Though it's been tons of fun, the ongoing Psychedelic Revival has distorted our view of the late Sixties. The liberating spirit that inspired rock's most fertile and unfettered period was hardly confined to the garage. Young musicians of every stripe were busy stretching the boundaries of pop, incorporating bits of jazz, blues, folk, country, bluegrass, raga and even classical music while addressing such once taboo topics as sex, dope, politics and religion. Really, the only thing artists on a feisty independent label like Elektra shared was attitude: an all-things-are-possible approach that's brilliantly documented across this four-record set.

The first half of Elektrock presents a cross section that's almost impossibly broad, ranging from baroque chamber rock by Ars Nova and Earth Opera to a grungy cover of Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (sans drum solo) by Wild Thing. There's punchy stuff from the second-string supergroups Rhinoceros and Clear Light, humorous outings from the bent folkies the Holy Modal Rounders and the Incredible String Band, punky nuggets from Luke and the Apostles and Crabby Appleton and soulful grooves from the Voices of East Harlem ("Right On! Be Free!") and Delaney and Bonnie, the whitetrash Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. There are also some revealing early cuts by latter-day stars: the Byrds already had their gorgeous harmonies down when they were the Beefeaters, and there is what executive producer Lenny Kaye aptly describes as "infinitely melodic guitar soloing" on "Arthur Comics," by the Stalk Forrest Group (which would later mutate into Blue Oyster Cult). On the downside, check out Daryl Hall's tentative whimper on Gulliver's "Christine."

The last half of Elektrock sheds some much needed light on four seminal though underappreciated artists by devoting a side to each. Brazenly emotional and absolutely daring musically, Tim Buckley's folk-jazz hybrids paved the way for Joni Mitchell's later work. The seven Buckley songs here only hint at the riches in his repertoire; howzabout a reissue? Love's derivative experiments weren't always as successful, but these L.A. scenesters could pull of both roiling raveups ("Seven and Seven Is") and lush orchestral fantasies. And lead singer Arthur Lee's "Signed D.C." is a chilling masterpiece of postacid paranoia. Finally, the sides by the Detroit insurrectionists the Stooges and the mighty MC5 provide Elektrock's bridge to the present. Try as they might, neither modern-day punks nor heavy metallers can match the 5's athletic abandon or the throbbing, poetic dread of the Stooges' Iggy Pop. By ending on a note this real, Elektrock transcends mere nostalgia and offers some clues as to why the 1960s continue to be so relevant. (RS 480)

MARK COLEMAN