Heroin in Tahiti – Casilina Tapes


This music will get you higher than the stratosphere smoking its first blunt. 

Seriously, I’m not fucking around. This shit is dangerous. This is “do not operate heavy machinery while listening” type of shit. This is “The Big Lebowski dream sequence” type of shit. This is “Hunter S. Thompson watching the crawling floor pattern” type of shit. If you took the pure essence of psychedelic music and cut into it until an opaque, milky sap poured out of it; then took that sap and put it on some drying sheets until it turned into a gum-like substance; then took that gum-like substance and boiled it in a mix of water and lime until a white band of film formed on top; then took that white band of film and reheat it with ammonia, filtered it and boiled it down again until it turned into a brown paste; then took this paste and dried it in the sun until it looks like dense modelling clay; then took a piece of this clay, put it on a spoon, added some heat, then injected this strange musical goo into your veins, that’s what this music is like. 

Heroin in Tahiti is the product of the Italian duo Francesco De Figueirdo and Valerio Mattioli. They don’t do many interviews. There aren’t many write-ups on these motherfuckers. Supposedly they’ve even forgotten the password for their band’s email address. But they still have quite a following. Their shows are all located in Rome, their hometown. All these two care about is the end product. 

Most “Heroin in Tahiti” albums have a central theme to it. A kind of motif that the album sticks to: water, the sun, shit like that. This album, instead, is a collection of songs that didn’t stick to the desired format. They’re still great fucking tunes, they just didn’t make the final thematic cut. Because of this, this album works as the perfect introduction to the band. There are songs on this shit from across their discography. Some people describe their sound as “Italian Occult Psychedelia” which, to me, doesn’t mean a fucking thing. I’d rather call this shit psychedelic drone with some beats and surfer guitar added on top. Even Valerio, in a rare interview, says, “Francesco wanted to play drones, I wanted to play the twang stuff, we met halfway.”

If you’re in the mood for pure, undiluted, uncut and clean psychedelia, then Heroin in Tahiti is your fix. But, unlike the drug, this shit won’t make you drowsy, lethargic, nauseous, confused; it won’t give you dry mouth, itchy skin, a slowed heart rate, bluish hands, feet, and lips, fucked up teeth and gum swelling, sleeping problems, fucked up libido, shit appetite, depression, memory problems, anxiety, and the hardest fucking shits of your life. Instead, these motherfuckers take a single perfect imaginary moment of sitting on a calm beach in Tahiti, more stoned than an old testament whore, and they turned that shit into sound. It’s pure psychedelic sonic injection. 


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