Mildly entertaining I suppose, but what was the bit in the methadone clinic where everyone looked shamefaced and avoided eye contact with each other all about? Places like that are more like a school reunion/friends re-united type of thing IME. And the idea of a "seasoned junkie" being unable to score in a town like Blackburn stretches credulity somewhat - The former milltowns have been awash with it for decades.
Session musician turned session junky. Bland, boring, uneventful, completely lacking in insight and a blatant rip-off. It's a novella stretched out to novel format. Those addicted to junkie tales are being lumped in with the 'true crime' audience as easy marks who'll read anything. Even the blurbs that drew me to this seem to be referring to his earlier book. This one really isn't worth reading. There is no craziness and certainly no art.
If you like this kind of reading you won't be able to put it down. He doesn't try to surround it by forced literature, to give excuses and blames, it is brut and honest the 'diary' of someone who lost it along the way somewhere. I enjoyed it very much!