Bouverie plainly doesn’t much rate 20th-century music, and seems left cold by the English musical renaissance– only two of its alumni, Elgar (whose compositional style was largely German, so it is no wonder the author likes him) and Walton, appear. I suppose it depends not so much on your taste, as on what you want from music. 

I have always sought excitement and inspiration rather than “solace or empathy”, and to share the depths of a composer’s feelings and his wonder at the world. Vaughan Williams (who doesn’t appear at all) did that for me as a small boy when I first heard his Sixth Symphony, which has never been anything other than the most important piece of music in my life. Britten (who doesn’t appear either) did it with his Sinfonia da Requiem, his Violin Concerto and his Spring Symphony. Ravel (ditto) conveys these ideas in his two piano concertos, Respighi (ditto again) in his Roman Trilogy.

If you have intellectual curiosity, listening to one piece of music, whatever it is and wherever it comes from, will lead you on to another; perhaps first by the same composer, then by others of that circle. Sadly, so much music popular today is so not because it is any better than all the rest, but because it constitutes safe programming in concert halls. It is astonishing how much is out there that awaits discovery and proper appreciation, and will never appear on any mainstream list of the hundred, or even two hundred, most admired pieces by any particular critic. 

But the key thing is to get people listening, and to impel them to explore further. Music is important because (like literature) it is such a powerful, straightforward way to understand various societies, at various times. Helping people grasp the great question of culture, and what shapes it, is the value of books such as Pitch Perfect.