If you listen to a certain kind of raver — the veterans, the ones with greying ponytails who were having it large in the nineties — you’ll hear it whispered: ecstasy isn’t what it used to be. Back then, the high was described as warm, loving, euphoric; today’s pills are often called harsher, more clinical, more wired. The magic, they say, has drained away.
But why is this? The Freaky investigates and discovers that the difference may not be just nostalgia talking.
In the 1990s, much of the MDMA in circulation was made from safrole-rich sassafras oil. When labs switched to different chemical routes in the late 90s after global restrictions, the resulting batches weren’t always the same. Different synthesis methods can produce different side-products and impurities if the crystals aren’t purified carefully. Some of those trace compounds, carried along with the MDMA, might have subtly coloured the experience — rounding it out, softening it, lending that “loved-up” feel that ravers still reminisce about.
MDMA’s Humble Beginnings
MDMA’s story doesn’t begin in a warehouse rave but in a German laboratory in 1912. Pharmaceutical giant Merck synthesised it as part of a patent for other drugs, shelving it without much fanfare. Decades later, maverick chemist Alexander Shulgin rediscovered it and introduced it to psychotherapists in California. By the early 1980s, MDMA had escaped the therapist’s couch and found its way to the dancefloor. When the US banned it in 1985, its fate was sealed: ecstasy became the chemical heart of rave culture.
But the question of how it was made would matter just as much as who was taking it.
Safrole: From Root Beer to Raves
The classic route to MDMA runs through safrole, an oil found in the bark and roots of the sassafras tree (Sassafras albidum) and other plants. Safrole can be converted into MDP2P — the key intermediate for making MDMA.
In the 1980s and 90s, sassafras oil was available in bulk, sold for perfumes and flavourings. Dutch chemists seized on it, producing enormous quantities of MDMA with high yields and good purity. This era — the “sassafras years” — coincided with the golden age of rave, when ecstasy felt not just potent but uniquely loving.
Many users didn’t know or care about the chemistry. What mattered was the experience: the sense of connection, the overwhelming empathy, the softness of the high. Only later, when things changed, would they look back and wonder what made it feel so different.
The Clampdown
Authorities eventually caught on. In 1990, safrole and isosafrole were placed under international control. By the mid-90s, large seizures of sassafras oil shipments in Asia and Europe disrupted supply chains. Sassafras harvesting in the US was restricted.
The result was a bottleneck. Without safrole, many labs couldn’t produce MDMA at scale. Into the void flooded “ecstasy” tablets bulked out with whatever was cheap: amphetamine, caffeine, DXM, ketamine. This was the era of the “dodgy pill,” when ravers learned the hard way that not every tablet with a smiley face on it was friendly.
The myth was born: the real ecstasy is gone, and it’s because we lost the sassafras.
New Routes, New Chemistry
But clandestine labs are nothing if not adaptable. By the early 2000s, they’d found an alternative: PMK glycidate. This compound could be converted into the same key intermediate, MDP2P, without needing safrole. For years it wasn’t controlled, making it the perfect workaround.
By the 2010s, though, regulators caught up again. PMK glycidate was restricted, and labs shifted once more — sometimes synthesising their own intermediates, sometimes starting from chemicals like piperonal, a common fragrance ingredient. The chemistry evolved in response to each new ban.
On paper, the MDMA at the end of each route was identical. But in practice, things weren’t so neat. Each synthesis carried its own impurities, and those impurities could slip into the final product if purification wasn’t meticulous.
The Impurities Theory
Here’s where the science and the folklore intersect.
- Safrole-derived MDMA may have carried tiny amounts of related aromatic compounds if the process wasn’t perfect. These trace impurities could have subtly softened the effect, giving a rounder, warmer high.
- Alternative routes like glycidate, especially when performed by less experienced chemists, could leave harsher by-products. Users described these batches as speedier, more jittery, less “loved-up.”
