A man who made things happen

Doug Hood (left) on vocals at The Clean’s first gig at Beneficiaries Hall, Dunedin, supporting...
Doug Hood (left) on vocals at The Clean’s first gig at Beneficiaries Hall, Dunedin, supporting The Enemy. Peter Gutteridge (bass) is out of shot to the left, Hamish Kilgour on drums and David Kilgour on guitar. PHOTO: JEFF BATTS

DOUG HOOD
Music industry legend

The bands which came to define what is now known as ‘‘the Dunedin sound’’ would probably have formed, composed and created without the work of Douglas Henry Hood.

But would anyone other than fans in their hometown have heard of them without his energy, enthusiasm and quiet influence? Quite possibly not.

Doug Hood only lived in Dunedin for a few years, but they were critical years in the city’s emerging rock scene. Flatting with Enemy frontman Chris Knox in Filleul St, briefly singing for The Clean and regularly staging and producing gigs for those bands and the others which followed in their footsteps, Hood was the man who recognised a problem and set about fixing it, often before anyone else had even noticed it.

His direction endured long after he had moved to Auckland and founded an influential tour promotion company. Dunedin bands were regularly afforded international support slots thanks to Hood’s influence, and he encouraged the artists he toured to tack the city on to their itineraries.

Born in Te Kuiti in 1953 to Donald and Dulcie (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Te Ata), Hood was born of solid Labour stock - his grandparents were friends of and regularly hosted Michael Joseph Savage - and had a lifelong lively interest in politics and strong dislike for any form of unfairness and discrimination.

He had planned to become an engineer but after a weekend in Dunedin with a Te Kuiti school friend he was enticed south to eventually become a technician with the Post Office.

On that first trip, Hood met his friend’s flatmate, Chris Knox, instigating what was to become a lifelong friendship and fruitful creative partnership.

Knox’s band The Enemy was the most exciting act in town, but bearing the standard of punk rock in the South meant that the landlords of the city’s usual band venues were deeply suspicious of them.

They and like-minded musicians had to put on their own shows and it was Hood who was instrumental in making that happen, using the skills he was learning at the Post Office to build and operate PA systems and sound desks.

He also drove the van, did the pack in and eventually managed The Enemy and the band they evolved into, Toy Love. If it needed to be done, Doug Hood was the man who quietly went about making it happen.

He also, briefly, ended up centre stage singing for The Clean at the band’s debut gig, supporting The Enemy. Despite his Irish and Ma ¯ori ancestry meaning that he really could sing, Hood preferred to be in the background. He did make occasional cameos though, including singing backing vocals on Tall Dwarfs’ The Brain That Wouldn’t Die.

He travelled to Australia with Toy Love as manager and soundman, but the band split soon after and Hood fetched up in Auckland working for various audio engineering companies and also working as soundman at Parnell's Windsor Castle. Hood soon took over booking the venue and many of the Dunedin bands signed to a new southern recording label Flying Nun - and most notably The Chills - would end up playing there.

Hood and Chills lead singer Martin Phillipps would become close friends - Hood managed The Chills for a time and Phillipps was godfather to Hood’s son, Jack - and the men would ultimately die within weeks of each other.

Chris Knox was also back in New Zealand and had also settled in Auckland. He and Hood collaborated to record the exciting new bands emerging from the South on what became a legendary TEAC four-track recorder.

Chris Knox with his famed TEAC four-track recorder, and Doug Hood in the mirror. PHOTO: ALEC...
Chris Knox with his famed TEAC four-track recorder, and Doug Hood in the mirror. PHOTO: ALEC BATHGATE
Despite his instinctive ear for capturing a compelling sound, Hood could not replicate what could be achieved in an expensive recording studio. What he could do, though, was capture the spirit of a song and the energy of a band, helping to create an aesthetic now known as ‘‘low-fi’’, but which at the time was necessitated by circumstances.

Hood leant his skills to releases by The Chills, The Verlaines, They Were Expendable, The Clean, Sneaky Feelings and Children’s Hour (who he ended up managing), among many others. For a band he believed in - and he believed in many - he would go the extra mile and beyond, and artists appreciated that he was a kindred spirit.

One prominent example was his pushing The Chills into going to England, an at times painful but necessary stage in the band’s development.

One crucial day in 1982 Hood was home while his flatmate, Knox, was on the phone to Australian promoter Ken West, who asked if he knew any New Zealand promoters. Knox put Hood on the phone and cemented a working a relationship which lasted a dozen years or more.

Hood formed Looney Tours - he originally wanted to call his company Tally Ho Tours after The Clean’s debut single but a caravan company already had the name - and under that banner (and then its successor company The Sequel) Hood collaborated with West and his business partner, Vivian Lees, and later with another Australian promoter, Michael Coppel, to bring everyone who was anyone to New Zealand.

It operated like a family business - Hood used to pick up bands in his battered secondhand car and bring them home for a meal - and bands loved the down-to-earth attitude that Hood brought to the job.

Although now moving in rarefied circles with genuine stars, Hood never forgot his origins: New Zealand bands always got support slots when the headlining act’s record label might have preferred to push a foreign signing of their own, and Hood also looked after local crew. Many a musician or technician got a vital pay cheque or big break through landing a few days’ work on a Looney Tours show, and if nothing else they would likely have got a tutorial from Hood on the art of rolling up a cable correctly.

Away from the industry Hood was an enormous sports fan and was often found on the Eden Park terraces; one of his fondest claims was that he turned US band Violent Femmes into one-day cricket fans.

Although he grew to become a hugely important and influential figure in the New Zealand music industry, Hood had no airs and graces. Serious and with an at times desert dry sense of humour, you had to gain his respect - once you were invited to a ‘‘production meeting’’ you were in - and in return he would be unfailingly helpful and loyal.

As a young music journalist I was lucky to have got on well with Hood right from the beginning; I know of several acts of kindness to me and others, and as he tended to operate in the background I’m sure that there were many more I did not know about.

Looney Tours ended up sharing office space on Queen St with Flying Nun - Hood maintained close links to his musical roots and Straitjacket Fits played at his wedding to Victoria, a nurse.

As the ‘‘alternative’’ music scene headed toward the mainstream their building was somewhat of an epicentre of the changing times. That was brought into greater focus when Hood was asked to stage the New Zealand debut of Lees and West’s Australian touring roadshow The Big Day Out.

Being a promoter is an inherently risky business and Hood often put his personal livelihood on the line to tour a band he backed. While a generation of music fans are eternally grateful for the experience, it came as a fiscal and emotional cost.

Hood’s job meant that he got an at times dangerous taste for the substances which fuelled rock’n’roll, and the sheer volume of work he took on meant that his books were not always in pristine condition:

Inland Revenue eventually played an influential role in the demise of Hood as a promoter.

His final working years were as a tenancy manager for Housing New Zealand, a position which appealed to an eternal backer of the underdog. Although music was now a hobby, Hood remained a regular at gigs and an articulate presence on social media.

Hood’s last years were hard ones. Diagnosed with cancer, Hood fought the disease grimly, despite losing the power of speech. Although getting out was a struggle, Hood had an active life online, which included proudly watching his lawyer son, Jack, arguing a case in front of the Supreme Court.

Doug Hood died on September 10, aged 70.

- Mike Houlahan, with invaluable input from Russell Brown and www.audioculture.co.nz