David Chase, creator of “The Sopranos,” has been responsible, either directly or indirectly, for a group of good ideas much larger than has ever been required before.

Apart from having created what now stands as the best show on television, he also was smart enough to fill the show’s episodes with music–a lot of music, of many different styles and eras. From the moment the British house band A3 brings up the curtain with the scratchy, scary “Woke Up This Mornin,'” each hour features great, great music used to fantastic and memorable effect.

One need only look at the show’s two soundtrack albums to get an idea of the loving care with which they’ve been assembled. Perhaps most noticeable are the albums’ variety.

R.L. Burnside shares space with Frank Sinatra, Ben E. King with The Police. Aside from being merely eclectic, though, the songs flow together with surprising consistency, never jarring the listener with the stylistic switch.

Chase and company have clearly combed through the archives, finding obscure artists (A3, Pigeonhead, The Lost Boys) or lesser-known tracks by established greats (“My Lover’s Prayer” by Otis Redding, “I Who Have Nothing” by Ben E King). Steven Van Zandt, longtime Springsteen associate who plays one of Tony Soprano’s underlings, also gets his shot, bringing the soul on “Inside of Me.”

The music selections clearly reflect a real attempt to fill the episodes with the most suitable music, not merely to create the conditions for a high-selling soundtrack record.

Because of this incredible consistency, it is infinitely possible to listen to the two “Sopranos” soundtracks without having seen any episodes of the show. But, apart from simply being great, effective music, the songs used in “The Sopranos” often act as another actor, illuminating scenes and creating new dimensions to character motivation and plot development.

Sometimes the desired effect is obvious, like the first season’s use of Bo Diddley’s thumping “I’m A Man” as the backdrop for a killing by Christopher Moltisante, an ambitious upstart played by Michael Imperioli. In other cases, however, the song chosen by Chase and his associates adds a level of complexity to the show’s already complex emotional matrix.

Kasey Chambers’ “The Captain,” a beautiful country ache, is a perfect example of this. Used as end-credit music just after the beginning of Tony’s third-season affair with Gloria Trillo (Annabella Sciorra), “The Captain” hints at the murky psychological waters that Gloria (and now Tony) are embarking into. Without the song, the affair appears merely a matter of lust, when subsequent episodes (and perfectly pitched acting from James Gandolfini and Sciorra) bring out the darker truth. (Then again, lust is not forgotten, as The Lost Boys’ raucous, Stones-like rocker “Affection” pulsates through one of their encounters.)

Any viewer who has seen the way in which songs like Dion’s “I Wonder Why,” Nils Lofgren’s “Black Books,” Nick Lowe’s “The Beast In Me” or The Rolling Stones’ absolute masterpiece “Thru and Thru” are utilized will never forget the scenes which they accompanied. That is surely the point.

Appropriately enough, last season ended with music. This time, though, it was a song performed by a cast member within the context of the episode. “Core N’Grato,” a ballad sung in Italian by Dominic Chianese (who plays Uncle Junior), provided the perfect ending for a most tumultuous and uneasy season of television.

As the camera panned over the faces of the characters, Chianese (who sings far better than anyone expected) delivered this slow, mournful ballad, perfectly encapsulating the dark hole into which all of the show’s characters seemed to be falling further and further.

It was a perfect synthesis of sound and vision and a representative example of the way in which this superior program has synthesized sound and vision over the past three years.

I can only anticipate what wonders will be performed this season.