You can rest assured as I left the family home that morning, neither of my darling parents would have envisaged the dramatic twist my life was about to take, come to think of it neither did I. I mean who in the right mind would have seen those changes coming, given the situation; the surrounding in which we all lived in? Although you would have thought the fact that my life had already started to change long before the 18 th July 1977, should have – would have softened the blow, but it didn't, and you know what. I wouldn't have wanted it to be any other way. This was my pinnacle “my coming of age” so to speak, from that day forth all the past changes started to make sense. The events of the previous twelve months leading up to this date; had all been elucidated in full!!! Leaving me with no doubt at all in my mind as to which road I wanted to follow.

It may have started of as a day of nervous tension, but it quickly turned, leaving me with such wonderful memories; and the knowledge of knowing that not only did I grow up playing a part – my role but, that I belonged to a generation who actually made a difference to this ailing society. Although I must confess, it wasn't until some years later that I was to realize the true importance of the era in which I grew up.

To be precise; it was during a lengthy conversation I had with an old friend ‘regarding this sub-cultural world that we both grew up in'. That's when the lights suddenly flickered in my head. I first came to learn that day, that my friend ‘even though there is five years between the two us' but still his memories collided with mine. We; the conversation went from Punk Rock to Young Americans, form Harp Bar to the infamous Viking in Bangor, and before we knew what was happening, we were coming up with all kinds of conclusions.

At first I was amazed, no really, because I did not think for one second that my friend Stephen knew anything of these Young Americans, let a lone remembered – knew them, but I was wrong. As we talked; he began to describe the way they dressed, and before long he was naming names of ones that he knew, which once again coincided with some of the names that I knew. Suddenly the era that I believed I had been apart off for so long, was starting to show an entirely different side. Which made the pair of us think; and before we knew it. We “in our own minds” had realized, or should I say; we had discovered that the story we both knew, or thought we knew, wasn't exactly the truth as we knew it at all.

We began to dig; talking, asking questions to whomever we thought would know the answers, but at first; we simply hit brick walls. No one I talked to at first wanted to open up, never mind divulge their secrets of those Golden Years to me. In fact, when I first disclosed my theories ‘they all politely smiled, and dismissed my claims with such replies as “we didn't change anything” or “we were only having fun”. Yeah right, so was Charles Manson but his actions didn't go on to change the world. Doubt had started to enter my mind; I began to think that it was all too good to be true, that we were just getting carried away in our own imagination. Then suddenly “out of the blue” a break through came; we had found an old TV documentary on the internet that was made by BBC 2, made for the Arena series. The programme was called “Punk and the Pistols” and was aired to the nation sometime in the 90's me thinks, and I can tell you it simply blew us away. Not so much the documentary itself, although it was good; it was interesting, but what got our juices flowing was the statement made by the one and only “Jordan” the Queen of Punk herself, as she described what life was like to work in “Sex” on London's Kings Road in those early days. It was her words that got us excited not the program.

The statement was clear to me; and I quote “we had kids coming from all over the place, and there did seem to be any limit as to where they would come from to visit the shop. You know we had kids coming from Northern Ireland and stuff, buying a load of things all in one go obviously, but mainly the suburbs” meaning the suburbs of London "obviously". Now don't find it funny there was no mention off kids from Manchester or Birmingham, from Liverpool or Leeds, and as for Scotland and Wales, well they never entered the equation. So believe me; from the moment I heard those words, I knew that we were on the right track. She was talking about 1974 - 75, a time when the IRA were blowing the fuck out of London, and they "the English" didn't see a difference between "Ireland and Northern Ireland" to them we were all the same just murdering scum.

There was no longer any doubt in my mind, what we thought “NO fuck it” what we had believed to be the truth was turning out to be a fact. Can you believe it; a simple discussion leads us to discover the truth, which will all but correct the narratives, not only will it put this story, the one that we thought we knew “straight once and for all”. Think about it; it has brought the story far closer to home than we had ever imagined. So on that note; I bring too you “The Tale of the Third City” the understanding which is “The Punk Trilogy” and what really happened.

I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave your comments.

Chapter intro

What a Fucked up world

If the kids of today were to take a long hard look back at the 1970’s, they could be easily forgiven for thinking that the world had gone just a little bit mad. Me, I was a nine year old boy at the time, which I am sure you will all agree is a very impressionable age. What you saw, is what you modelled yourself on. One day I could be an American G.I plastic gun in hand, the next I would be dressed in those famous Claret and Blue colours, impersonating my West Ham hero Geoff Hurst. Then; on the days it rained, which it does quite often in here Northern Ireland. I would be Charlie Watts of the Rolling Stones banging on my little toy drum kit, while singing at the top of my voice “HERE COMES MY 96th NERVOUS BREAKDOWN”.

Did the 1970s affect me? Of course they did. Was I aware of that fact, or better still, did I care? Well to be honest, the answer to those question is probably not. It’s only now; as we look back on ourselves that we realize what a fucked up world we have all come from, and believe me. There is nowhere more so “for me anyway” than here in Northern Ireland where I grew up. Let me explain……

The memories I have of the 1970s are as clear today as they were all those years ago, as though it was yesterday and that's simply because the majority of my memories have been gathered from the countless images captured by those cameras belonging to the world’s press. Who then proceeded to project those images onto the family’s TV screen, and believe it or not but they are still using those same images today, possibly as constant reminder to all future generations of what could happen, when things do go horribly wrong!!!

Such images as those of mighty America flexing its muscles as it waged war on little old Vietnam, which turned out to be the biggest embarrassment the U.S. has yet to get over, never mind the fact they have yet to learn from the mistakes that were made.
Such a great nation left to cradle the memories of a lost generation. Families left with only the memories of their loved ones; while those in power simply turned there back‘s on the saviours. Is it just me, or does everyone else see this as a total disregard to the sacrifice they made? It was that kind of attitude which caused untold problems across America. The civil unrest, the anti-war protesters, and the mirrored images of the nineteen sixties “black” civil right marches.

May Day 1971 was one of those days that saw the similarities between our two great nations coincide with one another. In the States, it was a day which saw thousands of peace protesters gathering in the American capital to voice their views, hoping their opinions would be heard, but just like any other peaceful protest, before, then and forever after, violence broke out. Violence with a difference; violence which saw black and white Americans of all ages locked in running battles with both the police and the National Guard. Then on the same day; probably at the same time given the time difference, in North London, England....... It’s claimed that during a music festival in Finsbury Park, fighting erupted between black and white Skin Heads at a live performance of the legendary Desmond Decker.

The scenes which supposedly unfolded there that day are said to have led to the “Anglo-Caribbean love affair” coming to an abrupt and brutal end. You know such a love affair I never knew existed but those who were there seem to remember, and they claim. It was just another sad day for the British Empire, for in the wake of this violence ‘this once Great and Proud Nation' was to bear witness to the newly formed right wing movement known as the “National Front” boosting their Neo Nazi ideology, to both grow in strength and in numbers. Sadly bring with them a new culture of racial hatred onto the streets of Britain, which spread through the working class youth of England like the plague. At first, it was contained within the local housing estates, but it soon found its way onto the terraces of every major football stadium in the country. It was their anti-Black mentality which helped to escalate the ever growing problem of the time, which we all now know, as the “British football hooligan”.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 1
Untitled Document

Tartan Armies

The four years that followed will unquestionably go down in history as being the worst years of the conflict in Northern Ireland. It was without any shadow of doubt; the era that would leave an ever lasting impression on the teenager population of that time, and believe me, I was no exception, but sadly, it will be remembered for all the wrong reasons.

1970s Ulster will be remembered for the bombings, the shootings; the unnecessary blood shed caused by misguided politicians, who would openly, and quite frequently encourage young men from both side of the political divide to take up the armed struggle, leading those young men to believe they were soldiers……. convinced that they were fighting a war.

If you were to ask those same men today, why? Their answers would all be same, they would tell you that their main concern; the sole purpose for taking up the gun in the first place; was so they could protect their family and friends, their neighbours, the areas in which they lived. They saw themselves as defenders, the modern day partisans whose tales of “their war” are today so full of romanticism it’s hard to distinguish the truths from their fantasy.

In their own minds, they were Revolutionaries and still to this day portray that same imagery of the Irish Che Guevara’s. Their aim, to distort the truth to suit their own agendas in that one last ditched attempt to convince the fools of this world, that they were actually fighting a valid cause.

It was that same mix of paranoid self-righteousness, which led to all these problems rising it ugly ahead in the first place, and sadly Ulster will be remembered for this for some time to come. Remembered for those times when “Republicans” barricaded themselves into their own areas, claiming they were to protect their own. They said by preventing the security forces and loyalist gangs from entering their ghettos but you have to ask yourself, was this really the reason why? Could this simply not have been the Republican’s way of controlling the insiders, and, or those who actually dared to go out into the world to mix?

This takes me right back to the Brendan Hughes quote “that the IRA practically controlled the Lower Falls”. Now be honest; does a statement like that not make you want to stop and question the reasoning behind those barricades? I know it does me, but in saying that, this is not the bigot in me coming out, oh no, because it wasn’t all one sided. If you were to take a closer look at the Orange side of city ‘where I come from’ you would soon realize that grass wasn’t much greener over here. On our side; the Orange side of the city, you would find loyalist gangs roaming the streets in packs, with a similar “fucked up” agenda going on in their heads. They claimed; they were merely there to ward off all would be attackers but, it wasn’t just the “would be attackers” that they saw as prey. Let’s be clear on this, if your face didn’t fit, or if you weren’t known in certain areas; well………. do I really need to explain?


These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 2
Untitled Document

Bands won’t play here no more

This town; A……….ah, is coming like a ghost town;
All the clubs have been closed down…..
This place; A……….ah, is coming like a ghost town;
Bands..... won’t play.... no more; too much fighting on the dance floor…..

The words taken from the “Specials” big 80s hit “Ghost Town” in a quick attempt by myself to sum up the 70s and for a split second back then I actually thought they were singing about Belfast, but they weren’t. The truth is; Belfast couldn’t have been further from their minds when those words were penned, although the truth of the matter is, Belfast had become a ghost town; all the clubs had closed down, and guess what? Yeap you've got it. Bands didn’t play here “no more” well Big Name acts from across the sae didn't but believe me. That wasn’t because there was too much fighting on the dance floor that we could live with. Fuck; what am I saying, in my day we enjoyed that part.

The reason why all those Clubs had to close down, and why those Big Name Bands didn’t to come to play here anymore was because Belfast was no longer the safe vibrant city it once was in the 1960s. Thanks to the troubles; there would be no more Rolling Stones, the Who or the Beatles’ to name but a few. Funny enough; Terry Hooley; the self-nominated “Godfather of Punk” once summed it up to me in a conversation we had in his record shop, and I quote; the sixties were just unbelievable, they were magical but we knew it was all over by the end of November 1968. “We all knew it was time to get out of town”. This basically meant that all home grown talent such as Van "the Man” Morrison flew the coop “he” being the first of many to fuck off to pastures new, leaving “them” and us behind to face the lack of “Music” but he wasn’t alone.

So did guitarists: Eric Bell, Gary Moore and Henry McCullough; and again they weren’t the only ones, there were others but who can blame them?

1969 was only the start of drought, as it kicked off for real, more and more of the “BIG NAMES” stayed away. The political situation worsened, the bombings intensified, and slowly the country drifted into 1971 the “interment years”. The year I began to understand the situation this country was faced with, coincidently, it was also the same year Led Zeppelin came to town on “5th March 1971” to be exact. With a new song in hand that was destined to be an all-time classic, said to be the perfect template for all young budding guitarist of the future. That song was none other than “Stairway to Heaven” preformed for the very first time ever, live on stage, here in Belfast's Ulster Hall. Which is, when you think about it, one hell of a claim to be proud of; is it not? You would think so, but for every proud moment we seem to have here in Northern Ireland, there always seems to be a bucket full of not so proud moments that would follow.

