Why I Want to Take You Away is the Forgotten Masterpiece of 60s Psych-Soul

Why I Want to Take You Away is the Forgotten Masterpiece of 60s Psych-Soul

Music history is messy. It’s full of geniuses who got sidelined because they didn’t play the corporate game or because their sound was just five minutes too early for the radio. When you look back at the late 1960s, everyone talks about the Beatles or Hendrix. But if you really dig into the crates, you’ll find I Want to Take You Away, a track that basically defined the transition from flower-power optimism to the gritty, psychedelic soul of the 70s.

Honestly, it's a vibe.

Most people know the song as a standout track by Sly & the Family Stone, featured on their 1969 album Stand!. But calling it just a "song" feels like an understatement. It’s an anthem of escapism. At a time when the Vietnam War was tearing the U.S. apart and the Civil Rights movement was at a fever pitch, Sly Stone was offering a literal exit strategy. He wasn't just singing about a vacation. He was singing about a higher state of consciousness.

The Gritty Magic of the Recording Session

The production on I Want to Take You Away is weirdly ahead of its time. Seriously. Listen to the percussion. Most bands back then were using standard kits, but Sly had Greg Errico playing these syncopated, driving patterns that felt more like a heartbeat than a drum track. Then you have the chanting. The "Higher! Higher!" refrain isn't just a backup vocal; it’s a command.

It hits different.

The Family Stone was one of the first truly integrated bands in mainstream rock—both in terms of race and gender. That diversity wasn't a PR stunt. It was the engine. When Larry Graham’s fuzz-drenched bass kicks in on the track, it creates this thick, muddy wall of sound that somehow feels light as air. They recorded most of the Stand! album at Pacific High Recording Studios in San Francisco. The energy there was chaotic. Sly was notorious for staying up for days, pushing the band to find a sound that felt "nasty" but spiritual.

There's this one specific moment about two minutes in where the horns—Jerry Martini and Cynthia Robinson—just explode. It’s not a clean jazz riff. It’s a scream. They were trying to capture the feeling of breaking free from the "concrete jungle," a theme that would later dominate Sly’s much darker masterpiece, There's a Riot Goin' On. But here, in 1969, there was still hope.

Why the Woodstock Performance Changed Everything

You can't talk about this song without talking about 3:30 AM on a Sunday morning in August 1969. Woodstock.

The festival was falling apart. It was raining. People were tired, hungry, and tripping on questionable acid. Then Sly & the Family Stone took the stage. By the time they got to the "Higher" chant in I Want to Take You Away, they had 400,000 people shouting in unison. It’s widely considered one of the greatest live performances in rock history.

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Why? Because it was communal.

Unlike the solo guitar heroics of the era, this was a group effort. Sly was the conductor, but the audience was the instrument. This specific performance turned the song into a cultural touchstone. It shifted from being a groovy B-side to a revolutionary manifesto. If you watch the documentary footage, you see faces in the crowd that aren't just watching a show—they’re having a religious experience.

The Lyrics: More Than Just a Trip

Some critics at the time dismissed the lyrics as "hippie drivel." They were wrong.

  • "I want to take you higher" (the core refrain)
  • "Beat is getting stronger"
  • "Music that's getting longer"
  • "Too hard to hold it"

On the surface, yeah, it sounds like it’s about drugs. And let’s be real, it was 1969; drugs were definitely in the room. But Sly has stated in various interviews over the decades—before he became a recluse—that the song was about the power of the "groove" to erase social boundaries. When he sings I Want to Take You Away, he’s talking about taking the listener away from the prejudices and the "bull" of daily life.

It's actually pretty radical if you think about it.

He was telling a divided America that the only way out was through the music. He wasn't preaching politics; he was preaching rhythm. It was a "lifestyle" song before that was even a marketing term.

Technical Brilliance Often Overlooked

Let's get nerdy for a second. The song uses a deceptive structure. It doesn't follow the standard Verse-Chorus-Verse-Chorus-Bridge-Chorus format. Instead, it’s built on a repetitive vamp. This is a soul music technique, but Sly layered it with rock textures.

  • The Bassline: Larry Graham practically invented the "slap" style here. It’s percussive and melodic simultaneously.
  • The Vocal Trade-offs: Notice how the lead vocal jumps from Sly to Rose Stone to Freddie Stone. Nobody owned the spotlight.
  • The Distortion: The guitar work is jagged. It’s not the smooth blues of Eric Clapton; it’s the distorted, funky scratching that would later influence Prince and George Clinton.

The Darker Side of the "Taking Away"

Eventually, the dream soured. Sly Stone’s personal life became a whirlwind of drug addiction and paranoia. The man who wanted to take us "higher" eventually crashed. By the mid-70s, the optimism of I Want to Take You Away felt like a cruel joke to some.

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But that doesn't diminish the song. If anything, the tragedy of Sly’s later years makes the pure, unadulterated joy of this track even more poignant. It was a snapshot of a moment where it felt like music actually could change the world.

Critics like Greil Marcus have written extensively about how Sly Stone represented the "myth of the American community." This song is the peak of that myth. It’s the sound of a band that believed in its own message. They weren't just playing for a paycheck; they were playing for their lives.

How to Truly Appreciate the Track Today

If you really want to understand the impact, don't just listen to the remastered digital version on Spotify. Try to find a vinyl pressing of Stand!.

There’s a warmth to the analog recording that gets lost in translation. You need to hear the hiss of the tape. You need to hear the way the brass section slightly clips the microphone. It’s supposed to be raw. It’s supposed to be loud.

And for the love of everything, don't listen to it on tiny phone speakers. This is a "room" song. It needs air. It needs to bounce off walls.

The Long Tail of Influence

You hear I Want to Take You Away everywhere, even if you don't realize it.

Sampled by countless hip-hop artists.
Covered by everyone from Ike & Tina Turner to Janet Jackson.
Used in commercials to sell everything from cars to soda.

It’s ironic, really. A song about escaping the mundane world of consumerism and war has become a tool for the very things it sought to transcend. But the core of the song remains untouchable. When those first few notes hit, you aren't thinking about a Super Bowl ad. You're thinking about that 1969 feeling.

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The genius of the Family Stone was their ability to make complexity sound simple. It takes a massive amount of skill to make a song that feels this loose and improvisational while being tight enough to keep a stadium of 400,000 people in sync. They were a machine made of velvet.

Actionable Steps for Music Lovers

To get the most out of this era and this specific sound, you should do a few things.

First, watch the Questlove-directed documentary Summer of Soul. It features incredible footage of Sly & the Family Stone at the Harlem Cultural Festival—the same summer as Woodstock. It provides the necessary context for why this music mattered to the Black community in 1969.

Second, compare I Want to Take You Away to the songs that followed it on There's a Riot Goin' On. Listen to the transition from "Higher" to "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)." You can hear the optimism curdling into something funkier, harder, and more cynical.

Finally, try to learn that bassline. Even if you don't play an instrument, look up a breakdown of Larry Graham’s technique. It will change how you hear every funk song written after 1970.

The song is a bridge. It’s the bridge between the Motown era and the Parliament-Funkadelic era. It’s the bridge between the Civil Rights era and the Black Power era. And honestly? It’s still the best way to spend four minutes and forty-eight seconds if you just want to forget the world exists for a little while.

Go put it on. Turn it up. Go higher.