Tim Burgess Blew Cocaine Up His Anus

Tim Burgess, outside a pub in east London, May 2012. Photo: Jamie Lee Curtis Taete

In 2006 The Charlatans' frontman Tim Burgess quit drinking and drugs after taking cocaine every day for almost ten years. Since then The Charlatans have released two more albums and continue to tour and Tim has set up his own record label to release some of his favorite artists.

He’s also written a book, which has just come out, called Telling Stories, chronicling some of the hairier experiences from living life so close to the edge has seen him through. One of them includes blowing cocaine up his, and his tour buddies assholes, just so you know. Tim calls it "Cocainus".

Intrigued by his chosen method of drug taking and by a raft of stories, rumors and possibly myths about his rock n’ roll addled drug-decade, I met up with him to discuss the 'ins' and, umm, 'outs' of how to enjoy a prolonged period of time spent completely fucked out of your head, day and night.

Noisey: Hey Tim, what’s happening with your book, Telling Stories?

Tim: The book’s gone out of control. It’s on its third reprint, now. People seem to pick up on the "Cocainus" thing.

The sticking cocaine up your bums thing? Yeah, I am gonna have to ask you about it.

No, of course! Originally that chapter was called “My Drug Heaven”.

So how did you end up sticking coke up each other’s holes?

Well, I think, obviously we’d heard rumors that in Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks had a roadie do it for her. I think you’d have to be on coke to entertain the idea in the first place.

What was it like?

How did it feel?

Yeah.

Well I was pretty high when I did it but I think I described it as if you put a scotch bonnet on your arse.

Hahaha.

You have to order drinks first and hopefully you get a straw…

LOL, 'straw'.

If you don’t get a straw, you have to use a roll of paper. It’s not for the faint-hearted. When you’re on a tour bus and driving through countries, things get a little monotonous. You’re just looking for something new to do that you didn’t do yesterday.

Was there anything you had to think seriously about whether to put in the book or not?

Yeah, there’s certain things about Rob Collins - the original [Charlatans] keyboard player - who died in a car crash that people didn’t know. Me and him had quite a big, significant argument before. We never really got to make up. That affected me. There’s moments in the book where I kinda say, “Look, for ten years after Rob died that was me kinda out of control in mourning.” Obviously I know I might be using that as, you know, as an excuse. But when I gave up [drugs] it was pretty much ten years, well, three months short of the date he died. So it was kinda a ten-year mourning period really. That was a secret.

What was the argument about?

The only person who really knew about the argument before was Mark [Collins, The Charlatans’ guitarist, no relation to Rob]. Rob had got to a point where he was so out of control that, under normal circumstances, if he wasn’t like the greatest keyboard player of his generation, he would be completely booted out the band. Me and Mark talked about it pretty much straight after the argument I had with Rob. It was like, “What kind of drugs are you on if you think you can kick Rob out the band?” He probably would have said no anyway, just, “I’m not leaving.”

Was the book a way of getting that stuff out of your head?

Probably. I hate the idea of it being a kind of cathartic thing, because I just wanted it to be truthful. I think the person who comes out of it worst is me. I kinda like that.

Right.

Then there was a whole interview that Sylvia Patterson wrote years ago, I thought, 'Fuck, that’s gotta go in as well.'

What did she say?

Well, I fell down the stairs [laughs] when she was about to interview me and I was looking up at her going “Oh, is this the start of the interview?”

Don't worry, there are no stairs here. Besides, you're sober now.

There was a point where, because the drugs were so much stronger in America, I used to always get really disappointed [in the UK]. The drug dealers in LA would always come and look after us as soon as we landed.

Like meet you off the plane?

The one in LA would meet us at the airport. The one in New York would meet us in a stretch limo at the airport with a bag in it and a bottle of champagne. It was really great, but then come this way [the UK] and you’d be like, “Has anybody got any?” “No, I can’t get any tonight.” “What the fuck you talking about?” You’d just get so stressed out about it. Coke’s fucking crazy anyway.

Did you ever get caught out or arrested?

I would send it to myself, to the studio or wherever it was I was going-

By post?

By post, yeah, in records. I’d send them in records of bands I didn’t really like, like Jamiroquai, ‘cos if I ever got busted everyone would think “Ah no it’s not Tim, he doesn’t like this guy.” Other than Jamiroquai there’d be soft rock, late Pink Floyd…

Did it ever get confiscated?

No, well, I did it in America, I think I was going to DJ in Denver, and my record box didn’t come through. I didn’t go back for them either, I got too paranoid. There was a time when my suitcase didn’t come through, as well. At the last minute I had put some stuff in it, because I’d forgot to post it. It was an 8-ball [3.5g/ one 8th ounce of cocaine], I think.

