That sound you’re hearing (or not hearing, if you prefer irony) is that of dry tumbleweeds floating desultorily through the barren, eroded landscape of the New River Valley music scene. Now, I know what some of you are thinking: What? The New River Valley actually has a music scene?

Apparently, yes. As it turns out, however, it’s ostensibly just as elusive as Big Foot, the Loch Ness Monster, and a dignified Rock of Love contestant. In fact, the existence of this mythical creature has been perpetuated by insistent word of mouth for decades, but manifestation of proof has rarely been more valid than, say, a piece of driftwood vaguely resembling the head of a plesiosaur. For example, if I’m not mistaken, the most prominent band to ever surface from this area, and successfully transcend it, is Yams From Outer Space (technically from Floyd). Taking nothing away from those guys (They were yammin’ and jammin’ in 1993!), they were hardly enough to comprise a music “scene.” OK, now raise your hand if you’re under 30 and know what the hell I’m even talking about. Bueller?

But hey, I’m a pragmatist, and therefore not expecting products of future, national-scale prominence. This is the NRV, after all, not Athens, Ga., of the mid-80s or Seattle of the early 90s, or even Charlottesville of the right nows. (The latter is still clinging Dave Matthews Band to its cosmopolitan teat.) A scene can’t be nurtured without first being created, and local musicians can only do so much with the resources their area provides. So rather than excoriate the dearth of local acts, I point to a more salient factor responsible for the hindrance of a burgeoning musical environment: a criminally short supply of appropriate venues.

As far as major touring acts are concerned, you have two choices—Radford University’s Dedmon Center and Virginia Tech’s Burruss Hall. When was the last time you saw a major concert at either of these locales? Chances are, your answer is Wednesday, the third of I-have-no-friggin’-idea. There are mitigating causes for that, of course, not the least of which is crappy sound quality. Ever see a concert at Burruss Hall? It’s like listening to a yodeling competition at the Grand Canyon.

And there’s basically nowhere for small to mid-level acts, local or otherwise, to cultivate a loyal following. Blacksburg has Top of the Stairs, Awful Arthur’s, and Hokie House, I suppose. But again, when was the last time you saw acts like Band of Horses, Carbon Leaf, Oakley Hall, Wrinkle Neck Mules, or The Decemberists at any of those places?

And therein, ultimately, lies the greater chicken-or-the-egg style paradox of this whole issue. Have you ever actually heard of any of these bands? You should have, because they’re each terrific and a couple of them are even based in Virginia! But that’s the problem: Not only are acts not coming out of the NRV, acts aren’t coming in either. Why? Are there simply not enough venues because there aren’t enough acts coming to warrant more, or are the acts not coming because there aren’t enough venues to warrant a visit? Either way, if you don’t know something exists, you’re not going to be clamoring to consume it.

Exacerbating the problem, and ultimately the primary culprit, is the NRV’s lack of a repository for disseminating sonically rich and innovative new music, i.e., a decent freakin’ radio station. Charlottesville and Richmond enjoy WNRN, which offers an eclectic variety from the likes of alternative, alt-country, indie rock, modern rock and those with an amalgamation of each. Here in the NRV, we enjoy…what? 96.3, WROV? K-ninety—all things Beyonce, Avril Lavigne, Ashlee Simpson and countless other harpies and hacks that make my ears weep inconsolably—two?

Look, if it sounds like I’m advocating music snobbery, I’m not. But please! There’s a whole world out there beyond classic rock, (Hey, ROV folks! How many times can you play Steve Earle’s “Copperhead Road”? And you’re playing Joe Walsh for what reason, exactly?), and K92, inexplicably, simply refuses to play something—anything—that doesn’t completely suck.

At least we still have Blacksburg’s Sud Flood, which I liken to a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field: who cares who’s playing so long as the brew is a-flowin,’ the sailors are a-drunken, and the girls are a-smokin’ (and also a-drunken)? Still, it’s better than nothing.

On Todd Guill’s iPod, you will find various offerings ranging from “Kingpin” by Wilco to “Sick of You” by Gwar to “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys.