Because it starts with embryonic rockabilly and wholesome teen idolatry and ends in the confused fog of psychedelia, the Mascot set is not unlike the endless supply of Joe Meek compilations that you find on Amazon.

Like the star-crossed British producer, Curtis believed wholeheartedly in early Buddy Holly rock 'n' roll, made some adjustments to the game-changing Beatles, and then lost interest when drugs took all the fun out of rock. Curtis wasn't as nearly as eccentric or passionate as Meek -- his platters were made to capitalize on and promote the music that was popular in his teen dance venues, Stage 7 and the V.I.P. Club.

But it does have its moments of lushly orchestrated soda-shop rock -- and some just plain weirdness, such as local teen dream Frank Fafara's self-penned ode to idolatry or oppressive three-digit heat, "Golden One" ("The Golden One shines down / Shines down on the land / He crushes some before him / Leaves the others stand"). And there's the well-adjusted 1961 death-disc "Angel of Mine," wherein Nick Landers just wants to be left loving his teen angel without any voice-cracking hysterics.