Garage Rock Classics

They came from the U.S., they came from the U.K . . . and, in the case of the Guess Who, they came from Winnipeg. Once rock 'n' roll grabbed young people by the throat, guitar sales soared and kids unleashed their own sounds, finding unimagined expression and freedom in music. Raw and primitive, garage rock cut things right down to the core. From the sad/vindictive howl of heartache ("96 Tears" from ? & The Mysterians) to the chest-pounding celebration of groove and gut (the Kingsmen's "Louie Louie"), these classic cuts are all about feel. And is there any song in all of rock that's more primal or perfect than the Troggs' "Wild Thing"? We think not. Just like that, a movement was born. And in our Next Steps section, the garage door opens even wider.

While a good portion of garage rock was written in that very location, inspiration occasionally struck just a few feet away — namely, the bathroom, where Status Quo singer Francis Rossi went, as he put it, "to get away from the wife and mother-in-law." When he emerged, he'd written the bulk of the group's first single, chart-topper "Pictures of Matchstick Men," three phasing-fortified minutes of psych-pop perfection. With the Nazz, Todd Rundgren channels the Beatles on his classic "Open My Eyes," and psychedelic guitar mates with syncopated Latin freakiness in "Bat Macumba," by the incredible Os Mutantes. "19th Nervous Breakdown" is, of course, pure, snarling Rolling Stones at their bollocks 'n' boogie best. Think you know garage? Dig into our Deep Cuts — we've unearthed some monster tracks that you simply need to hear.

Shoulder your way to the front of the stage and lose yourself in the glorious, blistering abandon of "Je Cherche," by one of the most electrifying French Canadian garage outfits of the '60s, Les Lutins (the Goblins). Then close your eyes, breathe deeply, and float down waves of fuzz to "Tu es Impossible" by Quebec's Les Sultans, before unleashing a large blast of pent-up teen angst during the exemplary guitar solo on "Nice Try" by Les Sinners, who formed in the mid-'60s from the shards of the Silver Spiders. Whatever your pleasure, dig the sweaty simplicity here — just remember to flip off the light switch and close the garage door when the music's over. Oh yeah, and come back soon.

Long before the punk class of '77 deflated bloated rock, long before D.I.Y. became a badge of honor on a uniform already crowded with pinned-on labels, there was garage rock. Simply put, bands learned three or four chords, turned the amps up to 11, and bashed out their own tunes, sublime in their simplicity, luxurious in their loudness. In the mid-'60s some of rock's finest cuts emerged from the garage — from the Pacific Northwest's Kingsmen and "Louie Louie" to the very British Yardbirds and "Shapes of Things." Ted Nugent's Detroit-born Amboy Dukes growled through the blues classic "Baby Please Don't Go," while the Guess Who put a hard-knuckle spin on England's "Shakin' All Over." Paul Revere & The Raiders came from Seattle, the Troggs from London, and the Seeds from L.A. In the end, though, from "Wild Thing" to "Incense and Peppermint," the idea remained the same: say it fast, say it hard, and get out before they know what's hit 'em.