Austin, Texas, has always been a breeding ground for emerging bands. From the 1960s to the present, the Texas capital has written its own encyclopedia of American pop music, from garage rock to country singer-songwriters, honky-tonk heroes, punk progenitors, and indie rock bands. For every Spoon, Explosions in the Sky, or Okkervil River that is able to find some mainstream success, however, there is a Knife in the Water, the Inhalants, or the Kiss Offs that remains but a local legend. Right now, three Austin bands — the Black Angels, Shearwater, and White Denim — are negotiating that divide.

The Black Angels’ sophomore album, “Directions to See a Ghost” (Light in the Attic), out today, continues the group’s exploration of catchy psychedelic rock. Early Velvet Underground (the group takes its name from a VU classic, “The Black Angel’s Death Song”) and Spaceman 3 are the quintet’s obvious precursors — “Direction” is an album of droning exploration — but the Black Angels also borrow the shambling pop attitude from 1960s acts such as the 13th Floor Elevators (the original Austin rock heroes) and Love. The result is catchy, at times sing-along, and up-tempo music for exploring inner space.

“Directions to See a Ghost,” though, isn’t a patchwork of psychedelic sounds and ideas casually stitched together. Yes, the fluttery, echoing guitar distortion running through “Doves” is a staple of late-’60s rock, as are the sitar-like lines that give “Deer-Ree-Shee” its patina of Eastern mysticism. And, yes, the haunting guitar dancing above the bass-and-drum groove in “Science Killer” is a dead ringer for any number of Spaceman 3 songs.

But the Black Angels update their appropriations with splashes of noisy inspiration and melodic hooks. Three minutes into “Deer-Ree-Shee,” a hypnotic jolt of distorted guitars pushes the song out of its raga-like ’60s vibe into dreamy noise pop, while the bass-line pulse of “Science Killer” bobs and weaves like a sinuous, stalking pugilist, dusting the song’s backing beat with the slinky attitude of English electronica heroes Massive Attack.

Elsewhere, the fivesome — drummer Stephanie Bailey, guitarist Christian Bland, vocalist Alex Maas, organist Jennifer Raines, and bassist Nathan Ryan — erects entirely modern psychedelia using these common building blocks. “Viking” braids together a hesitantly hit drum, a levitating organ line, a vibrating guitar texture, and Mr. Maas’s thousand-yard-stare of a voice to create a lovely dirge. “Snake in the Grass,” a 16-minute instrumental odyssey into mysterious moods and an almost predatory fear, is even more impressive. It’s a prime example of what the Black Angels do best; like the Velvet Undeground, their psychedelia isn’t peaceful and escapist, but ominous and grounded in an uneasy reality. “Directions to See a Ghost” presents a band that appreciates the dark, chthonic forces in the world, and understands that the best way to deal with such things is to know them well.

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Shearwater demonstrates a keen recognition of such forces, too, on its second Matador release, “Rook,” due out June 3. This Austin quartet doesn’t sound like it’s trying to arm itself against the night. Rather, “Rook” captures a band penning a swirling soundtrack for the end times.

That may sound like damning with faint praise, but “Rook,” the group’s fifth album in seven years, is a fascinatingly realized rock album. As led by Okkervil River sideman Jonathan Meiburg, Shearwater writes country rock as knotted and twisted as the unexplored woods of the deep South. Mr. Meiburg pulls off this uncanny musical unknown with one of the more innocuous instruments: the piano.

Mournful piano lines provide the dominant mood on a number of songs on “Rook,” placing a fragile-sounding cradle beneath Mr. Meiburg’s equally fragile falsetto. That’s his preferred vocal range — high and in control — but the songs often push him out of his comfort zone, and that’s when Shearwater becomes a truly monolithic presence.

In songs such as “On the Death of the Waters,” “Leviathan, Bound,” “Rooks,” and “The Snow Leopard,” Mr. Meiburg’s forlorn piano and falsetto introduce the song. Slowly, other instruments creep in, adding layers and forces with which Mr. Meiburg’s voice must contend. A rush of strings leap into “Leviathan, Bound” and send Mr. Meiburg and the song into an almost ethereal excitement. More traditional drums and guitar are dropped into the album’s title track, lending it a more familiar, Southern-rock feel. And on the opener, “On the Death of the Waters,” a Wagnerian explosion of fuzzy guitars and pounded drums rattles the song like a death knell. It’s one of several examples of epic songwriting to be found on “Rook,” as if Mr. Meiburg is thinking less about crafting a rock album and more about operatic grandeur with a folksy template.

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Power trio White Denim is one of the more buzzed-about bands in Austin these days, thanks in large part to its high-energy live shows (the group wowed New Yorkers last month with an opening slot for Tapes ‘n Tapes). As of this writing, a release date has yet to be cemented for its self-released debut album, “Exposion,” but a 7-inch EP, “Let’s Talk About It” (available from iTunes), and a three-song EP (which can be downloaded for free from the RCRD LBL Web site, rcrdlbl.com) capture this trio’s manic energy.

Consider White Denim the actual Southern-fried version of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion — far and away the band whom White Denim’s savvy knack for hot-wired, bluesy, garage rock recalls. The primary difference is that White Denim — drummer Josh Block, vocalist-guitarist James Petralli, and bassist Steve Terebecki — isn’t approaching the sound as self-aware pastiche. The trio plays go-for-broke rock with catchy — if off-kilter — riffs, and extended instrumental pieces backed by bombastic drums and an infectious abandon.

The band instantly kicks off that attitude of reckless energy on its three-song EP. “World Is a Waiting Room” leaps out of the gate with Mr. Block’s choppy percussions and Mr. Petralli’s darting, guitar fuzz, and ambles along at a brisk clip until it takes off into noisy racket. But that’s one of the most fun aspects of this band: The music sounds as though it could explode in a different direction anytime — jazzy, punky, spazzy, bluesy — and never lose its intoxicating pleasure. “Exposion” can’t get here fast enough.