1971 we should have been climbing the Stairway to Heaven but instead; in what seemed like a flick of a switch. We were all, the entire nation, being trailed by the hair; kicking and screaming along the Highway to hell…….. The troubles had truly arrived and apart from the odd appearance of Irish rock bands, such as Rory Gallagher, Thin Lizzy and Skid Row, bands who were made up of from cross boarder musicians, from both Belfast and Dublin, so they really don’t fucking count. Leaving only a handful of bands who actually dared to tread the boards in Belfast during the early to mid- 70s, who are actually worth talking about.

By the end of 1972; Belfast was well and truly divided, the facts are simple; the two sides just didn’t like each other and what made matters worse, those left to roam the corridors of power decided “that same year” it would be a wonderful idea to wrap the city centre of Belfast in a ring of steel. Huge security gates were to be erected at each and every entrance into the city centre. With each working gate; came civilian searchers who were backed by the local police force, and overseen by the British Army. Their purpose; to prevent the terrorist forces from causing any further damage to the old Victorian Architecture and, of course, to minimize the risk to any human life that dared to enter the city.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

.

 

Chapter 3
Untitled Document

A Walk on the Wild Side

So let’s rewind a little bit here. Let me take you back to where I believe this story really begins. Even though it may sound as though I am about to contradict everything I’ve have previously said, but believe me this is not the case. Yes, it is true; Belfast had become a ghost town and those “Big Name” bands were no longer willing to come here to play , and sadly; all the clubs did close down but true as this may be. It’s not exactly the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, if you get my drift. Confused………. well prepare yourself “just like our old friend Guy” to be enlightened, in the same way I was, when at first I was made aware of Belfast’s dark side.

Honestly; what I am about to tell you came as much of a surprise to me as it will to you. Stories that can and will be backed with facts and with quotes from some of Belfast most colourful individuals. Those larger than life characters who have all done the walk and, who are all willing to stand up together and confirm what I am about to say is the truth, because this part of the story at the the end of the day is their story.

Stories of such places, of an era, of a side to Belfast that I honestly never knew existed. Stories that could quite easily be mistaken as fantasy; the kind of tall tales which you would think are being exaggerated well out of all proportion but really, they're the truth; the fact’s behind Belfast’s dark and seedy past. I'm not talking about the troubles, I'm talking about the hidden secrets from which a city better known for its violence past; has simply; or should I say more conveniently let slip out of sight and mind as time itself moves on. A piece of our past that was callously ripped from our grasps, of memories brutally erased so to protect the conservative population of this land. Who were simply too afraid to accept or at least; to even attempt to engage in the prospect of change but there was simply no getting away from it. This city in which we live, the city where I grew up; dramtically changed in so many ways during those early years of the troubles, sadly only the scares of war can be seen, whereas the positive changes are only visible to a selected few ……..

It has only been in recent months that I myself have came to learn of this subterranean world and the transformations, which happened not long after those steel gates were erected in 72. Gates “I believed” were put there to protect us and the city in which we lived; but it now seems as though they had yet another purpose, a gateway that lead to a bi-curios world of sexual experimentation, Greenwich Village comes to Belfast!

Well they do say “were there is change, there will be reform”, well……. in a sense that’s what happened in Belfast. Although to be honest; I don’t think that many locals were actually aware of it but those change were happening. As all those famous clubs such as the Boom Boom Rooms, Betty Staffs Ballroom, the Maritime Club, or as Terri Hooley once put it the “list goes on” began to close their doors “one by one” others began to open in their place.

I was born and grew up in the swinging sixties but what do they really mean by swinging. Like I said, all this came pretty much as a surprise to me, because not only did I truly believed but I also like the idea, the stories of the deserted streets which lead me to beleieve that it was us; the Punks of Belfast who brought the life back into the streets, into the city of Belfast. Whereas now we have conflicting tales that can prove that it wasn’t us. Conflicting tales which come with the evidence to back up the fact that there were others out there who actually braved; or should I say “defied” the terrorist threats long before the Harp Bar.

Bars and clubs who offered a subtle hint of diversity, secret locations whose doors were only open to a certain kind of clientele. It's quite simple, if your face wasn’t known or it simply didn’t fit, then you didn’t gain entry and I suppose when you think about it. It was only a natural response to have had these strict rules in place, when you consider the dangerous times in which, and where, we lived.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 4
Untitled Document

The Viking

This Chapter, if it stays as one chapter that is due to the on going interviews, it could possibly be more. Who knows it could quite easily trun out to be a book in its own right. If the stories I am being told are anything to go on, you never know..... You will just have to watch this space

In the meantime, here's a few Photos to get you teeth in. .

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 5
Untitled Document

The autumn of 76

It was in the autumn of 76 when my two trusted friends and I first realized something was about to change. When, where and how those changes were going to affect us was still pretty much a mystery. We were only fifteen year’s old, still at school and still trying to figure out what life was all about, so really what the fuck were we to know. The simple facts are; society in which we lived had robbed us of our innocence, those violent surroundings had practically taken away our childhood and was slowly moulding us into something we obviously didn’t want to be.

That’s right; we too had been drawn in by their bigotry, their hatred and like so many before us, we too were ignorant of our countries past, of our own fucking history and yet we were the lucky ones, apparently. We were told that becasue we got to grow up in the relative safety of suburbia but at the same time, we actually believed that we understood what the armed struggle was all about, for that reason we supported - followed it.
Just goes to show you at the tender age of just fifteen you know no better, topped with the combination that our surrounding plus schooling is what turned us into the typical stereo type Loyalist. Bitter, twisted and always roaming the streets with our auld orange flutes constantly in hand. Then all of a sudden; like a bolt from the sky, we encountered the strangest, yet most dramatic twist that life could ever have throw at us, the aftermath practically turned life as we knew it on it's head.

Seriously, if anyone had've told us back then that this was going to happen, we would have laughed at them for Christ sake. This was Belfast and as far as we were concerned nothing exciting had or could ever happen here but between then and now, well….That’s a whole different story is it not! One that I am happy…. No fuck it; this is a story I will be glad to tell and it's one I will tell with pride!!!

So let's step back in time, to a period when all three of us lived in the quiet leafy suburb of East Belfast known as Belmont. A mixed middle class area of the city, which I have no doubt, to an outsider, would have seemed a million miles away from those troubled hot spots Belfast was famous for but to the three us, it was close enough to have had a big effect on our lives. Although, I have to admit, our suburban life styles would have been somewhat subdued compared to the other parts of the city but nevertheless they were still merely a stone’s throw away from the main flash points in the east of the city. Thus causing our views, our beliefs, our oneway thinking to have been just like anyone else on that side of the river, strictly loyalist without any doubt!

There again, to be honest with you, I think you would’ve been really lucky to have found anyone person at that time, who didn't have some kind of religious issue eating away at them. Although in saying that, I wouldn't want you to think that our parents were at fault, oh no. On that one you can definitely blame society, the churches and the education system. They are the ones who should be held responsible for all this hatred. After all they were the ones who encouraged it, in fact; was it not they who insisted the two sides should be taught in different schools and that our passed, the truth be kept from us……..

Can you honestly believe that in todays modern society, your own history being kept from you and at such a young and influential age? Honestly; I blame this alone, as the sole cause for all those years of apathy, which obviously led to the one sided belief being, of course, what we have all come to commonly know and except here in Northern Ireland, as religious bigotry. As a nation, we have all suffered from that ruling ever since. Their creation; and it was they who allowed this anger to spill out onto the streets of this, a very vulnerable society. Which incidentally was their master plan……They're the reason why this country has been plagued with so much hatred and for so long.

I know…. I have already pointed out the fact that Belfast in the mid-70s was a very dangerous place to be and at the same time I have tried to explain just how that era affected us and why……I thought if you at least knew the background, then obviosly you would understand the reason why. Now I ask you to think about it, you will then realise that the troubles had been raging on our door step for near on seven years. Which is exactly half our entire existence by the time 1976 came knocking on our doors. All we knew were the troubles so…. It’s understandable; is it not, to say we knew no better? For all we knew or even cared about for that matter was, it was normal, how the rest of the world lived and really, it’s not as if our only connection with the outside world, being the television set, was telling us any different.

Remember Vietnam and all the other terrorist atrocities that were happening in and around the world. So once again I say; what the fuck were we to know? The life style we were forced to endure wasn’t exactly designed to stimulate our hearts and minds towards peace and love in anyway, nor was it pointing us in a “perfect direction” that’s for sure.

The bottom line is; we had no interest in the outside world, simply because there was nothing out there - to draw us in and like I said earlier, those on the outside, didn’t exactly want to interact with a society that could put their lives in danger at any given moment but I can assure you, all that was about to change.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

 

Chapter 6
Untitled Document

First sighting

We would have had no idea as to what life outside Northern Ireland pre 76 was like and I am not going to pretend that we did. We will let the armies of day dreamer's living in fantasy world do that for us. I myself can only go on what I have heard, such as, those stories told by the John Lydon’s the Joe Strummer’s and the Billy Idols of this world. Again, you should know as well as I, the list goes on with very little or no alteration between their stories and you know it’s true. Each and every one of them, time and time again telling the same tales of woe. No doubt, you have probably seen all the films and documentaries, seen and heard all the interviews yourself, I know I have but you know what? I didn’t fall for their bullshit then and that’s probably why I am not going to listen to the bullshit being spouted about by our own local wannabe hero’s.

When Rotten & Co were speaking of their hard times back in London 74 - 75 - and 76, they weren’t speaking on behalf of the Geordie Kids, the Birmingham Kids or the Glasgow Kids. The same goes for all those kids in any other English town, city or village they may have come from. Whereas, I know what it was like for the Kids in Belfast, more importantly, I know what life was like for me and my two mates.

I can remember what it was like to roam the streets of East Belfast at night. I can quite easily recall the dangers, the same way as I can still see the crowd of lads we grew up with, as clear as a day. Still there “hypothetically” impersonate the Tartan gangs from the road and you know what? It makes me laugh just as much today as it did all those years ago. To think of them standing there, loitering on street corners always well within the secure surrounding of the estate in which we lived and, of course, well out of sight of all the other rival gangs. Now don't think I am not being cruel or bitchy by saying this, I say this because I can, because I know what the outcome would have been if ever they were confronted by any of those gangs. You see; I myself once fell victim to a rival gangs at the tender age of just fourteen. A day I will never forget, not just because I got the shit kicked clean out of me, but because I stood my ground and all those so call friends of mine ran and left me!

You know what……. When that happens you quickly realize who your true friends are, who can and can’t be trusted......I know for a fact, Ken and Gus would never have left me nor I them. I guess that was the main reasons why we saw ourselves as being different back then. It certainly was a good enough reasons to distance ourselves from the so called “Belmont Tartan”.

Then, of course, there are the more obvious and down to earth reasons. Their hobbies, their favourite past times, their weekly highlight, which was to attend the Blue Lamp Disco’s that were run every Thursday night by the RUC. Again I can still picture it! A church hall full of teenyboppers, each and every one of them, with their hopes and expectations riding high on the slim possibility of a quick snog and a sly grope of a tit, which I am sure would have brought their night to a satisfying end. At least it would have given them all something to talk about, among themselves, on their way home but if I am being honest with myself, it was their choice of fashion.

You see “Roller mania” had taken Belfast by storm a year or so before and virtually every dickhead in the city was dressing just like the famous five. I guess that’s when we truly realized we no longer had anything in common with the lads from the estate.... An understanding that came quite quickly. The understanding that we and they, were worlds apart and the closer we got to Christmas that year, well….It became even more apparent! It was them and us, we didn’t speak, we didn’t associate with them, and I am left with no doubt in my mind whatsoever, if it had've evercame on top, well…. we would have been on our own.

