Luke O'Neill on how a childhood party sparked a lifelong love of music

The night of the party, it was June 1977, Buddy and two of his friends came in playing the guitar, singing. I remember just staring at them, I was so taken with the music. 

Singsongs were a key feature back then and my house was a big one for them. My dad would sing; my mum: Everyone had a party piece.

But these boys were playing The Beatles, The Stones. They had a massive repertoire: They could play anything from the showband era. I was in awe of them. 

What got me was — my parents’ taste in music was too old for me, stuff from the ‘40s, the ‘50s — Buddy and the boys were playing my music, my generation.

I was transfixed: Live musicians playing in front of me, in my house. People were crammed in, the house was packed, our small three-bed terraced house. 

All the chairs were taken and I was sitting on the floor at the feet of these guys. 

I remember thinking, ‘If I could do that, wouldn’t it be so cool?’ Someone said to me, ‘You’re really into this, aren’t you’?’ He could tell by my face.

My dad’s big song was ‘My Brother Sylvest’ and my mother used to sing Judy Garland’s ‘The Trolley Song’. I remember the two of them singing that night. 

As a child, I didn’t know they were all drunk. They were in top form, I could sense the joy coming off them. I loved seeing them being happy.

Buddy sang ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’: That really got me. There’s a great spirit in that song. I think he sang a bit of country. 

My dad sang ‘Buddy, Can You Spare a Dime?’ And Buddy played the guitar. I noticed he could accompany people and that seemed very cool.

Everyone had a party piece; it went around the whole room. There was a priest and he sang ‘Glory, Glory Hallelujah’. I’ll never forget the whole roof lifting at ‘Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord’. 

There was a massive sense of excitement. I saw the joy on people’s faces. It was a wonderful community thing.

For me, that was a key moment. From that moment on, I wanted to be a musician. My mind was so wowed by it: The wonder of live music, the real talent they had, the atmosphere, the community vibe, the lifting of people’s spirits. 

Next day, I couldn’t stop thinking of the songs, the chords. It convinced me how great music is and it was the beginning of a journey more deeply into music.

I’d have been playing the radio and records at home. My sister was into music and I’d raid her record collection. But something very special happens with live music that you can’t capture with records. 

I wanted to learn to play live music. I’d been playing a bit of piano — there was an old piano in the house and my mother had sent me to classes. But the guitar was exciting, and you could bring it to parties!

By coincidence, a teacher at school started teaching guitar. He taught us one or two chords and once I learned those, I was off and running. My mother spotted my excitement and she took me to buy a guitar. 

It was a shop on the Quinsborough Road in Bray. It wasn’t really a music shop; more like a shop in a country town that sold everything, like agricultural stuff, and out the back he had two or three guitars.

There was a beautiful, red, shiny colour on the guitar I got: I can still see it. It cost £12. It turned out to be a crappy guitar. 

At 15, I bought myself one in a shop in Dublin. I got obsessed with music and began playing it more, and putting little bands together in Bray. 

I got into it more and more and I nearly became a musician in England. I could have gone down the music route, but science took over then.

Without that night, I suspect my interest in music would have been a lot less. I might not have learned to play the guitar. 

Music means everything to me. It has been essential to my life in so many ways. It’s a real friend: In times of sadness, you can play a sad song. It lifts your mood. 

Paul McCartney said if he was in a bad mood he’d put on a bit of Elvis and it’d improve his mood.

Something funny happens in our minds when we’re listening to music. We go to another place. We still don’t understand that, but it’s something magical. Without music, I would have a much less fulfilled life. 

I’ve started a new radio show, every Wednesday night on Dublin City FM. It’s called Resonate and I play my favourite music. 

I doubt I’d be doing this show without that night when I was 12. I trace my passion for music back to that night.

• Luke O’Neill presents ‘Resonate’, which sees him delving into his favourite artists, from The Beatles to Billie Eilish, and sharing his passion for music and the way it makes us feel; Wednesdays, 8pm, Dublin City FM.