Free Twisting My Melon by Shaun Ryder Page B

my first taste of it in blowbacks, just round at people’s houses at a party or whatever. The other person would smoke it, sucking it in through a tube, and then blow it back into your mouth through the tube. It’s not as strong a buzz. It’s like a second-hand heroin buzz.
    The first time I smoked it myself properly was one night when Bull had gone to bingo with her mam. Me and a mate decided to get some gear that night, and we didn’t have that much dough, so we only got a fiver’s worth each. We were both up for it, neither of us pushed the other one into it. Smack then, in late 1982, was actually easier to get than weed or hash at some points, because it had come flooding in. Sometimes it seemed like everyone had heroin but hardly anyone had hash.
    When you first do heroin, you either love it or hate it. Even if it makes you sick, which happens to a lot of people the first time they take it, the chances are you will probably have it again, because you enjoy it after your stomach calms down. But when I smoked it that night, I straight away had this instant sort of Ready Brek glow, this invincible ‘I don’t give a fuck’ feeling.
    My mate smoked his and just completely passed out and puked while he was unconscious. Which wasn’t ideal, because watching him gurgle on his vomit was ruining my nice buzz.
    I then clocked the time and realized I had to go and pick up Bull from fucking bingo, which was a right ball-ache. In the end I had to get hold of my mate, who was still passed out, drag him out to my car and stick him in the back seat while I went and picked up Bull. Her mam wasn’t with her, thank God. I was driving a 120Y Datsun at the time, which looked a bit like Starsky and Hutch’s car, except it was a Datsun and a sort of mustardy colour. So not quite as cool as Starsky and Hutch.
    I don’t think Bull knew I’d done heroin that night. She clocked I was wasted, that was fucking obvious because I was still pinned the next day, but I think she just thought I’d been smoking a load of weed or hash. I was still definitely wary of getting involved with the gear. I knew it was serious tackle, because it had been set in my head as a little kid when we were told by the police when they came to our school how addictive and dangerous it was. I was like ‘Woooaahh, I’ve got to be really careful what I’m playing with here.’ Especially as I’d already seen mates sucked in. There were quite a few of my pals who were at it, big time. My best mate at the time had gone from smoking to digging in a matter of weeks and you could see the effect on him. He didn’t smile or dance any more. It was horrible to watch.
    That’s what we called injecting – ‘digging’ – and people who were injecting were called ‘diggers’. I was never under the illusion that heroin wasn’t quite as bad if you smoked it – I’ve never deluded myself like that. I’m just not a needle fan. I don’t think it’s macho or sexy to stick needles in your arm, so I was never going to be a digger. But once you could smoke it, then it seemed much more doable. It seemed an easier decision: ‘OK, I’ll have a go.’ It was months before I tried heroin again, and even then I only had it a couple of times before I left it out altogether for a couple of years.
    Obviously by the time the Mondays split most of the band had one vice or another. Eventually we were all either doing cocaine, taking heroin or smoking crack. Everyone, apart from Gaz Whelan. But at the same time they were all saying to me, ‘This band’s getting ruined because you’re taking heroin and you’re smoking crack and you’re doing this.’ All of them pointing the finger at me. But we’ll get to that later.
    After the battle of the bands we played another couple of gigs that my dad sorted out in youth and working men’s clubs around Salford and Bolton. But we didn’t want to be playing those types of places for ever, as no one was going to spot us playing a youth