The facts are simple, we had started to move on while they chose to remain in that same old rut. In all fairness, we did have a slight advantage which came in the form of Ken’s older brother, Ronnie, who was a couple of years older than us but more importantly, he was light years ahead of us musically and already playing in a band that went by the name of Rudi. Who; as we now know, were playing regular gigs in pubs and clubs all over the place, in Belfast, Dundonald, Lisburn and even as far away as Larne, which is really not that far away but when you're fifteen it may as well been on the Moon.

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 7
Untitled Document

The Peel Show

To fully understand what that feeling was like, you would have to come from here, but as you don’t, well…. You will just have to take my word for it when I say, the last thing that I, we wanted to happen at that particular moment in time. Was to have any kind of disruption to come along and cause me, us the kind of distractions that could and did put my, our role in the band in jeopardy.

Let me try and explain how it all works here.

This opportunity had been a long time coming for all three of us and I am pretty sure that I can speak for the other two when I say. We could hardly contain ourselves with excitement. You see; we got to walk in Orange parades that we never knew existed. Parades such as the Whiterock. Which I can honestly say, is designed for the mentally insane, and only those who have ever walked that route, at the height of the troubles, will fully understand what I mean. The rest of you……. Will no doubt find it hard to believe, as did I my first time out? The only difference being, of course, we were there to witness it with our own eyes.

You got to understand; this wasn’t just any auld Orange parade where you would walk past a Catholic area, as we had done on many other occasions. Oh…… no…… This was an Orange parade that walked right through the Nationalist heartland of West Belfast, right through 'bandit' country, right through the middle of an IRA stronghold. Whatever you want to call it I can tell you, it’s an area where most Protestants wouldn’t want to find themselves day or night.

I guess the easiest way for me to explain this parade in simple laymen’s terms; would be for me to say, it’s pretty much like a white power movement marching through Harlem or the National Front forcing their way down Coal harbour Lane, Brixton. If you can imagine that, well then you should be able to imagine the Whiterock parade in all its full glory but don’t forget to multiply by at least ten fold and remember to add....The readymade arsenal of AK47 for that added bit of spice.

I kid you not, this is where the excitement began for real. For the next twenty – twenty five minutes or so, you almost come face to face with the hard core republican element who live on the Springfield Road. Angry people, who had been penned in like a herd of sheep by the British Army. Who had placed thirty ton trucks at the end of each and every side street. Each truck had at least, what, a twenty foot high screen attached to the side. Their plan was simply, to keep the navies at bay, and it worked but still their anger could be heard and their hatred felt.

Believe me, it was frightening but at the same time it was exhilarating but there again, on the down side, there was nowhere to fucking run, if things were to go horribly wrong. Not with Republicans on one side of the road and to the other. In full view for all to see, you had that famous old landmark which still stands today and is known to the local, as the West Belfast peace wall. A crude, yet an effective method, used by the Belfast city council to divide the two rival fractions and there we were, right smack bang in the middle....

Before I continue I would like to make it clear that I am not ashammed to say this. Although I am pretty sure that the majority of people who have ever walked this route won’t actually want to admit to it, but you are shitting yourself. From the moment you pass through those peace gates at Ainswoth Avenue, the point when the crowd following you are stopped dead in their tracks by the security forces. Honestly; from then on in, even though this may sound a little silly, because you’re not really but still, you somehow feel alone.

Believe me, that feeling stays with you untill you see the protestant people of the Highfield estate clapping and cheering, as if they are welcoming you home with open arms, so to speak. That’s when you know you’re safe, but before then, those twenty five minutes or so leading up to that moment believe you me. You are well aware of your surroundings as well as the dangers that surround you. Now knowing that, would you believe me if I was to tell you, it's one of those adrenaline rushes you most definitely don’t forget in a hurry, because you really don’t.

The Whiterock was then followed by a weekend away in Glasgow for the Scottish Twelfth; again it wasn’t until that year that we found out such parades existed in Scotland. Yet another surprise; yet another childhood experience to tell the grandkids I suppose, and it was. If only you could see it through my eyes. I was fifteen years old and on the piss for three days, with no one telling me what to do. I – we, the whole fucking band were being treated like Royalty by the locals and on top off all that, we had young girls throwing themselves at us. Now tell me: what normal red blooded male in their right fucking mind wouldn’t want to be in a Loyalist Flute Band, answer me that question for fuck sake? To say the summer holidays of that year were unbelievable would be the understatement of a life time but to take your mind away from these sectarian stories. Let me leave you with a thought, it’s what followed those summer months that really fucked my head up and at the same time turned my life around!

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

s

 

Chapter 8
Untitled Document

The Filth and the Fury

Now I am not trying to suggest in any way that we were the only ones in Belfast who listened 'religiously' to the John Peel show, nor was it just us three of us reading the likes of NME, etc. Of course there were others out there, our problem was, we just didn’t know them, apart from Big Ron that is. The truth is, we were totally unaware that this sub cultural movement attracting our undivided attention had actually made its way across the Irish Sea, dare I say it but if we had known that at the time, well……… Things just might have turned out to be quite different. I guess that goes to show you just how naïve, and blinkered our lives were back then. I mean; how the hell we didn’t twig on much sooner is totally beyond me, especially when you see all the facts were laid out before us.

Such facts as; I lived just six doors away from Ronnie Matthews, I ran about with his younger brother Ken; meaning, I would have been in their house most days of the week. I knew Ronnie, I seen him almost every day but did that aide my progress in any way, no did it fuck. Then; there’s the fact that we all lived in the same area, roamed the same streets night after night, convinced; that we knew those streets pretty well, which basically turns out to be a complete and utter joke when you think about it.

To think; we actually believed that we were street wise, all clued up as to what was going on around us. Well, you would think at least in our own back yard but oh no, not us. What it really boils down to, is the fact that we didn’t know who was who or what was what ………. That’s right. The facts are as clear as day. We hadn’t a fucking clue that all this was actually happening right under our noses. In such places as the Glenmachan 'Stables' Hotel and let’s not forget the good old Girton Lodge. Which is bad considering, there were people younger than us in county Antrim claiming they had heard of these places, but can you really believe that for Christ sake?

I mean these two venues were less than two miles either side of where we lived, more or less on our own door step for fuck sake? Never mind the fact that something of great importance good actually have been happening up there. It’s the fact that we didn’t even know these places existed, but there again it wouldn’t have mattered if we did; No, because for one, we were far too young to have gained access and secondly, even if it had have been possible for us to get into those venues there was no way our parents would have agreed to us going, well….I know mine wouldn’t have that’s for sure.

You know…. It eludes me to think that we were that close but yet so far away. I mean; how the hell did we miss out not knowing big Ron and all his mates had been dabbling in this secret world and may I add, had been for quite some time, but in our defence, how were we to know? I mean; it’s not as if they were dressing up at every given opportunity or that they were dying their hair all sorts of weird and wonderful colours. To be fair; he - they didn’t really stand out from the crowd at first and even if they did, it still wouldn’t have mattered……

Like I said; back then, they didn’t talk to us. Christ listen to me; if that’s not underestimating the situation then I don’t know what is? The actual truth of the matter is, we would have been lucky if we even got the occasional grunt in passing.

At the time; all we knew was, he, they were playing in a band and that band was gigging locally. I told you how we used to stand outside YKOP on those cold winter nights, watching, listening as they rehearsed but when it came down to those actual gigs we didn’t get told about them. There was never any mention; of when, where or you’re on the guest list tonight lads. Believe me; we had to wait some time for that privilege to come along. In the meantime; we were left in limbo, getting excited but at the same time very unsure as to what we were actually meant to be getting excited about.

We would often wonder as to whom, if any, had been caught up in this same web as we but we never once put the two together. There again, I suppose the reason behind that; was because we were far too busy searching for what was already staring us straight in the face. Big Ron six doors away, Joss Cochrane, Alan Revel and Paul Stockman etc. etc. etc. All those Young Americans trawling the suburban street were we lived, I mean what else was needed for us to realize that Punk Rock was already here in Ulster.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 9
Untitled Document

Caroline Music

Whether you had been involved at the very start or maybe you were just like me and my two mates. By that I mean, that you too had stood on the outside looking in. well - if you can honestly put yourself in either of these two categories, then you should be agreeing with me when I say that was one hell of a way end to the year. A little bit of scandal with a shit load of controversy but more to the point. Here in Ulster, although we were totally unaware of it at the time but still. It was to cause yet another split within this, an already ‘bitterly’ divided society, which ironically……would see the two sides being drawn even closer to one another.

When you think about it; that's pretty much what was needed, the crucial ingredient to stem the flow of hatred which the entire population of this country had been nurturing for far too long. As for the three of us, well…… Like I said, our lives had been slowly changing for some time but come December '76'. That’s when we really started to notice the dramatic change taking control of our lives. A change that would see the three of us heading off in a totally new direction and personally, I don’t think we could have asked for a better ending – start….“Call it what you like” to the year!

Picture the scene. Three confused fifteen year’s olds fast approaching the festive season, a time when families get together. We exchange gifts with one another and, of course, it's a time when we celebrate the birth of Christ. Well, if you were to roll back the hands of time just a few weeks earlier, then yes…. I too would have been looking forward to that normal family Christmas but as a result of that explosive start we had at the beginning of December, well….Me, life, fuck listen to what I am saying. Everything as far as I was concerned had changed. So please; don’t take this the wrong way but I really couldn’t have cared less about Christmas that year. I mean; it not as if Santa was about to bring to me the new 'The Ramones' album, like he did for a certain bass player in Londonderry.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know the Ramones album had been released in the UK at that time, but I do know, through research. It never appeared in the UK charts any time during 76, which means. If it hadn’t charted, then you weren’t getting it anywhere in Northern Ireland. Again this is a fact and if need be the evidence to confirm this can be produced. You only have to ask the likes Kyle Leitch or Robin Brown both formally of Caroline Music. Both, who I know will gladly back me up on this one, happily proving my point for me!

Ah well….. How does that song go? “Teenage Kicks” are hard to find? Well if you ask me, it all sounds as though there were a few vivid imaginations in play up on the North coast or was it all just show for the TV cameras? Ah boys will be boys, although quite a few of them can turn out to be real wankers but who am I too judge.

The truth is we had struggled and stumbled our way through 76 and that’s with all the obvious signs staring us straight in the face but as we all should know by now, life was never meant to be simple. So even with all the clues lined up in front of us, the only thing we were really sure off at the time, was the fog was slowly starting to lift. Finally a light at the end of a very long tunnel was slowly starting to appear, but you know, after all said and done, there were still quite a few questions that needed to be answered and I dare say many more just like me, like us, were asking those very same questions? with the first up I guess being ……. What secrets did the New Year have in store for us?

Well…. as we entered the year of 77. I am pretty sure the last thing the Great British public wanted or needed, was to be nursing the unwanted hangover from the previous year but as we all know; that’s exactly what they got. As for the three of us; well……1976 quickly drifted back into the mist of yesteryear, it had suddenly become a distant, but never to be forgotten memory. 77 was the year that produced all the fun and games.
Unfortunately, the un-expectant population of Ulster didn't see that way. You could say they were somewhat unprepared for what the future was about to in stow on them, which is understandable after all. A population still enthralled with the religious conflict surrounding them? Meaning, they were going to neither see the sights, nor hear the sounds that this new sub-culture had to offer.

A nation whose inhabitants were still trapped within the mist of their deluded past, locked in time and sadly for us. Still listening to the ghosts of their ancestors as they cried out for a ‘United Ireland’ while their adversaries screamed out, loud and clear those war cries of ‘No Surrender’ and ‘Remember 1690’.

