Christopher Owens π΄I'm reaching out again and clutching flowers thrown in the breeze/They're all quite meaningless and yet they mean so much to me/We slipped up again by not recalling all the pain/And I wanna know why, I wanna know why. - The Mob
Petesy Burns is no more.
Receiving that message on New Year’s Day did put a dent in the day’s proceedings.
For those of us interested in punk rock and its visible manifestations in Belfast, Petesy Burns was the equivalent of a totem pole: someone who represented a rich heritage but could still inspire those who interacted with him.
From Good Vibrations through to the Harp Bar, the Manhattan, the Anarchy Centre and through three variations on Giros/Warzone Centre, Petesy helped to create and nurture not just punk rock in Belfast but also an alternative lifestyle and way of thinking during a time of intense conflict and ideological rigidness. Eternal respect is due.
From Sheridan Street in the New Lodge, his path in life was altered whenever he discovered punk rock. Speaking to Stuart Bailie in 2017 he said that the Sex Pistols ‘God Save the Queen’ offered a way out for him because:
Soon making his way to Good Vibrations in Great Victoria Street, then onto the Harp Bar in Hill Street, it wasn’t long before he became involved in music. Beginning with the Stillborns before morphing into Stalag 17, their ferocious take on punk can be summarised with ‘Smash the Front’.
Beginning life as a Stillborns tune, it became Stalag 17’s most famous number.
It’s worth noting that, although small in numbers, the NF did have a hold in Protestant areas where the Shankill skins (including the likes of Johnny Adair, Sam ‘Skelly’ McCrory and Donald Hodgen) would have the NF logo on their jackets. While it is true that Adair helped forge those links (particularly with his band, Offensive Weapon) I’ve been repeatedly told by those who were either their or part of the general subculture that emerged after 1977 in Belfast that it was the anti-IRA/pro-British angle that attracted so many loyalists.
Regardless, adopting an anti-fascist stance whenever genuine fascists were trying to organise in the North was a brave and bold move. Unsurprisingly, this led to manys a confrontation whenever the two groups were on the circuit.
There were many other bands: FUAL, Sledgehammer, Shame Academy, The Outcasts, A-Political, A.R.S.E, The Hoakers. All of them embedded with the same love of music, the same excitement of picking up an instrument and the same glee of performing live.
Check out this tribute from Hillary Midgley from Sledgehammer.
The opening of the Anarchy Centre in November 1981 was another seminal moment in the history of Belfast. It was somewhere the punks who had been just a little too young for the Harp and the Pound could convalesce on a Saturday afternoon, watch a film (like the banned Monty Python's Life of Brian) and see gigs by local legends as well as the likes of Crass and Poison Girls while getting up to all sorts.
Stalag 17 played as support to the latter two which had an even bigger impact on Petesy who was barely 20 years old because
This led to the idea of collectivisation, especially after meeting people like Roy Wallace from Toxic Waste who were running the Rathcoole Self Help Group. Thus the catalyst for what became the Warzone Collective came into play and what happened next would change the lives of manys a person in Belfast.
Talking to Ian Glasper in 2009, Petesy noted that while:
While such places were common amongst squatters in Britain and Europe, Belfast had never had such a place before. One that consciously didn’t designate itself as one or the other. One that offered vegan/vegetarian food. One where artists could have exhibitions. One where you could make your own T-shirts and posters. One where you could see life changing gigs from incendiary acts.
Giros inspired the dreamers of Belfast and, as one of the main architects of this alternative way of thinking, Petesy put it in stark but simple terms: DIY not UDA/IRA!
Petesy Burns, lest we forget.
⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist and is the author of A Vortex of Securocrats and “dethrone god”.
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| Petesy Burns |
Receiving that message on New Year’s Day did put a dent in the day’s proceedings.
For those of us interested in punk rock and its visible manifestations in Belfast, Petesy Burns was the equivalent of a totem pole: someone who represented a rich heritage but could still inspire those who interacted with him.
From Good Vibrations through to the Harp Bar, the Manhattan, the Anarchy Centre and through three variations on Giros/Warzone Centre, Petesy helped to create and nurture not just punk rock in Belfast but also an alternative lifestyle and way of thinking during a time of intense conflict and ideological rigidness. Eternal respect is due.
♩ ♪♫ πΉ π·πΈπ» πΊ
From Sheridan Street in the New Lodge, his path in life was altered whenever he discovered punk rock. Speaking to Stuart Bailie in 2017 he said that the Sex Pistols ‘God Save the Queen’ offered a way out for him because:
…coming from the Republican tradition that sort of pricked my ears because music wasn’t really big on the agenda round our way. It was more sorta clodding things at the army. And I remember just being in the bedroom one day, and I used to listen to my ma and da’s radio in their bedroom, I used to listen to the charts every week and then this week’s Number Two was ‘God Save the Queen’ by the Sex Pistols. But then it was banned and I’d never heard it on the radio either. And it being Jubilee year, at first I thought it must be some sort of song, celebrating the Jubilee. And then I thought, the Sex Pistols? I’m not too sure about that. And then when I thought about it, I had heard of Johnny Rotten but never really heard who they were. And then when I got it, there was an affinity initially with where I was coming from. You know, that whole anti-establishment, anti-monarchy, anti-British thing. As it was then – ‘God Save the Queen, the fascist regime’. The argument was won at that point.