It’s important to stress: pure MDMA is pure MDMA, regardless of how it’s made. But few pills on the street are truly pharmaceutical-grade. The impurities, even in minuscule amounts, may have contributed to the character of the high. Enough, perhaps, to explain why 90s ecstasy felt different.
Was It All in the Mind?
There’s another explanation: nostalgia. The first pill always feels magical. The first rave feels like stepping into another universe. By the 2000s, rave was no longer new — it was commodified, policed, mainstream. The sense of discovery had dulled.
Psychologists would argue that much of the “ecstasy isn’t what it used to be” narrative comes from memory, not chemistry. Cultural context changes perception. A pill in 1992 wasn’t the same as a pill in 2002 because the world around it had changed.
And yet, the chemistry can’t be dismissed. When veterans describe a high that was more loving and less wired, it maps neatly onto the idea that early MDMA was produced with fewer shortcuts, from a precursor that carried different impurities. Myth and molecule intertwine.
Myth vs Science
To separate legend from reality:
- Myth: Ecstasy in the 90s was stronger because it came from sassafras.
- Science: The MDMA molecule is identical regardless of precursor; strength depends on dose, not origin.
- Myth: You could always tell by the smell.
- Science: Safrole and its derivatives do have a distinctive aroma, but most 90s ravers never mentioned it. Smell isn’t a reliable purity test.
- Fact: Different synthesis routes can leave different impurities. Those impurities, however subtle, might colour the experience.
Sassafras as Symbol
Perhaps the power of sassafras lies less in chemistry than in symbolism. It represents a lost Eden of rave: a time when the music was new, the culture underground, the pills reliable. When the sassafras supply dried up, so did that innocence.
Even if today’s pills are stronger — and forensic testing shows many are — the rave veterans remain unconvinced. Stronger doesn’t mean better. Stronger doesn’t mean softer. What they miss is that ineffable warmth, the communal heartbeat of a crowded warehouse, the feeling of love without edge.
Sassafras is the ghost they cling to, the tree that shaded their youth, the root of a high that has since hardened into muscle.
Conclusion
So, was 90s ecstasy really different? The sober answer: maybe. Safrole-based MDMA might have carried impurities that subtly altered the experience. Modern routes may yield a cleaner but harsher-feeling drug. Or maybe the difference lies not in the pill but in the people — older now, jaded, longing for the wide-eyed wonder of their first dance.
Either way, the legend endures. In the folklore of rave, sassafras isn’t just a tree. It’s the memory of a time when the world pulsed with bass, and love itself seemed to pour from a pill.
Top Ten Legendary UK Ecstasy Pills of the 1990s
1. White Doves
The archetypal rave pill. Small, chalky, often off-white, and spoken of with near-religious reverence. To many, “Doves” were the 90s.
2. Mitsubishis (3-Point Stars)
Stamped with the car logo’s triple diamond. Mid-to-late 90s icons, infamous for their potency. “One Mitsi and you were sorted all night” was the legend.
3. Rolex Crowns
Pressed with a regal crown. A prestige pill in the late 90s, shorthand for quality.
4. Love Hearts
Tablets embossed with hearts — perfectly in step with the “loved-up” atmosphere of the early rave years.
5. Snowballs
Plain white, no logo, but highly sought after. Their minimalist design only fuelled their mystique.
6. Ferraris
The prancing horse made its way onto presses. Branded speed and luxury for the chemically minded.
7. CKs (Calvin Kleins)
Fashion-conscious pills stamped with the designer’s initials — part of the cross-pollination of rave and consumer culture.
8. Smurfs
Blue-coloured tablets, sometimes cartoony-stamped, often whispered about as unpredictable but iconic.
9. PlayStations
Late-90s entrants stamped with the console logo, reflecting the cultural handover from rave to bedroom gaming.
10. Pink Champagne
Luridly pink and sold with a reputation of decadence, these tablets embodied the glitzier end of the scene.
Note: Pills with the same logo varied wildly in strength and content. For every legendary Dove or Mitsi, there were dodgy copycats. But the names themselves became part of rave mythology — talismans traded in hushed tones on dancefloors across the UK.