New from Area Pirata Records, the home of Italian Garage Rock, comes the debut mini-album/EP from Garage/Beat obsessives The Trip Takers. Eschewing modern recording techniques to create an authentic vintage lo-fi analogue sound, The Trip Takers EP revisits the classic mid 60s proto-Nuggets era of American Garage/Psych with six tracks that channel the slightly shambolic records by “British Invasion” influenced bands such as The Groupies, The Velvet Illusions, The Inmates, The Cave Men and Satan & The G Men whose two minutes of fuzzed up teen angst tend to turn up on one of the many Pebbles compilations and the much weirder early acid heads who were the psychedelic trailblazers. The Trip Takers have lovingly recreated these sounds with such an ear for detail that they do sound like songs that could have been recently rediscovered after decades lost in the archives somewhere.
With a mix of Beatles pop smarts and Byrdsian jangle, side one of the EP is firmly rooted circa 1965/66 with the sound of early Garage bands more than evident on the three tracks on this side of the disc. While side one is firmly inspired by early Beat bands, side two sees The Trip Takers exploring wonky mid 60s Psychedelia and sounding not unlike Nashville Psych Pop outsiders The Sufis with three tracks of acid drenched strangeness. Recalling the first wave of acid advocates where the Beat bands began turning on, tuning in and freaking out, ‘Misty Shore’, ‘Above’ and ‘You Are Not Me’ are recreations that tap into the vibe of the times with swirling organ and sitar pushed way up front in the mix. For serious RetroHeads, The Trip Takers EP is well worth your time…
it may not be in anyway original, but that’s not really the point.



“Psychedelia is a state of mind that translates into music, an attitude that produces sounds that should not be self-referential but rather fluid and alive enough to penetrate the mind and the imagination of those who listen to them”. Well what you have just read, I saw you that you were sitting unbelievers, is what you are going to listen to making this ep of the Sicilian Trip Takers, six pieces for just over a quarter of an hour of music. To make it clear how good this record would be enough the first beautiful piece Do not Care About Them, a song that is more Beatles of the Beatles and more Dukes of Stratospheariana of the Dukes of Stratosphear, if you are willing to make a cd mixed to the person you love do not forget this song because it can touch the soul and the heart like few others. But obviously the delights do not stop with the first track but rather continue with the acidic chanting at Someone Else’s 13th Floor Elevators, to the references to the magnificent and too little known Steppes of Misty Store to close with the most psych opious and dreamy piece of the lot the You Are Not Me. The cover, very beautiful in its (apparent) simplicity, and the photo on the back that portrays ours in a pose that recalls that of Graham Day and its Gaolers give a further value to a product already in itself very valid. Only one defect can be found on this record and it is to last too little and to leave the listener eager for more pieces. Defect that as you can easily understand is easily overcome.



It happens to throw on topics learned in certain after dinner demanding where you have to give everything, to win new attention or consolidate the old. It happens to throw on the table still laden strange Latin phrases with great nonchalance, hoping that they pass completely observed and stab in the soft points the bystanders thus transforming us into absolute sovereigns of the night. Here, Nomen Omen is one of those strange expressions that haunt me since childhood, and this I thought listening for the first time the Trip Takers and their colorful Ep debut. We do not know if they are adepts of the beautiful lysergic world, but of the background son of those golden age visions certainly yes. And what music would you say, because if the notes of Pirate Area (label with an enviable peripheral vision) did not speak of a quintet of contemporary Sicilian musicians, it would seem to hear a 45 laps of at least 50 years ago. A sort of wormhole that connects California to England, the years 60 to 2000, always in precarious balance between Beatles and Byrds, between aromatic fumes and hair bob, one granita after another. Nothing is missing from these 6 tracks to make a bang, nor the compositional charisma nor the meticulous nerd retromania that made tools and techniques of analog recording a 2.0 resource. See you soon, hopefully, on stages throughout Europe. At least!



Limiting, superfluous, needless to reveal the origin of this band in its debut.All you ask is to close your eyes and project you into the 1960s at Merseybeat, knocking on the doorstep of Swingin ‘London. Nothing else.
Leave all the rest.
The Trip Takers are authentic, credible temponauts able to transcend the limiting concept of revival to redefine a style full of suggestions of clear Beatlesian ancestry. Their mini album looks like an axial projection of a kaleidoscopic vision of the beat / folk of ’65. (Solo) six songs that are like the fresh morning air when you open the shutters. Or rather, when you opened them fifty years ago.Crystalline melodies, guitars arpeggiate as if they were stroking Jane Birkin’s legs, advancing with their fingertips as if they were the tentacles of a transparent jellyfish.Songs that go down like the manna, read like the feathers of the Byrds (or, in the concluding You Are Not Me, like their carpet, NdLYS) and worthy of the refinements of their compatriots Beau Brummels.For the taste buds of vintage-sound, one of the groups-revelation of this year.

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