Brainticket have been buried deep within the recesses of my mind for at least forty years. I first came across them during the scag years. Synthetic heroin flooded Merseyside in the late seventies and early eighties. I wasn’t a participant, but I knew some who were. There was also a rush on very strong cough medicines at the same time. Actifed and Phensedyl being particular favourites. Anyway, if you couldn’t get hold of any scag or methadone, you could try your local pharmacy and see what they had. If they saw you coming, then more frustration would await. Once equipped, back to a squalid flat or bedsit to be accompanied by Hawkweed or some other far out purveyor of sonic bliss. The organ stabs on ‘Black Sand’ are instantly recognisable, and take me back to a place I don’t want to revisit. I got out alive though.
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