Pots of gold at the end of the '60s

As I type, I'm watching an interview with Condoleezza Rice on Jim Lehrer. It's a talk-a-lot-but-don't-say-much affair. It's got me thinking: I've been trying to keep track of current events for, let's say, three and a half years now. You know what I've learned? Nothing that I couldn't have just by picking up today's newspaper and reading it all the way through. \nI'm addicted to news. But get this: 75 to 80 percent of all news is at least bad, sometimes tragic. That's three and a half years of primarily bad news! Yeah, I know the one about the seal that saved a drowning dog, I don't care. Our nation is in a positive uproar because some of us saw a boob on network television during a game in which the participants wear pants so tight you can almost count their future kids. Did you see the testimonials in Congress? One lady was crying! Over a boob! You have two half-wit!\nI need a break. A good long Kit Kat-sized break for my brain. One that won't distract me from the world but instead give me the strength to deal with the crap I disagree with. If you know this column at all, you know I'm talking about rock and freaking roll. But not just any old rock. Though, literally, it is old rock -- I'm talking about the hundreds of unheralded garage rock bands expertly represented on Rhino's Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era 1965-1968.\nSpanning the latter half of the '60s, these two box sets contain four CDs each. Each CD is at least 75 minutes long with about 27 tracks. Let's do some math (it's been a few years, but I think I can manage). 4 times 75 is 300. Double that, it gives you 600 minutes. 4 CDs multiplied by 27 tracks is 108. Though I'm prone to exaggeration, telling you that each and every one of these 36,000 seconds is gold is a statement of fact. Think of "Wild Thing" 200 times. That's the consistency of these sets. \nAnd what's more, you've probably only heard 10 of these tracks, 15 at most. However, the ones you have heard -- "I Want Candy," "Louie Louie," "Wooly Bully" -- demand the kind of attention you've probably never given them before. Just as Buddhists urge one to really eat a peach, not just consume it, this set forced me to really listen to "Wooly Bully" for the first time. Do you know what? "Wooly Bully" is as flawless and complex a creation as "Hamlet" or "The Mona Lisa." It's Biblically awesome. "Uno … dos … one, two, tres, quarto! Bwaah! Bwaah! Bwah bwah bwah bwah …" \nThat Tex-Mex tale of a wooly beast-monster isn't even the best song on the first volume (which features only U.S. groups). That honor arguably belongs to Love's "7 and 7 Is." A curiously titled early punk rocker, this song speeds by while jamming with the white-hot intensity of our Sun's nuclear core. In fact, the song is punctuated with the sound of an almost orgasmic nuclear explosion, followed by a somber fall-out jam. It's hot, hot stuff. Anyone who hears it immediately flips for it.\nYet, I've noticed the same goes for just about every other song in either box. It's almost annoying how perfect everything is. Why didn't most of them chart in their time? Well, consider the competition. Between Motown, the Beatles and the Stones, it wasn't really fair game back then for anything less than transcendent. Still, how could so many bands create hundreds of diametrically perfect one-offs? Before the Beatles helped make the album the common rock staple it is now, the single was key. All a band had was three minutes and a B-side to prove themselves That's why every track on these collections was done with stunning urgency. Most of these kids knew there were thousands of groups who wanted to be the next Beatles, so they just contented themselves with two rock songs and put everything they had into them. \nIn a way, these sets are just testament to how immediate and shocking the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Who were. The second volume, The British Empire and Beyond, features music from regions no one knew were rockable -- Brazil, Japan, Australia and the Netherlands. Dude, even then, they rocked just as hard as the Yanks. Occasionally, some of these bands even edge out the Beatles. If you don't believe me, acquire the song "I See the Rain" by the Marmalade and tell me it couldn't have replaced a couple tracks on Magical Mystery Tour.\nThere are just metric butt-loads of quality all up in here. "Save My Soul" by Wimple Winch rocks harder than Keith Richards with a bazooka. A modern-day rock band would be hard-pressed to come up with something as novel as "Friday on My Mind" by the Easybeats. This list, while not quite endless, is long and rockin'.\nSo if you're troubled by the goliath of Comcast and Disney, childish world leaders or the fleeting image of a boob, mellow out and refuel with either of these two towers of rock. Prolonged satisfaction guaranteed.