My favorite jazz podcast was always “The Check Out.” Produced and hosted by Simon Rentner on the New Jersey public radio station WBGO, it was a program devoted to the very latest and best in contemporary jazz. Did I like everything that I heard on the program?  Most assuredly no: I won’t spend a lot of time listening to jazz/hip-hop crossovers. 

Still, I was happy to hear every artist he presented and interviewed, especially since Mr. Rentner had a marvelously internationalist purview; the final episode earlier this year includes an excerpt from an earlier show that documented the reunion of two South African jazz giants, Abdullah Ibrahim and the now late Hugh Masekela. 

Because “The Check Out” is gone, the fact of its absence serves as incentive that I should do what I can to help spread the word about those other exceptional shows that are still with us.

First a caveat: The podcast medium is not an ideal vehicle for listening to music. That remains the province of traditional deejay radio — though in saying that, I have to acknowledge that the two deejays whom I most looked forward to hearing, Phil Schaap and Rich Conaty, have both gone on to that big broadcast in the sky.  

Podcasts aren’t supposed to play hours and hours of music the way old-fashioned AM and FM shows can: each track has to be licensed and paid for as if it were an album, and podcasts become unwieldy to distribute and consume if they’re more than an hour long. However, this is an ideal medium for talking about music, illuminating some aspect of it or bringing to life a backstory.

In a sense, it may be incorrect to describe “Broadway to Main Street” as a podcast, seeing that it originates as a standard “terrestrial” radio show on WPPB 88.3FM from Long Island and then makes the rounds on the podcast platforms afterward. Host Laurence Maslon, who has written scores of books on musical theater and teaches the subject at New York University, casts a wide net and addresses a diverse range of Broadway-centric topics. 

One week he’ll do a deep dive into an iconic show; the next he’ll take a look at the career of a prominent composer, producer, or leading lady.  Wisely, he casts a wide net, and the show’s title, which is also the name of his most recent book, refers to the diverse ways in which show music has reached middle America. Thus, he’ll not only play cast albums — of course you’ll hear Barbara Cook and Patti LuPone — but also jazz and pop interpretations, Sarah Vaughn and Tony Bennett.

Then there’s what is generally acknowledged as the best podcast about country and western music. “You’re listening to ‘Cocaine and Rhinestones,’ the podcast about 20th century country music and the lives of those who gave it to us. My name is Tyler Mahan Coe. I’ve heard these stories my whole life. As far as I can tell, here’s the truth about this one.”  That’s how Mr. Coe begins each installment. 

Mr. Coe is the son of David Allan Coe, the songwriter and singer usually described as a “Nashville Outlaw” — and whose “You Never Even Called Me by My Name” is the mandatory end-of-night singalong in C&W saloons from Brooklyn to Birmingham. When the younger Coe talks about something he doesn’t like, such as a non-country artist “covering” a country classic, he has the whiny tone of one of those toxic fanboys you meet at ComiCon.

Yet when he talks about something he approves of, which is the vast majority of what “Cocaine and Rhinestones” covers, he is both endearing and engaging. The show, launched in 2017, has only had two seasons thus far, both excellent. The first was an omnibus of general topics, including a memorable audio essay titled “Breaking Down Merle Haggard’s ‘Okie from Muskogee,’” which convincingly established that the better country songs, no less than Cole Porter songs or other show tunes, are capable of irony and multiple shades of meaning.  

The second season of “Cocaine” revolved entirely around the legendary George Jones, including in-depth profiles of his producer, Owen Bradley, and his most famous wife and musical partner, Tammy Wynette. Mr. Coe plays brief excerpts to illustrate his points — to use full tracks would be neither necessary nor legal. Consisting of 18 very full episodes, this is an epic biographical and musicalogical study, more than 35 hours of info and critical observations on a seminal American musician, delivered in a way that’s more vivid than either a print biography or a traditional video documentary.  

If there is another, comparable jazz podcast that I should be listening to, one that contains deep history or surveys the contemporary scene, please let me know. In the meantime I eagerly await the third season of “Cocaine and Rhinestones,” and listen each Sunday to “Broadway to Main Street.” Mr. Maslon is unique in that he has got me humming tunes even from shows that I ordinarily turn my nose up at, like “Les Miz” and “Cats.”