This is what we were faced with, one tiny little Island sadly boasting two enemies who had been cast out from the same mould, meaning both were as equally afraid of change as the other but like I said. Unfortunately for them the year “1977” was the year of change. That was pretty much the beginning of the end for our darkened past, of the bloodshed and of the tears.
That life of misery which had been forced upon the people of Ulster was once again being challenged but for the first time in the history of this tiny little Island, the choice that was being offered in its place, was about to be taken seriously. A choice that would make way for a new generation, a generation full of hope and imagination. Bringing with it, Youth with a vision and with that vision came that much needed expectation, which was essential for this little country of ours to move forward. You can believe it or not but I am talking about a generation who would eventually open up the doors that would one day lead to a much brighter future and by Christmas 1976, it was starting to make sense to me.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters already writen, although they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 10

Coming of age

So, we are all agreed. The sole purpose of those early trips into town were indeed, to find and buy the records we were hearing on the Peel Show. Well now I get to tell you – we were also quick to suss out they weren't only the things there on offer. Granted, Caroline music was the centre of attraction and no matter how much praise I give to that old shop, and those two edgits who ran it. The truth is - it was merely the tip of the iceberg. Like I said.... it didn’t really take us that long to realize there was so much more for us to discover.

As I have already pointed out, Caroline Music was much more than just a record shop. It was a meeting place for likeminded people, who were, or simply wanted to be different but at the same time they all shared that one thing in common. You must know a friendly atmosphere will always leads to strangers sharing their conversation with one another, this being the normal way in which friendships usually start.... and it was no different were we were concerned either. The more we attended, the more we got to know the ones who would frequent the shop on a regular basis. While there were those who liked or just wanted to be secretive. There were others who were more than willing to share their stories with us. It was they, the one spreading those rumours who intrigued the three of us the most and I can tell you.... The things you can learn while ‘eary wigging’ on the conversations of others.... can be amazing but at the same they can be a bit misconstruing.

That's why I say, I am not a 100% sure if it was there, in Caroline Music, that we first heard the stories of the Viking and of the Young American’s. Or whether it came through our usual source, you know Big Ronnie via Ken, but I can tell you. Such stories would circulate and quite frequently too among the Caroline congregation. What we heard, usually turn into a topic for discussion on our way home. Although I will admit, we did get things wrong from time to time. For a long time we actually believed those rumours, the stories we had overheard were about the Viking in Church Lane, not the legendary Venue in Bangor.

If I am to be honest, then I would have to admit, we hadn't even heard of the Bangor scene, let alone the location of this mysterious venue that was being spoken off. There again, this mistake was an easy enough one to make considering the two locations, meaning the Viking in Church Lane and Caroline Music in Anne Street, were merely a stone's throw away from one another.

I am now aware that by the time we had gotten round to visiting Caroline Music. The Viking was coming to - if not - had already reached the end of its era but still this mysterious venue, around that time, was being spoken off. Today; those telling the stories of the Viking, still hold the old place in the highest esteem. In their hearts and minds 'the Viking' has been immortalized and many still see it as the true birth place of the Ulster Punk scene but back then we weren't to know all that. We were three teenage boys in search of our new found love, those elusive records we so desperately craved. So without even knowing anything about it, we had innocently found ourselves right bang in the middle of things. The place where this story had actually first began.

From that very first time, all those years ago, to this very day. For me; there has always been something different, something special about where Church Lane meets Anne Street. Walking around that same area today, you’ll find that not a great lot has changed. It still has the same handful of tiny little shops, on the same little street, situated right on the edge of Belfast’s once “infamous” ring of steel. They may have different owners, some may even have different functions but sadly, the thing that is really noticable, is there’s also a different aura about the place today. Although thankfully, the security gates have long since gone, but so too has 'Image'. The hair dressers where those early experiments with colours and cuts first took place. There is no more Viking to inspire those future generations, sadly replaced a long time ago, by a betting shop of all things and, of course. There is no more “Caroline Music”.

We have this computerized world in which we live, with its modern day progression that we all so desperately crave to thank for that. Ah yes, progress has seen the demise of record sales, as now the download takes control of things in that department. The irony of all this has seen the expansion of a fashion bouquet that once stood quietly beside Caroline Music for so many years ‘virtually unnoticed’. So yes; the old place does looks the same, it's simply lost its spark. This once vibrant corner of Belfast no longer possesses the imagination that once produced those creative minds who dared, and cared to be different. Without Image, the Viking and Caroline Music; all that's left are the memories of a select few.

Many of whom, may well see the ghost of their colourful past each and every time they pass through this area but the rest of us won’t and as I said earlier, they are only a select few. As far as everyone else in this City, the Country, no let's push the boat out here and tell it how it really is. As far as the entire world is concerned. No one, apart from them, knows nothing of what happened here. Not a word, of those creative and inspirational individuals who once lit up the streets of Belfast has ever been spoken off ever since. So do you not think, it's about time, you agree with me in saying? It would be a real sin for us to simply let those memories simply fade away and die…. They were important times for us back then, but the more I probe the more I convinced myself, they could really prove to be even more important times for this tiny little island right now, who knows what the future could bring, once the truth is known?

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 11
Untitled Document

The Change

Well, I can definitely say without any doubt in my mind whatsoever. That - wasn't exactly the way I had imagined my first day of working life to start; that's for sure. I mean; the very thought of having to deal with those two mad fuckers, first thing in the morning, on my very first day and at such a young age too. I ask you - could you imagine yourself in that situation?

I bet if you could you would then agree with me when I say. That would have been enough to send anyone over the edge, never mind little old me. A neurotic teenager who was struggling to cope with this new personality crisis that I had slowly started to develop from deep inside. You know; sweet sixteen, balls not long dropped and with a voice that was only starting to break, and not long after discovering that my cock wasn't only for pissing with.
No doubt you'll remember me saying; I was a nervous wreck as I entered my new environment that morning. Petrified I think was the word I'd use but I can honestly say, I never once envisage myself being traumatized by the situation. Albeit in a good way but still, traumatized all the same. I don't know – but could that have been the reason why my life has never been the same ever since, what do you think?

Seriously; put all jokes aside. It’s when you look at in the clear light of day or rather in 37 years’ after the fact. You know; once you have developed a more mature and stable mentality. Then and only then you can appreciate the true importance of it all, then you realise it was actually the right kind of wakeup call that was needed. I mean let’s face it, for 12 months I had dreamt, I had eagerly awaited for this day to come along. Then when it had happened, in a mad sort of way it seemed to put everything into perspective. My views; my beliefs had been for a while, slowly changing but I can honestly say, after that explosive encounter with Misère Murray and Hans, nothing else seemed to matter. Really; as far as I was concerned, you could have been Black - Brown - Pink - Green or even Purple with Orange spots.

It was time to face the facts. I’d been buying the records and reading all about it in my weekly addition of the NME for some time. I had even seen the proof with my own eyes, albeit from a distance but now I was actually working with the ones who were popping up, all over the place, from time to time. Don't you think that a bit strange, a coincidence maybe. There again, they do say certain things in life are meant to be and I think; no. I know that this was one of those moments. I guess you could say, even though I had been following this phenomenon for some time now. The 18th July 1977 was my true starting point.

That was the day I embarked on the roller coaster ride of a life time, an adventure with all the frills and spills, the excitement and the dangers all rolled into one, that's for sure. I’m not going to tell no lies, after sitting on the fringes for so long, I wasn't about to miss out on anything else, any longer. Believe me; that long wait was over and I was now prepared; I was ready to embrace those changes with open arms. Although, with all roller coaster rides, I was also prepared for a lot of twists and turns as well as the many ups and downs I would face along the way.

Settling into life at Charlie Hurst thereafter became quite easy I guess, it actually turned out to be a whole lot of fun now I think about it. I don’t know exactly why it was but those two headers took to me. Not forgetting the fact, they also took the piss out of me and quite often too but we became friends almost instantaneously. It was me asking all the questions, with them filling in all the gaps, telling me stories of the Viking and the Trident, wetting my appetite for even more.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 12
Untitled Document

Paddy Lambs

As you should all know by now, there are plenty of arseholes out there prepared to make up stories. Those who claim to have been at a certain place, at a certain events that have took place many years ago but when the truth is known. They’re either not old enough or were simply elsewhere on the planet and I for the love of me can't understand why. You’ll usually find these stories began life after hearing a few sentences or in many cases just a few simple words across a crowded bar long after the event had taken place. Making it true what they say, that history can be dangerous in the hands of the revisionist and we are all to blame for Christ sake. You see; we all make it so easy for these idiots, simply by not questioning them and I am not talking about those who stretch the truth a little bit. Which we have all done at some point in our lives. I am talking about the fools who take it to the extreme and I ask you, where does it get them? Surely they all get caught out sooner or later or am I wrong!

You have got to ask yourself, were their lives really that boring they have to invent to impress? I don't know; I have always maintained throughout, it doesn't matter when, how or why you got involved in Ulster Punk scene. It's the fact that you took the time and made the effort that counts. Although at the same time, I can fully understand the reasoning behind these lies and I can also see just how easy it would be to get carried away. First you bend the truth just a little, the next thing you know, you're in too deep and your life becomes wrapped around the lie - lies you're telling. You get to the point were you tell the your story time and time again, before you know it, you actually start to believe the lies you are telling to be the true.

When you reach that stage, well there's simply no turning back and you know if we wanted, we could all be like that. That's if our own lives were as shallow and meaningless as theirs! Just to prove my point; I will tell you a tale were I claim to have been at Highway Star's last - Stiff Little Finger first gig, same band only less hair. The gig itself is arguably the first Punk gig ever to be held in Ulster. I say - arguably the first, because the Undertones claim they were the first. Although they're not sure as to when or where that first gig was played and get this. They didn't even have a name, which kind a makes me think - believe, they're talking shite and really, it wouldn't be the first time. I am just wondering if they played any covers by Ramones, the night they can't remember as to when or where it was. I suppose they can't even remember what they played, which would make sense, don't you think.

Then you have the Outcasts who, at that time, wouldn't have really seen Stiff Little Fingers as a Punk band and I would have agreed with them on that one, well back then I would have. Therefore; technically speaking the Outcasts would be able to claim first scalp but then I come along and spoil the party, because I know that Rudi were the first. Whichever way you wanna see it, at this stage it is irrelevant. The point I am trying to make is, the gig took place at Paddy Lamb's, on the Upper Newtownards Road, in East Belfast on the 16th August 1977. Which incidentally was the same day Elvis Presley died.

I’ll be honest with, although it was only around the corner from where I lived. I wasn't there but who the fuck is going to contradict me. Who? When most believe that I was around from the very start, many saying I was the first Punk they had ever seen. Which suggest to me that they obviously went around with their fucking eyes closed tight. Although in saying that, most would have known the area from which I came from, therefore there would be no cause to doubt me. The fact that I have heard all the stories from the night in question; I believe would enable me to pull the wool over most people’s eyes. Stories told by two of the original members of Rudi. Who are; my big mate Ronnie Matthews and there loveable drummer, also a very dear friend Grimy – ‘Graham Marshall’. I have been there when they have taking the piss out of ‘Youngsie’ Brian Young. Who, the story goes, had complained all night long over the fact they were playing cover versions but he never once complained they were playing those covers almost note perfect. Oh no, that's not what this tale is about, not by a long shot.

You see, the story has it; Youngsie wanted to hear Jet Boy by the New York Dolls and being a big Dolls fan he had requested this song several times during the course of the evening. Song after song he would shout out at the top of his voice “Jet Boy - the New York Dolls” and from what I am told. Jake Burns being the budding young professional he was. Tried his damnedest to ignore him, to block out these rants but Young Brian was having none of it. Now you can ask anyone who was there that evening, as they would have been well aware of Brian persistence. He was adamant; he wanted to hear Jet Boy and not willing to give in, he continued with his ranting and raving.

Those involved believe, and Youngsie has since then admitted to me in person. Admitting he was under the impression that Jake couldn't play the song, or better still, he simply didn't know who the Dolls were. This being the sole reason why he hurled abuse in the general direction of the small stage and at Jake in particular. As we all know, there is only so much one man can take and finally the poor guy broke. Forced to give in to Youngies whims, Jake broke into the introduction of Jet Boy and from what I have been told, played it to perfection. Some say, you would have thought Johnny Thunders himself was in Paddy Lamb’s, which I am sure you can all imagine, sort of left young Brian speechless.

