From the countless garage band collections that threw a great variety of eras and styles onto one LP, the late '90s, led by the leading Teenage Shutdown series, have laid that method to rest by focusing on a particular style with each compilation. On the 11th high-quality volume, a selection of bands who paid little, or no, attention to the British Invasion are featured: all are raucous and a few downright inept. Move It! traces the four-year period of 1964 to 1968 when the Chuck Berry and soul influences of the band's homeland were accidentally adapted to a form of white-trash rock. As a collective, this subgenre of garage is classified as "frat," or in the words of Tim Warren, "frat-stomp," which describe the music's beer-fuelled, teen punk take on R&B totally devoid of any intricacies. This brief era disregarded meaningful lyrics or quality instrumentation in favor of the key elements of R&R: fun and volume. This is music solely for delinquents (which in the '90s are usually media employees of 30-plus with five-figure salaries). Opening with the im-"peck"-able Peck's Bad Boys' "Crazy World," a shouted soul-rap on life's problems, the remaining 18 tracks race along without putting a cog in the works with any hint of vocal harmonies or musical expertise. Out of the hefty weight in cover versions, Dylan's "On the Road Again" (the Deadlys) and Berry's "Johnny Be Goode" (the Retreds) are given a pounding punk rock treatment. While the Buccanneers take on Jesse Hill's "Oop Poo Pah Doo," which a third of the way cuts to the Isley Brothers' "Nobody but You," displays rough and tough white boys mastering the soul basics. In writing originals, a simplistic chord structure akin to "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love," a catchy refrain, and stomp, stomp drums were all that was needed; "One More Time" (the Reasons Why) is a perfect example. And proving that a loud vocal, three chords, and the exemplary solo half way through in songs weren't entirely wiped out by the Grateful Dead, "True Love" by Bobby Runnel's Faux Pas, the latest offering, recorded in 1968, is clear evidence. As with all teenagers, a rude joke never has gone amiss and the Customs Five's "Let's Go in '69," which wasn't about the year, and "Lollipop" by the Royal Coachmen with its lyric rather obsessed by sucking again hint at the juvenile wonders of the "frat-stomp" genre. Yet again, another essential addition to the Teenage Shutdown series that will surely please each and every garage fanatic. ~Jon "Mojo" Mills, All Music Guide
