Today, however, gospel is too often relegated to a holy corner, treasured by believers and attracting some curious collectors but generally unacknowledged as the central source it is. That’s why carefully remastered, meticulously presented boxed sets like When I Reach That Heavenly Shore: Unearthly Black Gospel 1926-1936 are so important. At first, such collections might seem merely novel — a bunch of dusty stuff communicating ideas within a framework so antiquated, the music has come to seem mystical. But spend real time with this collection, and you’ll discover humor, craft, cleverness, profundity and an open-eyed connection to the culture of the time. Come for that unearthly vibe, but dive in deep to find something beautifully human.

The 42 tracks on this compilation come from the private stash of Christopher King, a revered, Grammy-winning collector, engineer and record producer whose restoration work has shed brilliant light on a wide range of prewar music, from the blues of Charley Patton to Greek folk violin to Third Man Records’ famed Paramount project. Unearthly Gospel has the intimate feel of a passion project — King’s liner notes mostly consist of quotes taken from his father’s 1939 copy of the King James Bible. Initiates will recognize some tracks and many of the featured artists (much has been reissued by the British label Document and thrown up on YouTube by aficionados over the years), but the material has never been available in the U.S. in such pristine and well-curated form. In his notes, King observes that “the most powerful music … has an effect that is both ineffable and carnal,” and in striving for that balance here, he has created a historical soundscape full of interconnected details.

There is “I’ll Be Rested When the Roll Is Called,” by the guitarist Roosevelt Graves and his tambourine-virtuoso brother Uaroy — a rolling dance tune that some have praised as the first rock ‘n’ roll record. “Canaan’s Land” by the evangelist Blind Gussie Nesbit presages the rough and mighty sound of midcentury Chicago blues. Ensembles like the Primitive Baptist Choir of North Carolina and the Laurel (Mississippi) Fireman’s Quartette show the influence of vocal group styles from shape note singing to the barbershop. The proto-psychedelic East Texas preacher Washington Phillips is represented by a sermon, “Train Your Child,” that leads into a lovely reverie he plays on the zither-like instrument he modified himself. Henry Thomas, a titan of Texas blues, is a vibrant presence on the jaunty, almost Caribbean-flavored “Jonah in the Wilderness,” while Chicago’s all-around talent Mother McCollum earns four tracks, with and without her Sanctified Singers.

Scattered among these amalgamators of pop, folkways and divine fervor are the preachers whose charisma and literary chops had such an impact on the church communities of this era. None is more regal than the Rev. A.W. Nix, who has two sermons here; but the blues-obsessed Rev. Emmett Dickinson is racier in “What the Men Wanted the Women Was Sitting On,” and as far as inventiveness goes, it’s hard to beat the Rev. J.M. Gates, who may have coined the popular midcentury phrase “there’s a dead cat on the line” to describe a child who, perhaps because of a woman’s adultery, doesn’t resemble his father. (Listen to the sermon to appreciate his full analogy.) Invoking the news of the day, these preachers provided the glue that made biblical lessons stick in the contemporary moment, and their offerings are both highly entertaining and intellectually rich.

From the hard bench warmed by these discourses to the teeming sidewalks where gospel guitarists had to be flashy to gain souls’ attention, King traces the wildly vibrant outlines of a moving stage where gospel told the African-American story. The sound of Unearthly Gospel does sometimes seem supernatural, bringing these long-buried voices so richly to life. But most of all, the music here speaks deeply of the world where it first came to life — a world every music lover needs to understand in order to really grasp how today’s sounds eventually took hold.

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Show host Jay Bruder—a human encyclopedia of D.C. music history—will spin nothing but pre-1970 D.C. music for two hours starting at 7 p.m. The show is also a celebration of sorts: It kicks off Bruder’s third year on Bluegrass Country’s airwaves. “I always dedicate the anniversary show to Washington-area artists,” Bruder writes in an email. Accordingly, he plans to crisscross the region Sunday night, focusing on local music of all genres recorded in the 1940s, ’50s and ’60s.

Here’s a sampling of the songs Bruder plans to play this weekend:

Terry and the Pirates, “What Did He Say”

“This is one of the hottest rock and roll records ever cut in Washington,” Bruder says. “It features a kicking back beat, honking sax and a screaming guitar break. The suburban Maryland band from the late 1950s was a prototype for hundreds of local garage bands that followed in their footsteps.”

The Rainbows, “Mary Lee”

Recorded for the Harlem-based label Red Robin in late 1954, “Mary Lee” by The Rainbows was “one of those records that never charted at the time of release, but in the ensuing decades has become a standard among vocal-group fans,” Bruder says. He adds that the song was meant to taunt a member of the ensemble, whose girlfriend was named Marion Lee. Over the decades, The Rainbows drew in a number of talented locals, including Don Covay and John Berry—but rumors that Marvin Gaye sang with them don’t hold water.

Sunday, Bruder also pledges to feature some rarely heard a capella gospel by The Silvertones, a group that recorded for Lloyd’s Novelty and Curio Shop on Massachusetts Avenue NW during the 1940s. (Bruder’s website, dcrecords.org, has more background on the record-cutting variety store.) Don’t look to the Internet to find Silvertones recordings: As Bruder says, “You’ll need to tune in to hear this one, because it is not on YouTube.”

Hometown Special airs Sundays from 7 to 9 p.m. on WAMU’s Bluegrass Country, 105.5 FM. Image by Flickr user Martin Thomas used under a Creative Commons license.