The moral of this story I guess you could say; just a little bit of Jet Boy is all it took to sooth young Brian’s aggression, well it did that night, and as you can probably imagine. The rest of the night passed of peacefully, with no further incidents occurring.

As I said I wasn't there that night but I was the following week when the Outcasts came to visit and believe me, tha was a night to remember!

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 13
Untitled Document

The Glenmachan

There was me thinking I could simply walk among these people; those who had inspired me for near on a year. Actually believing that I would stand out from that crowd, I mean, what on earth was I thinking? I guess on receiving my invite, I had convinced myself that I could simply use the Glenmachan as my stage, a podium from where I would launch myself at the Belfast Punk scene. Well I can tell you; there is no doubt the intent to impress was there but I now find myself asking the question. If I had’ve known then what I now know; would I still have been so full of myself?

Well I guess that is something we will never know. All jokes aside, regardless of the facts; that the outcome didn’t actually turn out the way I had planned it. It certainly didn't pan out the way I had seen it in my head, that’s for sure.

Honestly; despite the weeks of preparation, added with the new found confidence from working in Charles Hurst, which I must confess, did lead to the constant annoyance to my follow work colleagues, to be there on the night and, of course. I can’t forget the countless hours spent, locked away in my bedroom, as I tried to get to grips with my mother’s old sewing machine. Making, fucking up, altering, fucking up again and then re-altering the clothes intended for the Glenmachan….

As I said, I had not long turned sweet sixteen and I had an imagination that was running wild, which I suppose you would put down too much excitement at such a young and naive age. Something which I guess, I hope, has happened to us all at some stage in our lives.

Looking back; I do vaguely remember someone saying back then that Teenage Dreams were hard to find? Well fuck me pink, I had no problems. If the truth be known; the days, the weeks leading up to the day, the night in question. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I became obsessed and I'll tell you no lies. I had created this vision in my own head were I saw myself; my arrival, my grand entrance at the Glenmachan, where I was the star attraction.

I kid you not! I had built myself up so high that a fall was inevitable. That - full blown fireworks display which I had envisaged so clearly in my head, actually turned out to be nothing more than a damp squib in all honesty. My intentions of arriving at the spot where C S Lewis wrote ‘the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ and turn heads, sadly backfired in my face to say the least and at this point you probably can tell. I definitely didn’t ruffle any tail feathers that’s for sure, but you know what. It was still one hell of a night to remember and without any doubts, will be joining that very long list of nights never to be forgotten.

Partly because of the build-up, and partly due to the fact that I worked with some of the main movers and shakers and they were all going to there but really and truthfully. When I look back, I can honestly say with confidence, it was all down to my old man with his military background and his old fashioned morals.

You know I can laugh about it now, but back then... There’s only one word that can describe the feeling I got as my dad’s car pulled up outside the front doors of the Glenmachan and, of course, that dreadful moment as I stepped out for all to see. “Embarrassment”.

Honestly; I really can’t ever remember being so humiliated either before or after. As we pulled up, straight away I seen Billy and Freddy standing at the door and when they clocked me. Well, I am sure you can imagine the kind of reception I was given? If not i'll tell you. They began shouting and cheering here comes Davy Rotten, the pet name I was given at the end of my first week at work.Yeah, it was that Friday, not long after I received the ritual greasing of thee auld bollocks. I do believe it was down to continuous sarcasm and drudgery remarks made to and about them as they slapped the grease around my balls. Although they may well tell you a different story.

That night at the Glenmachan, I guess they may have seen as some kind of pay back, who knows? All I know is, I was cut to the bone and I remember at that precise moment in time, turning and glaring at my old man. Well I can tell you, if looks could kill my old man would've been gone at that moment.
Needless to say I was greeted by my two fellow work mate’s, one on either side, as they escorted me into the Stables and as they done so. They began asking all sort of embarrassing questions.

What happened to all this gear you were making Freddy barked in a jokingly but sarcastic manner. Then Billy suddenly remembered, he asked ‘where’s the sliver dye’ which I had bought for my hair, and I foolishly replied ‘it’s in my pocket’. Talk about putting your foot in it....
They began searching me the way British Soldiers would do in the city centre. Once the tin of coloured hairspray was found, Billy suggested that they would help me, taking the hair spray he said they would Punk me up. Throughout entire process, he reassured me that I would blend in and that I would look like one of them. Yeah right. They honestly wanted me to believe that a tin of silver hair spray would make all the fucking difference?

Huh; well let me take just a moment of your time here to explain the situation. I, was dressed in a pair of drain pipe jeans, a white cap sleeve T Shirt with a black Harrington Jacket and a pair of Electric blue winklepickers. Yes, I did look different from the norm but for fuck sake. Standing there before me was Freddy Hans dressed in a bondage suit bought from 'Sex;' and a pair of brothel creepers from the same shop. Do you remember what his hair looked like, black with a ‘Pink’ lightning bolt along one side with a bright ‘Yellow’ streak on the other. Then there was Billy, also head to foot in ‘Sex’ gear what else, a bright red ’ zip T Shirt and red zipped trousers, and, of course. his get up included a similar pair of brothel creepers as Freddy and we better not forget the fire engine Red hair. For fuck sake; the pair of them stuck out like a part of sore thumbs, so tell me, how the fuck was I supposed to blend in?

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 14
Untitled Document

The Idiots

The Idiots were a four piece band formed in east Belfast at the end of August 1977, after some drunken discussions during a Rudi gig at the Glenmachan Stables. The three main culprits were “Barry Young, the younger brother of Rudi guitarist Brian Young‘’ who was the only one who sort of knew how to play Guitar”. The other two were well known Punk’s around town Gordy ‘fangs albert’Owens, Name so because of his lack of front teeth, on Drums, and Dee Wilson who could play the flute, (not that would helped him in the Idiots) on Bass Guitar. All that was need was someone who could at least remember the words; it didn’t matter if they could sing or not, after all it was Punk Rock. Finally that post wasfilled a few days later by Stephen Harvey, a school friend of Barry’s.

With an average age of just fifteen, Dee being the oldest, just turned sixteen, meant that the Idiots were the youngest band on the circuit at the time. Dee Wilson explains “ We were initially inspired by serious amounts of Old English Cider and Drawbridge wine, the latter not being the nicest of beverages but it did the trick back then, the 70’s version of Bucky (Buckfast) “.

Soon the band were rehearsing in such salubrious surroundings as each other's homes, which, given the title of their one and only single ‘Parents' is quite ironic. While they occupied their parent's front rooms, driving them mad with their racket, Barry had begun to pen the lyrics of the song. The idiots also rehearsed in a building in the grounds of Stormont courtesy of Dee 's father.

Dee recalls how is dad helped the band “ My father worked for a Government Security firm and at weekends or Public Holidays, while he was doing over time the Idiots would entertain him and his fellow work mate's at the Stormont premises which he gained access for us. He even on one occasion stood in as road crew, as did Ronnie Matthews's dad for Rudi, God bless them”.

Dee again “ Rehearsals and gigs were never really taken too seriously at first. They were just an excuse for a rake, or a piss up, or whatever else would turn up, which could mean anything with the Idiots. The rehearsals usually took place at Stephen Harvey's house, which meant all sorts of mayhem would occur as Stephen's mum was never at home most of the time due to her work load. So rehearsals became a whole different ball game in Harberton drive. A lot of raking went on to say the least. The fact Stephen had a little sister at just the right age made matters worse. I was always disappearing with, quite often for long periods of time! I think this was the main reason why Stephen left the Idiots. I think his aim was to protect his little sister from me but I knew where she lived and she liked me (foolish girl) so his efforts were all in vain”.

The idiots soon built up a set consisting entirely of cover versions such as, Ulster Boy, Angels with Dirty Faces, Janie Jones, Sweet Jane and the one cover that they made their own “Teenager in Love”. Their rendition of the song later became the title track of the John T Davis movie Shell Shock Rock.

Their debut gig, in pure Idiot fashion, was gate crashing a Rudi Gig at the Arts Collage in Belfast York Street , the Gig was headlined by Rudi with the Flying Squad and Pretty Boy Floyd and the Gems as support. The Idiots entirely didn't see the other support acts as Punk's, so they decided to gate crash the gig, backed by the members of Rudi and armed with Rudi's instruments. However, this impromptu appearance only lasted for one song. Dee Wilson takes up the story “ We ‘played' a cover of Lou Reed's Sweet Jane and for some strange reason, vocalist Stephen Harvey walked of stage at the end of the track. No one knew why he walked of the stage after just one song, but I believe it was because his little sister had arrived with a few of her little punk mates, and of course this distracted me. I then turned to Gordy and said that's me getting my whole tonight. Now I did't think he would have heard me but Stephen he did and obviously he wasn't happy that I was abusing his little sister, like I said, he did try to be protective”.

 

This is an extract from the Sean O'Neil & Guy Trelford book "IT MAKES YOU WANNA SPIT" - published 2003 by Rekus Reecords .

This Chapter is yet to be written, as they say always keep the best to the last :

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

 

Chapter 15
Untitled Document

The Trident

There is nothing for us in Belfast, the Pound so old it’s a pity, OK there's the Trident in Bangor then you walk back to the city.

I can honestly say; out of all the songs ever written during that period by any of Northern Irish bands. Alternative Ulster by Stiff Little Fingers, was, and probably still is the only one, that I know off anyway, to have mention the Bangor scene and it's a shame really, considering that's where it all began. I also think it's a pity none of the Bangor bands never mentioned the Young Americans. At least then we would have had some kind of 'record' off those colourful headers who were known to the locals as the Quality Street Gang.

You know; every time I think of that name, not only does it have me creased up with laughter, it also has me wondering what the fuck did the people of Bangor actually think of those YA's when they were running about Bangor 73 - 74 – 75 and then there's the ‘Clockwork Orange’ before them. I do know but what was it with Bangor, the sea fucking air?

Over the past five years or so, I have heard untold stories regarding the Viking and the YAs. Bill Moore, the one time resident DJ, once told me the cue used to be right round the block, down Crosby Street onto Quay Street and the people used to drive pass the Viking God knows how many times. Just to see the Quality Street Gang cueing up outside the venue. Although out of all the stories I have heard, the one that sticks in my Head the most, is Big Greg Keys story. The one were he had to run down High Street in Bangor, from the car park behind what is now Jenny Watts, to the Viking. That meant having to run past the Helmsman, which was full of Spide’s and I do believe that also includes the Shankill Butcher 'Lenny Murphy' but get this, the big man is as camp as you like for starters and on that particular night he was dressed in a white wedding dress. You know, when ever I close my eyes and think of this story, I can almost picture him, all 6 foot and fuck knows how many inches tall dressed as a fucking bride. Now you have to remember, at that particular time, it was a little bit more than just ‘ frowned upon’ if you get my drift. Not only was it actually illegal here - in Northern Ireland to be homosexual, back then it was also very dangerous but did they care, did they fuck.

They lead the way, opening up doors for the likes of me. Making it easy for those wanting and willing to follow in their footsteps and I am sorry if this happens to ruin anyone’s illusion regarding the Belfast scene but as I have said time and time again. It wasn’t all about Terri Hooley, Good Vibrations and believe me, there was life long before the Harp Bar.

Sadly I never got the privilege of setting foot inside the Viking in its hay day. I did in the 80s, when it was then known as Sam’s and believe me. As you walked through the doors, into that main arena, you were met with this strange awareness. You sort of knew that something great had happened there. Now whether that's everyone’s feeling or whether it was just me or that it was limited to just those who knew or had at least heard off the Viking.