And it never came?

No the case came, but it didn’t come through the thing at the airport so I had to wait for it to be delivered. When there was a knock on the door I was convinced it was the worst disguised police. I was ready to get busted. He gave it me and I was convinced the cuffs were going on as soon as I touched it. But it was fine! When I opened the case all my black clothes just had this white powder on the fucking top because the bag had burst open.

Shit.

I was just happy I hadn’t been caught. I was just dabbing away and sniffing my clothes for a while.

Did close calls like that make you consider quitting?

The only thing that really made me stop was the fact that I couldn’t sing anymore without getting loaded. I had a window of about one drink. I would build up to it and I could do it and then after one more drink it was all over again. We did a whole album, actually two whole albums like that - Up At The Lake and Simpatico. I gave up drugs and drinking in April 2006. It’s a day I remember, not something I take lightly.

Was it harder to quit smoking or drinking or coke?

It’s harder to quit drinking and coke, a lot harder. It’s just…I don’t wanna really get into this too much really, but I was married at the time [in LA] and I’d always go looking for her stash after doing mine. She would wake up, and be like “Have you been…you’re high again aren’t you?!” and I’d be like “No!” It makes you lie a bit, coke. It’s a weird drug.

That’s pretty intense.

Yeah, some people think you can just take it or leave it.

But you had dealers meeting you off the plane. Most people would be like, “Well, it would be nice if I could afford it every day” but you literally had it put in your hand.

Yeah well, he would take money off me, too, sometimes! But drugs took me to places I would never have gone to.

What sort of places?

I dunno…I’ve got an image of Tommy Flanagan, an actor who was a friend of ours at the time. Are you familiar with him?

No.

He learnt to act in prison in Glasgow, as soon as he got out he got a part in Braveheart and then in Gladiator, then he moved to LA.

Oh I know who you mean, with the-

Yeah, he’s got the scars on his face. I remember we played Coachella, 2004 something like that, and were at a hotel and Tommy was walking around with a lampshade around his neck on all fours, naked, pretending to be a dog.

Hahaha.

About Tommy Flanagan, there was this mental time when he got his teeth kicked out by another actor. There was blood everywhere.

What happened?

It must have been, probably 2005. My mate Harry the Dog, he was like the drug dealer, said it was the worst violence he’d ever seen in LA.

Jesus.

Yeah, there was fucking blood everywhere. His girlfriend calls up Gary Oldman’s dentist.

Gary Oldman’s dentist?

Yeah. So he rushes over to him and gets his teeth sewn back in that night.

Ouch! Did they look alright afterwards?

Well there was quite a bit of swelling. [laughs]

You mentioned Harry the Dog. He was one of your dealers, right?

Yeah, I had to fall out with Harry the Dog. I had to. It was getting too much, but deep down I fucking love him. The other guy was a Man Utd fan who was totally paranoid but would turn up in the street in a Father Christmas outfit in the middle of the summer. Hide in plain sight I suppose.

Hahaha. Did you ever have any trouble with dealers?

I remember I was in Rockfield studios, where this keyboardist had made a coke deal with these guys in Newport, but then he decided that this guy wasn’t arriving quick enough. So, they went to somebody else and got some and, obviously, never came back. It was only me and Martin at the studio when there was a knock on the door and the next thing I know I’ve got a knife at my throat. He was like, “Are you in The Charlatans?” and I was like, “Yeah,” so he was like, “I need my money.”

Did you pay up?

Nah! Eventually they realised we weren’t anything to do with it.

Lucky.

Yeah, you know, he’s got his own bills to pay.

How did you first find sobriety?

If I was completely honest for that first year after giving up I was “What the fuck? Who am I supposed to be?” If you give up everything you’re left with yourself and you’re quite insignificant in a lot of ways. I had to relearn how to be that person before all the amplification, the vodka for breakfast, the humongous person I’d come to be.

You don’t mind me drinking do you [the interviewer currently has a pint in hand]?

Oh no, not at all! You know what, a lot of my friends do drink and when I first gave up I thought, “Do I alienate myself? Or do I just get the bull by the horns and go out?” After the first week I went out.

How was it?

It was hard.

Drunk people are annoying when you’re sober.

I think the people I hang out with are quite cool. But I put the effort in, let's put it that way.

And sobriety is treating you good?

Yeah, I’m addicted to sobriety. It’s the same amount of work I put into being a drug addict.

The Charlatans are playing some shows to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their album Tellin’ Stories this weekend. Click here for details and to buy tickets.

Tim’s book, Telling Stories, is out now. Buy it here. Tim’s solo record, "Oh No I Love You", is due for release in October.

Follow Josh on Twitter at @joshuahaddow