VA - Last Of The Garage Punk Unknowns Vol. 7 & 8 (2016)

While that description isn't 100-percent accurate geographically (the White Angels were from Switzerland, and a combo called the Sonics – no, not those Sonics – were comprised of American kids whose families were living in Thailand), musically it's close to the mark. Many of these tunes fall somewhere in the vicinity of folk rock, or at least something with a significantly more measured approach than the average high-attitude rantings common to '60s garage sounds. And a bunch of this stuff sounds significantly more sophisticated than what most sullen high schoolers were up to at the time. "Without You" by the King's Ransom is moody stuff with clever use of rhythms and melodic stops and starts. The lean, wiry guitar figures that carry "Natasha" by the Glas Menagerie suggest early psychedelia fused with the Velvet Underground. The Other Side's cover of "Dark Side" by the Shadows of Knight trades in the cockiness of the original for a powerful plea that's just as effective. We the People (not the Florida band of "Mirror of your Mind" infamy) manage to have it both ways as "Always Lies" opens as a quiet, sorrowful number and builds into a scream-fest for lead singer Peter Weeple. The Saxons deliver plenty of tough guitar work on "The Way of the Down," which also includes some overly optimistic applause and cheering clipped onto the beginning and end. And the New Rumley Invincibles find some humor amid the heartache in "Living with the Birds," which suggests the band had been listening to birds and Byrds. Even the most ordinary bands on this collection deliver solid stuff, the remastering makes the best of the source materials, and the entertaining liner notes offer as much information as is known about the artists. (Though someone must have been really excited about the essay on Pasco, Washington's the Pastels, since it appears here twice.) If you want to get in touch with your inner 16-year-old who just got stood up for the Prom, Last of the Garage Punk Unknowns, Vols. 7-8 will deliver the perfect soundtrack for crying in your root beer. (Or real beer you swiped from your dad.)