Whatever is was, it’s kind a hard to put an explanation into words. I guess you could say, it was a ghostly like experience, as though the spirits of those Young Americans were still present within that old structure. Even today that feeling; that aura’ can still be felt, well at least I still feel it.

Anyway, it's the closet I ever came to the Viking but when it comes to the upstairs lounge of Paddy Lambs. My first encounter with Alan and Alana Revel, the brother and sister double act from Ballyhackamore. Then, of course, my own induction to world of Punk Rock, which, of course, was kindly carried out by my old work colleagues 'Billy and Freddy' at the Glenmachan Stables.

All these wonderful moments lived out in a short lived yet hectic life span, which will never be forgotten but from time to time' they do get you thinking. Whereas back then, you didn't have time to think, everything seemed to come in short quick succession. You never had any time to prepare yourself, not even with the help of my new found contacts. Not even they could have prepared me for my first visit to Paddy Lamb’s and the Glenmachan. Simply because; each new event came with an entirely new experience bundled with a whole bunch of new surprises and believe me. Our first night at the Trident was certainly no exception to the rules.

Just getting there; and I don't just mean that first night but every night was exciting and, of course, without drama. A simple task of getting to the bus stop, safely. The bus journey itself and then finally that walk from Bangor bus station to the Trident, was a constant adrenaline rush pumping through your veins. I dare say most sixteen year olds would have been put off from ever going back again, after the first night expereince we had but not us, we couldn't wait to go back.

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 16
Untitled Document

Running the Gauntlet

By the end of August 1977 you could say.... the fuse had well and truly been lit.... Well, as far as the east of the city was concerned, it was. In areas such as Orangefield, Knock, Belmont and, of course, Dundonald, were it all basically began. Punk was slowly starting to show growth and was, by then, clearly visible on the suburban streets of East Belfast. Whereas before we would have seen the occasional header popping up from time to time. The sight of more and more kids sporting shorter hair and wearing straight leg trousers instead of the usual parallels (Baggie Trousers) with almost all displaying some kind of D.I.Y badge or two, of their favourite new Punk band pinned to lapel of their school blazer.

Now remember, by then, just like mainland Britain. The entire population of Belfast - Northern Ireland had more or less heard about the Sex Pistols, in this the Queen’s Silver Jubilee year. Most, if not all had at least heard of their rendition of the National Anthem. Those who had actually heard and liked it, rushed out, bought it and, of course, fell in love with it. Whereas those who didn’t, well I guess they didn’t really get the true meaning behind the song!

By then the Pistols, among other well-known bands to be, had already appeared on Top of the Pops and, of course. The National press were now writing freely about this, not so new, phenomenon. Basically what had started off as a hate campaign, was now turning out to be a very popular subject to write about. Although, I must stress, it still came with that same sense of hatred being detected between each and every line that was written. Oh; and one other thing, it was no longer limited to just London. Oh no; the whole of England was now in on the act, which sort of explains all the confusion regarding this period. Confusion which lead, now I am only guessing, to the likes of Sean O’Neil and Guy Trelford stating on the front cover of their own book ‘Makes you want to Spit’ book. It clearly says 'An Alternative Ulster 1977 – 1982' and then, of course, there’s Joe Donnelly’s remark in that same book “1977 - Year Zero” the summer of hate?

Now the summer of hate I will agree with but year zero, what on earth was he on about? OK, I will agree, by the time the end of autumn had come around. Or really I should say, just after that first visit of the Clash. Yeah by then, it had become blatantly obvious to all those who weren’t concerned before. That this thing they were calling Punk Rock across the water, had truly arrived here in Ulster. There's no getting away from that but to say, just because the people of West, North and the rest of Soth Belfast we now aware of Punk. Certainly doesn't mean the 20th October 1977 was the beginning, because let me tell you. Yes the word was out on the streets but believe me; it had been alive and kicking for some time! So I will repeat; by then it was slowly starting to show growth but there was still some way to go before it would be seen as acceptable.

Regarding the Summer of hate, well I don’t know whether or not it was those Daily Tabloids who had changed their tactic or whether it was just me taking a greater interest on what they had to say. Either way. Stories such as, Johnny Rotten getting his face slashed in a knife attack on the 21st June 77, along with others, had all arrived to these shores and if memory serves me. It was almost immediately, which indicates it was the national press that brought these story to us and not the usual MNE; and when I say we. I sadly include, just about every fucking spide’s, hoods, call them what you fucking like. It was us who had to face the fuckers on a daily basis. So Yes I can relate to the summer of hate, I fucking lived through it but year zero, Joe, are you having a laugh?

I guess this is the bit were I get to say, if you think it was bad in England, well let me tell ye, you’s all had it fucking easy

Yes - there may well have been some similarities, in that our English cousins would have also been at risk, and yes. They too would have felt threatened by those English thugs claiming to be Loyal, devoted to the Crown and the Queen of England but I can tell you right here and now. The threat that we were faced with, during those early stages of punk, are easily multiplied at least tenfold. Partly down to the kind of hatred that is usually generated by those who dared to be different and the kind seen by those fuelled by ignorance and confusion. If you add that to the fact, we had the Paramilitaries to contend with, well you might just understand the reality as to what we were actually up against.

To start off with, we had two entirely different sides to contend with. We had the Republicans and we had the Loyalist, altogether that was about eight different paramilitary groups. Now obviously the Republicans, being Anti - British, wouldn’t have been overly concerned. In fact they probably would have seen the funny side of “God Save the Queen”. Although they would have recognised it in a similar light as the Loyalist, in the sense, they too would have seen the concept behind it as anti-Monarchy. The difference being, the Loyalist really got upset about it because they really did, and still do, love their Queen.

Then of course there was the issue of the Union ‘fleg’ being defaced. Ripped up and put back together with safety pins, and as for the one through the Queens nose. Trust me; that didn’t go down to well on protestant side of the tracks.

I am not joking you; when ever the Paramilitaries come into the equation, things normally do get a bit messy and with the arrival of Punk Rock to these shores that’s exactly what happened. Not only did the Loyalists paramilitary see the Punk movement as being anti-establishment as they did on the mainland. To them, to be a Punk, be you Protestant or be you Catholic, meant you were anti-loyalist, anti-Protestant, in short. You were either a Republican or you were at least sympathetic to the Nationalist cause in their eyes, and there was little old me who had just left the UVF band for Christ sake.

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 17
Untitled Document

The Day the Worm Turned

To the vast majority living and working in Belfast - Northern Ireland, the day Thursday 20th October 1977 would have just been a like any other normal working day but the same cannot be said for the fifteen hundred or so, urban teenagers, who were planning to attend the Clash gig at the Ulster Hall that evening. For us, it was going to be one of the most memorable nights of our lives. Although I can honestly say as we all, yes all, dragged our sorry asses out of bed that morning we weren’t to know that. We weren’t to know the night we had been waiting for so long, wasn’t exactly going to go plan but yet. There are those who still maintain it was the most important night of their lives. The night that changed everything there after and who I am I to disagree with that. I am one of them!

Yes; I can hold my head up high and say, I was there, I saw it with my own eyes and I can tell you, it certainly wasn’t one of those night’s you forget in a hurry, nor will we experience anything quite like it ever again, that’s for sure, close maybe but not quite the same!

Personally; if you were to ask me, I would say. It was unlike any other, none trouble related, event that has ever to happen in this sorry excuse of a city, country of ours and for that reason, it should be recorded and documented. Just like all the other fuck ups caused by the narrow mind politicians of this country. If it was down to me, I would have it place in the history books for all to learn, so that these mistakes never happen again.

You know; you don’t have to take my word for it. You can go and ask any of the others who were there that night, they’ll tell you all about it, because in their eyes, their minds and in their hearts…. This is a night that needs to be remembered, it’s not to be brushed under the carpet, the way it has been by a bunch of sorry assed councillors who were to blame for this mess in the first place. People are still talking about that night to this very day, it’s even been given a name by the press for fuck sake. Albeit thirty years too late but still, it has been dubbed by the press here in Northern Ireland, as the Battle of Bedford Street but they still didn’t document it at the time. Just like the many hundreds and thousands of incidents that have happened in the past and all over this fucked up a country of ours, it too has left hell of a lot of controversy floating in the air as to what really happened outside the Ulster Hall that October night.

Take the amount of people, the fantasist, who claimed to have been there. Now that's a subject that really makes me laugh, simply because the Ulster Hall isn’t big enough to have hosted such a gig. Never mind being able to accommodate such a large crowd! Yet you’ve got stories of ones traveling from Derry – Londonderry and from fifteen year old kids living in county Antrim reminiscing about standing in front of the mirror in their house thinking to themselves, am I punk enough. For fuck sake stop it, please.... I ask you.... why do people do that? Were - are their lives really that boring that they have to, again I say, invent to impress?

You know, I would really love to sit down with these people and ask them.... If you were truly there that night, well then tell me.... WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED? Believe me, that’s when you would find out who the real story tellers are! Would those who were there be fidgeting.... would their eyes be rolling in their head from left to right and would they be stuttering, pausing and wrecking their brains as they looked for answers? No.... they would be telling it how it was, the same way as I am going to tell you….

Once again I repeat myself. Yes, I was there that night and I can tell you from my own experience as to what really happened. Believe me, it was as much unexpected as it was unforgettable but at the same time, it was as much enjoyable as it was fucking disappointing. For all the obvious reasons, it truly was a night full of fucked up emotions.... whatever way you look at it and no matter what anyone says. It should be fucking documented and let me point this out to you..... If it hadn’t have been for the police, for those thugs in uniform paid by the state.... the RUC! There would be photographs illustrating exactly what happened outside the Ulster hall that night. Something which I will explain in more depth, later in this chapter.

In the meantime; I have said it in the past, many times before, and I will say keep on saying it time and time again.... As far as I am concerned, the 20th October 1977, is as equally important as all the other unforgettable atrocities that has ever happened in Ulster. Yes you heard me, such as Bloody Sunday and Bloody Friday, La Mon House and Enniskillen, yes all the talked about, and all the known atrocities which have occurred here in Ulster throughout those troubled years. Granted the families of those victims won’t see that way but if only they took the time to sit down and dissect what I am saying.... Then maybe all those indivdual generations concerned will understand what I am mean!

Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone to take this the wrong way. I know people died and those poor people should and will never be forgotten. The same way as I know, those events, unfortunately, changed the lives of all those family members who were left behind. Although I ask you.... Just how many lives did those atrocities really affect? They affected me each and every time, of course, they did but they don’t affect me now. I remember the dead and what happened at each individual and I always will.... that’s as far as it goes.

Whereas the 20th October 1977, affected my life then and has done ever since! So that’s me, plus all others, which is close to possible 2000 people or so just like me.... who where all there that night. Then theres the ones who followed us, just like we followed those Young Americans. Then, of course, there’s all the kids, the grandkids that have been produced over the years. All who have followed in the footsteps of their parents, their grandparent's but that doesn't say they all turned out to be Punks. What I mean is.... unlike their parents the vast majority of them didn’t inherit that bitter streak. That I can assure you, was cast a side by my generation many years ago, but still they did carry on the family tradition, of no sectarian beliefs!

So tell me; after read this short paragraph what would your views on the subject be right now? What would your answer really be, if I asked you; as to which single event do you think has had the biggest impact on lives of those living in Northern Ireland during those troubled years? Would you think like me or would you not at least agree with me when I say, the 20th October 1977 should be documented right down to the very last details, recorded just like all the rest. After all it played a big part in our history!

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 18
Untitled Document

The Battle of Bedford Street

By seven o'clock that evening, the crowd outside the Ulster Hall had grown well past the fifteen hundred mark. It’s an image that I and I dare say the many others who were there that night will never forget! Kids from all over the city; scattered the length and breadth of Bedford Street, including the surrounding side streets which were, by then, crawling with kids, like I said, as young as fifteen.