Soon making his way to Good Vibrations in Great Victoria Street, then onto the Harp Bar in Hill Street, it wasn’t long before he became involved in music. Beginning with the Stillborns before morphing into Stalag 17, their ferocious take on punk can be summarised with ‘Smash the Front’.
Beginning life as a Stillborns tune, it became Stalag 17’s most famous number.
It’s worth noting that, although small in numbers, the NF did have a hold in Protestant areas where the Shankill skins (including the likes of Johnny Adair, Sam ‘Skelly’ McCrory and Donald Hodgen) would have the NF logo on their jackets. While it is true that Adair helped forge those links (particularly with his band, Offensive Weapon) I’ve been repeatedly told by those who were either their or part of the general subculture that emerged after 1977 in Belfast that it was the anti-IRA/pro-British angle that attracted so many loyalists.
Regardless, adopting an anti-fascist stance whenever genuine fascists were trying to organise in the North was a brave and bold move. Unsurprisingly, this led to manys a confrontation whenever the two groups were on the circuit.
There were many other bands: FUAL, Sledgehammer, Shame Academy, The Outcasts, A-Political, A.R.S.E, The Hoakers. All of them embedded with the same love of music, the same excitement of picking up an instrument and the same glee of performing live.
Check out this tribute from Hillary Midgley from Sledgehammer.
♩ ♪♫ πΉ π·πΈπ» πΊ
The opening of the Anarchy Centre in November 1981 was another seminal moment in the history of Belfast. It was somewhere the punks who had been just a little too young for the Harp and the Pound could convalesce on a Saturday afternoon, watch a film (like the banned Monty Python's Life of Brian) and see gigs by local legends as well as the likes of Crass and Poison Girls while getting up to all sorts.
Stalag 17 played as support to the latter two which had an even bigger impact on Petesy who was barely 20 years old because
…at that point I was still firmly entrenched in the sorta, not what I would call the fashion end of punk but the apolitical, the hedonistic sorta chaos type thing, and that was the first time … and I would have always dismissed Crass…just took the line from the media, basically saying they were middle-class hippies. And just took that line without really having met them or thought about it, and then when they came I met them and saw how engaged they were just with people, outside of being on the stage, sitting about, not being stars, just being really interesting and interested, you know. And then seeing the band and the spectacle of it – because they had all their films and banners and them themselves, just completely engaging, it was just like a completely different kind of experience and you sorta thought, that's what punk’s about.
This led to the idea of collectivisation, especially after meeting people like Roy Wallace from Toxic Waste who were running the Rathcoole Self Help Group. Thus the catalyst for what became the Warzone Collective came into play and what happened next would change the lives of manys a person in Belfast.
♩ ♪♫ πΉ π·πΈπ» πΊ
Talking to Ian Glasper in 2009, Petesy noted that while:
…Belfast was less of a grim place in the Eighties than it had been in the Seventies...there was still virtually nothing in terms of a non-sectarian shared space in the city centre. Youth culture - and especially punk youth culture - was still a dirty word, and there was fuck-all means of people exploring their creativity in a way that wasn’t controlled. Everything we wrote at the time was a reflection of how we viewed Belfast and Northern Ireland, the punk scene, and people’s perception of our situation.
Belfast always had a fairly healthy punk scene, the only problem being that we could never secure a venue or practice space. The Warzone collective had been running the cafΓ© in the anarchist bookshop, Just Books, but when it became apparent that we needed much more space, we got a room in the newly opened Centre for the Unemployed and annoyed them - mostly through noise pollution - until they helped us acquire our own premises. We got down to building a practice room, cafΓ© and art workshop; it was truly unbelievable the mix of people and ideas Giro’s brought together, the sense of enthusiasm and possibilities was palpable…”
While such places were common amongst squatters in Britain and Europe, Belfast had never had such a place before. One that consciously didn’t designate itself as one or the other. One that offered vegan/vegetarian food. One where artists could have exhibitions. One where you could make your own T-shirts and posters. One where you could see life changing gigs from incendiary acts.
Giros inspired the dreamers of Belfast and, as one of the main architects of this alternative way of thinking, Petesy put it in stark but simple terms: DIY not UDA/IRA!
It took me out of a lifestyle that I would have, for not knowing any better that I would have just followed and done what everyone around me was doing. And followed that track. That everyone was following you know. It sorta took me away from that and showed me other possibilities.
Petesy Burns, lest we forget.
⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist and is the author of A Vortex of Securocrats and “dethrone god”.





















