Artists visit Thailand to kick drug habit p8
shouldn’t be in rehab at my age,” says 28-year-old Andy*. As a music festival organiser, he curates events all over Europe, and is, as he puts it, “immersed” in drug culture. In rehab for cocaine addiction, he’s also one of the increasing number of professionals aiming to make the music industry a safer place for those with substance abuse issues. The music industry’s love affair with drugs will never end. A singer’s mercurial whims and vices are tolerated, enabled and even celebrated, and, of course, the scene’s drug culture is one of its attractions. But there does exist a large number of people — not only artists but promoters, tour managers, crew and organisers — who are in recovery and lack a support network. “In the industry there’s a huge pressure to use,” Andy says. “If you’re in a social situation and you’re not participating in whatever’s being done, you definitely feel … well, I thought I felt rejection, which is complete nonsense. No one cares what you’re doing.” Kicking a drug habit is a hell of an achievement, but the bigger challenge for creatives is leaving rehab and returning to the industry where they make their living. “We can’t just start selling doughnuts,” Andy explains, halfway through his first month at Dara Rehab on Koh Chang. Thai rehab has been on the map since the first private international treatment facility opened in 2008. Thailand, with its reputation as a hedonistic party destination, may seem like an incongruous rehab hub, but, as Dara’s group programme director Martin Peters points out, drugs are everywhere and “If [users] want something they’ll find it.” So why Thailand? “If you compare what you would get in a treatment programme here and the UK or US, programmes there are three or four times the cost,” Martin explains. “Privacy is important, and people can get away from their environment here. There’s less distraction. But the reality of going back home can be daunting, especially for musicians that leave treatment and go straight out on the road.” Wandering the grounds of Dara Rehab, its appeal is obvious. The ocean is always visible through the trees, and the soundtrack is birdsong and the occasional passing car labouring up the steep road that bisects the facility. Dara nestles in the lush greenery of a Koh Chang mountain that slopes sharply down to the sea, in a former luxury resort with all the trappings — pool, gym, spa and beach access — except, of course, a bar. At US$8,000 (255,000 baht) it’s not cheap, but it’s cheaper than a 5g-a-day coke habit. Around half of the clinical staff are in recovery themselves, and can provide visceral understanding and empathy. Right now they’re taking care of 21 clients, all foreigners, who start the day with compulsory 7am exercise sessions, ahead of a busy schedule of group and one-on-one therapy sessions. Lunches are communal, and consist of excellent nutritious food and friendly conversation, before monkeys emerge from the trees and minesweep the tables for scraps. Weekends are for supervised shopping or island-hopping, and, for clients beyond the second month of treatment, scuba diving in the crystal-clear waters surrounding Koh Chang. That Thailand has become a rehab hub for the music industry (not that the government or the Tourism Authority of Thailand are pushing it as such) is in part due to its famous alumni — Pete Doherty, The View’s Kyle Falconer and a multitude of incognito A-listers — and in part due to the efforts of Dara’s Clinical Lead, Harry Mulligan, who came of age in the US grunge scene and later became a music journalist and biographer of Creation Records founder Alan McGee. Through his connections and some very good word of mouth, Dara is becoming a top choice for creatives who are ready for recovery. In one sense, all substance abusers share commonalities of causal behaviour, therefore treatment programmes are similar. Mulligan’s family systemic approach, for instance, takes clients back through their history to discover and understand traumas and begin the healing process. Once those issues are addressed, he’ll move on to behavioural changes needed on their return home. “There are three things that need to change — your playgrounds, your playmates and your playthings,” Mulligan says. “So for somebody embedded in the music world, historically that’s been difficult to navigate clean and sober. However, there are massive movements within the industry to help creatives with mental health problems and drug and alcohol issues. You quite often go to festivals and see drug-free areas. Two organisations — Music Support and Music Cares — are working on establishing safe areas backstage. It’s about giving artists the tools for them to continue being who they are but in a way that can protect their recovery.” Post-Dara, Andy hopes to be an agent of change on his return to the UK. His approach is positive but pragmatic. “You’re never going to remove drugs from the industry, but it’s about giving people guidance and support.” Organising a sober festival is out of the question, as his audiences’ (and artists’) main priorities are alcohol and drugs, but he’s aiming to protect the back-end production teams. “An artist comes for an hour to play, but we’re on site two weeks before. Everyone’s using [drugs] together. I’m going to put measures in place to prevent that happening. I’m trying to set up an organisation that’s a support network for people working in the industry.” A few hours to the west in Chon Buri, Chris Craker is looking to set up a recovery initiative at his recording facility, Karma Sound Studios, in collaboration with the Amy Winehouse Foundation and Eric Clapton’s Crossroads facility in Antigua. “Of almost every band that hires [Karma] to make an album,” Craker says, “within that group of people, one or more have been in or are about to go into rehab”. Craker hosted Pete Doherty at Karma for seven months during his rehabilitation, which sparked an idea of how he could help creatives in recovery. “I thought it would be really cool to designate some time at Karma two or three times a year for people that have been in primary care,” he says, referring to the day-to-day care given by professionals at places like Dara. “Karma cannot be a rehab centre but it can provide secondary care once you’ve done one to three months of rehab. You can come here and be creative and know that you’re in a safe, walled, CCTV-d environment where we understand the problems and will give support — not just with our creative services but having people here doing 12-step stuff and hosting meetings. It’s our way of giving back.” For further information on treatment at Dara, visit dararehab.com. The Thai government also has addiction treatment centres throughout the country, details of which are available at pmnidat.go.th.
There are three things that need to change — your playgrounds, your playmates and your playthings