If I am being truthfully honest, most of whom would've found by then, some tiny little alcove or another, just out of sight, in case the law turned up and confiscated their precious carry outs but on saying that. I wouldn’t want the thought of drink clouding over your opinions here. Yes, alcohol had been flowing that evening, but I can assure you, this army of underage drinkers were on their best behaviour and I mean each and every one of them. There were no groups. Not even a single solitary individual showing any sign of aggression. What I am basically trying to say is, there were no signs of the usual sectarian hatred. No flexing of muscles in any way shape or form, nor any attempts to show any kind of superiority and I know this maybe hard to believe, considering it's Belfast we are talking about but honestly, there was none of the usual bullshit that this city – country is renowned for.

It was quite the opposite, in fact from where I stood there was nothing more than a friendly party atmosphere filling the autumn air in Bedford Street that night. Anyone passing by would have seen that for themselves. These kids weren’t looking for trouble, although I will grant you, whenever you seen a crowd off this size gathering in the streets of Belfast, around that time. It does usually mean it is about to kick off and yes, there are those who say it did just that, but I myself, wouldn’t exactly agree with them.

These kids came to party; plus the majority of them where from middle class suburban families, they weren’t your typical ‘battle hardened’ Belfast teenagers. The kind which hail from war zones such as the Shankill or Falls Road, granted therer may have been ones from thoughs kind of area's but the majority of them certainly weren’t prepared for street war. Believe me, that wasn’t the kind of entertainment these kids were looking for! They were out to have a good time, to forget the political and religious situation that surrounded them, even though it was for one night only, but at least it was a start. So could no one see that?

So go on force yourself, try and imagine the scene. All those kids laughing and joking with one another, some were singing while others were being more boisterous, you know the kind. The ones, who are always shouting at the top of their voice, the ones always wanting to be seen and heard but even so, after all has been said and done. They were just doing what excited kids do best, they were enjoying themselves, having fun, something which the kids from this city hadn’t done for some time. That’s why I just can’t understand it? Why pull the plug, I mean did they really expect us to run riot to smash the place up?

It's a sight I will never forget, a t just sixteen years old I had never seen so many cans of beer, bottles of old English cider, Mundie’s and Drawbridge wine, you name it was there! I ask you; is it any wonder the atmosphere outside that famous old venue was electrifying. We were all having fun, no one had a care in the world, which again, is quite strange considering there were so many kids from so many different backgrounds and, of course, so many different areas. Catholic’s and Protestants, from gays and straights to 'hay little rich kids' mixing with middle and working class hooligans and like I said, with very few ever experiencing the troubles. Yet they were all gathered in one place at the same time and all with the same thing in common!

I think this is a good enough time to point out to our friends from outside Northern Ireland that here in Ulster, large crowds usually came with a shit load of police. Rewind the clock a few months earlier and I can remember going to away matches, travelling across town 5 – 600 strong, all full of aggression, waiting and wanting for it to all kick off with rival supporters. On those occasions there was usually one copper to every three supporters, but not this time and believe me; I have asked myself time and time again, as to why that was? I have thought to myself, could it simply have been a case, I was so wrapped up in all the excitement, in the atmosphere to have not even noticed them? For years I have wrecked my brain, I have thought long and hard about it but my answer has always been no they weren’t there. I have even asked the friends whom I went with and they have all said the same thing.
At the very start, there were no police presence, nor was there any sign of trouble brewing within this young crowd. So what was there problem, what made them come to such a hasty decision, to cancel that gig and at such short notice?

There were no army Landover’s, like Johnny Green put it, with the machine guns mounted on the back, this was Belfast not Beirut, and as for that kind gesture from the Clash, supposedly, handing out free badges? Well let me tell you, my mates and I were right outside the front doors, among the earliest to arrive. Yet we – I, what am I saying, no fucker seen anyone coming out with any badges nor any scramble.

The same goes for the army patrol and the spontaneous riot, they were all fabricated in Johnny Greens little head. Lies created in a hotel room probably, designed to point out how great he and the Clash were for coming to a war zone to entertain us poor deprived and ungrateful kids. Honestly; Phil Crossey, a journalist, working for the Newsletter and living here in Northern Ireland believed such crap, he used his quotes in an articale he wrote on the subject thirty years later. To me that is a sin, a sackable offence in my eyes and you call yourself a journalist.

Yes a few bottles and tins were thrown; I know that because I myself threw an empty bottle of Drawbridge which smashed against the exterior wall of the Ulster Hall, but to come off with. The kids went mad and started smashing all the windows in the venue is complete and utter bollocks. Let me tell you; if any windows were smashed, it would have been no more than one and the reason I say this with total confidence. Is simply because all the windows at the front of the Ulster Hall, back then, were all boarded up, to prevent any damage from the constant threat of explosions. In fact it’s only been recently, what in the past 10 years or so that those boards were taken down, so if they were boarded up how the fuck can you smash the fuckers?

Phil Crossey’s article in Belfast Newsletter 19th October 2007. http://www.newsletter.co.uk/news/battle-of-bedford-street-that-kick-started-punk-era-1-1860484

These extracts have been taken from first daft chapters, although they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they are most certainly part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details.

Chapter 19
Untitled Document

The Aftermath

The usual R U C tactics which have been used time and time again on the streets of Belfast, by our loyal serving police officers had failed. Their onslaught upon the young un-expectant crowd who had obstructed Bedford Street on the night in question, failed to have the desired effect. They tried but they couldn’t break us. The excitement had left us, that’s true but it was only to be replaced by anger. I can assure you, the will to protest had not been subdued by the heavy hand off the law. Even though the RUC had thought they won the battle, we knew they hadn’t and believe the war certainly wasn’t over.

My friends and I had seen this young crowd arriving, at first, in groups of four’s and five but we also seen them quickly dispersed in numbers. Down Side Streets and the back alleys leading away from the venue. To an outsider, I would agree, it may well have looked as though the spirit of this new revolution had been broken that the revolting army had simply turned and ran away but that wasn’t the case, oh no……… These kids weren’t running away they were merely regrouping to another location.

It’s only a short walk from the Ulster Hall in Bedford Street to the Europa Hotel, which meant it was only a matter of minutes before the entire crowd had re-grouped outside, the most bombed Hotel in the world. A monumental structure in Belfast, targeted on many occasions by the IRA but still she stands proud in total defiance on Belfast’s Great Victoria Street.

Just to have been there, to have been wrapped up in all that mayhem and to have seen all the drama unfold before my very own eyes. To have witnessed the sight of fifteen hundred or so young Punks all pissed up and each and every one of them pissed off with the cities authorities, was just overwhelming.

No one could have foreseen this happening, young Punks scattered all over the place, causing total mayhem and preventing everyone from getting in or out of the Europa Hotel, due to such a large crowd, cramped into such a small space. Those who tried, without any doubt, would have felt intimidated by this unruly mob and as you can imagine, it wasn't long before the enviable happen. Remember tensions among the crown was already high, well before arriving at this new location and just as it had happen on Bedford Street. Once again, the panic among the RUC officers slowly began to show and those heavy handed tactics of the law started to raise their ugly heads again. The difference being this time, ‘the RUC could not allow a repeat’ off Bedford Street to happen here, not on Great Victoria Street, the main southerly approach into the city.

After a while, the Clash did come out to speak briefly to the crowd, I was there, I seen them but I haven’t a fucking clue as to what they were saying. I do, however, remember seeing Strummer in deep meaningful conversation with those at the front. I even noticed a few smiles and laughs but it all happened so quickly. One minute they were there the next they were gone. As they turned to go back into the hotel. Whispers quickly spread among the crowd ‘they’re going to set up and play outside in the street someone said’. Quite a few actually believed it, whereas the most of us stood in hope.

Can you imagine that, I can because I know for a fact that the Clash had the balls to do such a stunt. You see, I was in London, on the Kings Road, two years later, the day Beaufort Market was forced to close. Rumours have it, the owners of Seditionaries’ and Boy were behind it. Now I can’t be sure as to how many Punks actually turned out that day on the Kings Road. 3000 – 5000, maybe more but I do know they were all there to see the Clash who said they would play on the roof top in support of Beaufort Market. The Clash were there, ready and willing. Their gear was set up, plugged in and all ready to go but sadly the London police; the old bill, quickly stepped in to ruin the party.

So think about it; if the Clash were prepared to play on the roof tops of London, why would the thought of playing in front of the Europa Hotel, in front of a few hundred dedicated fans, not have crossed their minds? Although the chances of it happening were pretty slim I know that now but when you’re fifteen or sixteen years of age, everything is possible, and it would have been one hell of a way to end the night, that's for sure

That was just one of the rumour that was quickly started that night, there were others but none more convincing than the possibility of the Clash playing at Queens. Where this rumour originated from I am not sure. It could have been this the topic of Strummer’s deep and meaningful conversation in front of the security barriers at the Europa Hotel or. It could have been started by the panic stricken police force, in an attempt to remove this peaceful disruption of the streets and away from the hotel. Either way, as the word spread through the crowd, who slowly started to disperse like worker ants in the direction of Queens University and, of course, escorted by the police. Hope was once again restored, smiles were seen on those young faces once more but sadly it didn’t last as we were once again let down.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 20

December 77

I have pointed out many time before, the wannabe’s out there claiming, to not only to have been at the Ulster Hall on the 20th October 1977, but who also claim to have been involved in this so called the battle of Bedford Street. Too many fools talking off “Riots” that just didn’t happen and I can tell you. There is an equal amount stating they weren’t there that time but they certainly were the second time they, the Clash came to Belfast and its statements like these I really enjoy. You know the kind; the ones that enables you to easily expose the Walter Mitty’s* of this story when asking; what actually it is they mean by the second time round. Nine out of ten times it’s the same answer, and usually with the same sarcastic smirk strewn across their bake, as if you are the stupid one.

Then; March 78 of course, is barked straight back at you. Well I hate to be the one to ruin the party but if you think like them, then you too are talking out of your arsehole! You see; the first time the Clash played the Ulster Hall was the second time they played Belfast which was actually the third time, in such a short period the band had visited the city. Again when you point this out, you can see the confusion setting in, that’s the moment they finally realise they have been rumbled and for the likes of me; well that’s when the fun begins. First to show is the blank expression on their faces, they are lost for word. The mouth is opened but they just don’t know what to say. Then the threatened look begins to appear in their eyes. The reality sets in as they slowly come to terms with the fact; this fantasy world they have lived in for so long has just been shattered into a million tiny pieces.

I am not one for going around naming names or poking the finger at anyone in particular, there is no need. Believe me; they all get round to reading this at some point in time and they’ll all know who I am talking about! So I guess in many ways this is also for their benefit. After all; I am talking about a subject they know nothing about.
A promise made and kept over 37 years ago by The Clash, on that bleak October night in 77. A promise made in front of a small yet dedicated crowd of Belfast Punks, standing outside the Europa Hotel which. Call it chance or be it fate; either or, I was a part of that crowd, when they. The Clash stated they would return and play in Belfast. It’s what we all wanted to hear and we all naively believe the words they said. I know did but at the same time I knew. That the question on everyone’s lips at that particular moment in time was when and where.

The appropriately named "Get Out Of Control" tour certainly lived up to its name that’s for sure. I was there and witnessed it getting out of control but not in way that it has been labelled. It was a memorable night that many say changed their lives and I dare say it is true but at the time we were left wondering wither or not they would keep their promise, which they did but they didn’t wait till March 1978 like some seem to think. The tour was meant to end at London’s Rainbow Theatre, although due to the unforeseen circumstances it instead ended where it was all meant to start. Keeping to their word The Clash did indeed return to Belfast on the 17th December 1977. Albeit in a different venue; meaning neither the Belfast city council nor the RUC (the police) had a say in the matter.

Not even the loyalist Skins, who normally patrol and terrorise the city centre at night, got in the way of what was probably one of the best days of my life. Come to think of it, the last two weeks of December were pretty hectic, the Clash then Rudi at the Trident followed by the Runaways, all crammed into just ten days of festive fun; can you honestly believe I would forget that?

