‘BACK IN THE DAY, I was on the town with Phil Lynott in London, and during the course of the evening he gave me the best advice I have ever heard in my life. The only problem, however, was that when I woke up the next day I had completely forgotten what he said.”
This, of course, is no surprise, for we are speaking to Terri Hooley, who has forgotten that we have an interview arranged at 10.30am at his Belfast city Good Vibrations record shop. The night before was a tough one, apparently, and the early morning even tougher, but Hooley strolls into his shop, looking a little weary and hungover, and promises to take me on a tour of the city, showing me where it all started for Good Vibrations and, indeed, for him as one of the primary instigators of Belfast’s creative identity.
We are in Memory Lane mode because Hooley has, with journalist Richard Sullivan, co-authored Hooleygan: Music, Mayhem, Good Vibrations, a rollercoaster run-through of his life as one of Northern Ireland's best-known, much-loved and frowned-upon cultural agitators. Hooley is best known because through his Good Vibrations record label he gave the world The Undertones and Teenage Kicks, is much loved because he has a heart the size of the moon, and is occasionally frowned upon because he is more often than not the dictionary definition of the word maverick. Hooley's charm, however, is a strong, sizable magnet.
“I have no time for the suits,” he says, as we make our way to the Cathedral Quarter to pay a visit to the Oh Yeah Music Centre, which more recently has acted as a strategic hub for the music and arts community in the city.
Hooley’s devil-may-care attitude to officialdom, as well as several aspects of his life, may have scuppered his chances of financial success (bankruptcy), personal happiness (fractured marriages) and health (smokes and drinks), but he is that rare thing in today’s world: an honest, publish-and- be-damned person whose love of music and the rock’n’roll elements attached to it have got him into more trouble than he had ever bargained for.
Before we enter the Oh Yeah Music Centre (or is it after we leave? When you’re in the company of Terri Hooley, confusion reigns) he reminisces about his regular bouts of bankruptcy and his bounce back to rude record shop fitness.
Hooley has survived bomb blasts, arson attacks, heart attacks, threats and beatings, and still he stands. He will, he says, “never forgive those that burnt down North Street Arcade, which is where my shop, Cathedral Records, was located”.
The shop was destroyed in April, 2004, and Hooley says he lost everything – his complete stock of records, his entire collection of Good Vibrations memorabilia, his personal possessions and drawings by the artist Joseph Beuys (“the children’s pension fund”).
Depression descended with a thud, with Hooley veering between leaving his beloved Belfast and considering suicide. “I was just so furious that they could get away with it, and there was nothing I could do.”
The good days are back, though, and inside the Oh Yeah Music Centre, Hooley walks around in wonder at the display of Belfast’s rich pop culture heritage, touching the cabinets that hold memorabilia from Ruby Murray (“the first true Irish pop star”) to Snow Patrol (“those boys are really very special”), from Van Morrison (“he doesn’t like me because I call him George Ivan!”) to The Outcasts (“the boys!”).
We leave the centre, and Hooley edges his way towards the John Hewitt pub.
"People care now about rock'n'roll. I occasionally conduct tours of the city and I never mention the Titanicor the Troubles. You see that door there? We recorded Teenage Kicksthere – and they knocked the bloody building down."
The authority figures of Belfast City Council get another hammering, and with that Hooley enters the pub; he has had enough of the interview process, he says, and all the talking has made him thirsty.
We’ll leave it, then, to Hooley’s friend and the Oh Yeah Music Centre’s Stuart Bailie to sign off with a fitting coda about the importance of Hooley and his unconventional tendencies.
“Sometimes youth culture, guitars and insolent voices define a city more than any other form, and you can make that case for Terri and Belfast. His style will outlast the guys in the suits and their shabby deals. His logic will survive them all.”
TOP THREE GOOD VIBE TUNES
The Undertones – Teenage Kicks
For some people of a certain generation, this is Northern Ireland’s national anthem, and the song that gave the world five teenagers from Derry and a cult record label from Belfast.
Rudi – Big Time
Regarded by many as Good Vibrations’ bona fide classic pop/punk tune: big guitars, inescapable chorus, and compelling kick-in-the- television-screen riffs.
The Outcasts – Self-Conscious Over You
The label’s hard chaws managed to blend raw male emotions and jagged guitars with a pop sensibility that, 30 years later, still has you singing along. And, yes, they still look scary.
Hooleygan: Music, Mayhem, Good Vibrationsby Terri Hooley Richard Sullivan is published in paperback by Blackstaff Press, priced £14.99.
Good Vibrations record shop is on Winetavern Street, Belfast.