1977 was year zero; more like the year of the Clash, when you think about it really. It was they who kicked off the Roxy on New Year’s Day 1977; then proceeded to tour the length and breadth of Britain and not only were they the first big name British band to come to Belfast. They left the never ending trail of controversy and speculation circulating around one of the most talked about gigs in the history of Rock ‘N’ Roll, and I personally believe. It was their present on the streets of Belfast that surprisingly warm October afternoon which helped to draw the two sides of this, a very bitterly divided community closer together. Topped off, of course, by ending the Year in style with, what was to be their very last gig of 77 but more importantly, the first big Punk gig to be held in Belfast, and it all happened at Queens University’s in the McMordie Hall. Yet so many of these so called revisionists seem to have either mistaken the true date or / and the location the Clash returned to. Even those dedicated fans blogging on behalf of the band have all got the dates wrong, and that also includes THECLASH.COM themselves.

According to all these sites and blogs; the band returned on the 19th others say the 20th. One site claims they played both nights, while another said they didn’t play the 19th because of transport problems. I only found this out through curiosity, checking to see who the support band was. I’ll be honest; I remember the entire day but I don’t remember a support band and when I stumbled on these dates they threw me. I thought to myself; what on earth are they on about. I never saw the Clash on a Monday or a Tuesday night in December 77. It was a Saturday; a very long Saturday even at the tender age of just sixteen and a half, and it was one I will never forget for many many reasons.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 21
Untitled Document

A Night at the Pound

Good Vibrations “the move” based on the night that Terri “with an I” Hooley supposedly discovered the Belfast band Rudi and on that same night fell in Love with the song “Big Time”. Now I don’t want anyone to be taking this the wrong way, because I am not knocking the film. I have seen the movie, more than once and believe you me, I loved it. I thought it was a brilliant piece of work, even though I have to admit they were way of the mark with most of their facts but still, it brought back so many wonderful memories and not just to me either! To just about anyone who believes they had the right to connect themselves with this era. Not only did it give that feeling of self-importance too many of the old veterans, who I truly believe deserved the recognition. At the same you’ll find just as many who weren’t involved and who certainly weren’t there on the night in question, jumping all over this story as if they were the many players in the Belfast scene and that maddens me! Just as much as it saddens me to think that it’s taken this long for us to arrive at this point. Over thirty-seven years to be precise, yet the truth is still being clouded over with all this bullshit. I mean; you would have thought with such a well-made movie, the makers of the film, would have perhaps paid a little more attention to detail or at least spent a little more time researching the subject?

To have simply taken the Book “Hooligan” as gospel, for me was a mistake and again; I have read the book. Well, the first 40 pages or so that's when I got bored. Followed by the feeling of anger when I arrived at the point when Terri himself “speaks “of that unforgettable night at the Pound, which I shall return to, but in the meantime.

I wanna ask the makers of said film; did none of you’s read the fucking the book before you wrote the screen play? If so, then please tell me, what was the point you were trying to make? Was it to make a “FOOL” out of Hooley for being a total failure, in Marriage, in Business and for fucking up the opportunity of a life time? Purely because his only interested was in his own fucking ego! Or were you actually trying to make a mockery out of the Belfast scene itself? If this is what your hidden agenda was, well, then you made one hell of a mistake, did you not! Once again I will say, I have seen and I really enjoyed the film, I thought it was wonderful, I just don’t get the reasoning behind it all, and you know what. I don’t think those who went to see the movie, well those from Belfast anyway, were able to see past the “NOSTALGIA”!

You see; I know quite a few of them and believe you me, most of them would have been too busy trying to see if anyone was playing them, while listening really careful to the dialog. You know, just in case they got a mention somewhere within the script. Really, I am not kidding that’s how pretentious and arrogant and so unimportant some people from the Belfast scene really are! In a lot of cases it’s simply me, me, me, and I am sorry if I happen to rub some people up the wrong way here, but if the shoe fits, then fucking wear it! At the end of the day is this not what this book is all about, to end the bullshit and to put this story straight once and for all!

I just don’t know why the film makers didn’t ask all the auld hands to come forward, you know, for that little bit of extra input, and if they did well….. I wasn’t fucking asked and no one told me anything about it. Like, it’s not as if I am no longer part of that little loop or anything like that. With all these social media sites on the go, virtually everyone is in contact with one and other, still so called friends after all these years, but we all know that people can be two faced at times.

Take the so called friends and the Good Vibes veterans alike, those who are constantly licking Terri's hole. Most of them have said the book “Hooligan” was badly written and I agree. They then go onto say, the contents are simply the words off a drunk man reminiscing and that same man found it very hard remembering certain “true” facts and again, they're not wrong there.

What they then said about the Journalist who wrote the book, well…. Let’s just say he is a very close friend of Terri’s, so not to offend anyone. The same so called friends then continue to say, the notes had been jotted down in the comfort of the John Hewitt, washed down with a quite a few double Brandy's. Now if that was the case, then yes, you would have to admit deciphering the words of a drunk man wouldn't be easy. I know Terri and I can tell you, he does go on a bit. The man does like the sound of his own voice just a bit too much, which can, from time to time make him his own worst enemey. Nevertheless; the thing that annoys me the most is the fact that all this talk is done behind his back. You know, the same people are all quick to buy the man a drink but as soon as his back is turned, the knives are out and they're stabbing him in the back. I'd just like to know who gives these so called friends the right to pass judgement him or on anyone for that matter. Fuck it just makes you wonder what they might be saying about me, maybe you and about all the ones who came to the party long before they did? Worrying thought is it not! I can assure you, I'm not going slagged Terri or anyone else for having drink, as I know if my own past was made public, I would have the Historical crime squad of police banging on my door from morning noon and night. People have to remember that Terri's only crime was; he didn't plan on anyone challenging, questioning him, he didn't plan on me coming along and writing the Book that would tell the truth. Well they do say shit happens but it's how you deal with it that matters.

So let's face it; mistakes were made by all but still, you can't deny it was a brilliant and very well made film, regardless of all the facts going out the window. Never mind giving way to Poetic license, what was shown on the silver screen was complete and utter fantasy. If only they had they asked the right people and tried that little bit harder they would've got so much closer to the truth. Anyway, I could sit here all day and night picking holes in the film but where will it get me? It certainly won't get my story told which is the whole point here is it not? So I shall stop wasting your time as well as my own and get back to the true story! What really happened on the night of the 12 th January 1978 at the Pound Club, Belfast, and why? I can tell you; that night alone would have made for a brilliant movie in itself, but they would have to get Bruce Willis to play me!

This picture is of me spitting was taken that night and as you can see, appeared in Belfast's Newsletter the following day Friday 13th January 1978. You will also notice, the night Terri Hooley tried to highjack, not only took the front page headline slot, it pushed the death of a UDR soldier, killed the same day, to second spot. The impact this feature had on the Youth of Belfast can be seen in Sean and Guy's book 'It makes you want to Spit'. It was only after this evenet that the greater Belfast areas become involved in the Belfast scene.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 22
Untitled Document

The Harp Bar

As we all now know, the Harp Bar in Hill Street was home to the Belfast Punx. It was here the two communities came together, both Middle and working classes a like. It's where lifelong friendship started, in some cases even marriage, and those bounds of friendship that sprang to life all those years ago, in that run down stripjoint have never faded. If you ever get the chance to visit any of the new locations / venues scattered about the city centre, such as The Voodoo lounge or the Limelight or even the Empire. You will surely bump into some of those old faces, most of whom still haven't yet grow up, grown old yes but always young at heart. That old saying "once a Punk always a Punk" is very true indeed, some habbits never die!

this chapter will follow soon.

 

These extracts have been taken from first dratf chapters, even though they are displayed on this site they may not necessarily appear in the book, but I can assure you without any doubt whatsoever, they most certainly are part and parcel of the "Trilogy Story"! So if you buy the Book, you like it and want to read the Chapters that are not included, they will be available from this site! Remember its 40 years of memories and 5 years of research!

I would also like point out, that we are in search of photos of the era, so if you can help please send copies of whatever you have to, photos@thepunktrilogy.co.uk don't forget to leave your details so we can credit you. Thanks

Chapter 23
Untitled Document

The Conclusion

OK; I admit, I have been having little digs and jabs at certain individuals throughout this site and, of course, the book. Some have been named but there is just as many whose names have not yet been mentioned and I dare sat they all know exactly who I am talking about. These jokes, jabs, jest call them what you like, they were never meant to offend, but if they have, well….. Then I think this book “if nothing else” has delivered the massage that was meant! If it gets their backs up, then I identified the frauds and the nobodies within the Ulster Punk scene.

I must confess, it has always madden me to hear the people who I have known for many years, talking complete and utter bullshit. Those claiming to be something, or someone they clearly weren’t, and most certainly aren’t. Such claim's as the “Godfather” of Punk, especially when I know that person actually came late to the party, you know that really winds me up! I suppose in away you could say that kind of annoyance would have been the main driving force behind my writing. As well as, that want, to prove all those who have laughed at myself and Stephen Anderson, when we first mentioned the Young Americans and the Viking, wrong. Again, you know who you are. The fools who think they know the story of Punk, the ones who thought that I / we were the ones talking out of our arseholes, and there is a lot of people out there who thought that way! Thyose who believe that this era never excited simply because they had never heard of it, because they weren't part of it, and you know what. They're ones who probably won’t read this Book; purely because it will prove that they were wrong, and when they realize that, which they probably have already, well….. Then their illusion's, their fantasy world gets cancelled out as reality finally kicks in!

The sad thing about that is they will all miss out on the true message behind this story, what this book and I am really trying to say! Which is, it didn't matter when or how you got involved in the Ulster Punk Scene, the import factor is you were involved and that message goes out to all the Sean O'Neil's "who were far too young to have been involved at the start" and the same goes for the likes of Terri Hooley "who was, and still is far too old" to have ever understood the true importance of the Punk movement! This was an era that we have all loved and cherished for near on 40 years now, but all said and done. From the young to the old, you don't need to pretend to be something you weren't. Realize that in every story there were those who played much bigger rolls than others, but at the end of the day, in this story we were all in it together, and we should all be proud of that fact.

Forget the Peter Robinson’s and the Martin McGuinness’s of this world, they weren’t the ones who started the peace process rolling in this country. They are merely trying “badly” to finalising our initiative! Raising from those ashes, it was the middle to working class kids from all over Ulster who came together as one back in the mid-70s and early 80s who brought the prospect of peace to this land! Without our generation, you got to ask yourself would they have ever found a peaceful solution to end a war, which they created “and” would it have ever been successful?

It was the spirit of 76, and the kids of that era who were responsible for dragging those barriers down long before “they” the Politicians and the Clergymen dreamt of their peace process, and really, what have they really achieved since then? They still to this day fight and bicker, agreeing to disagree, with both side falsely laying a claim of victory to a war that they haven't yet won. Their bitterness, which they instilled in this province, now hinders them from seeing the reality that surrounds them. A reality that we were faced with, the same reality that helped us, my Generation, to turn our backs on their hatred all those years ago.

It’s obvious today that the people of Northern Ireland are sick to death of this conflict, we are fed up with the politician’s lies. Just like those early Young Americans and all those Harp Bar Hero's, and the way I see it is. The people of this country should be paying respect to them, to those early pioneers who truly change everything back then.

It was because of them I wrote this Book, this book is written in their honour! With the hope that all future generation who follow, will know actually of the part that we, here in Ulster, played in creations of Punk pre say. They say that Punk changed the world and I definitely agree but I would point out to the rest of world, that there is a twist in the tale to the story they thought they knew. The Punk Trilogy is it, the Tale of the Third City tells of just one of Ulster secrets that was almost lost forever, believe me, there are many more secrets out there waiting to be told and through time I hope I can enlighten you to them!.

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Chapter 24

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