Courtesy of Dust-to-Digital
Joe Bussard, the report collector and American roots music historian, died Monday. Lance Ledbetter, founder of Dust-to-Electronic, confirmed the loss of life to NPR by Bussard’s daughter Susannah Anderson. Bussard experienced been battling pancreatic most cancers for almost 3 years. He was 86.
Bussard was born July 11, 1936 in Frederick, Md. From an early age, his passion was preservation. He sought out obscure 78-rpm documents that normally would have disappeared: jazz, blues, bluegrass, place and folk recordings from the early 20th century — the heritage of The united states, pressed to shellac. In time, he amassed countless numbers of records all saved in his basement, none of them in any order besides the a person in his noggin.
But Bussard failed to just acquire previous data, he made new types. As a teenager, he started out Fonotone, a label that introduced 78s when no a person else was, and centered on hillbilly, bluegrass and fingerstyle guitar tunes becoming produced at the time, which includes some of celebrated guitarist John Fahey’s earliest recordings. From 1956 to 1969, Fonotone documented what Mike McGonigal named “a diverse (and hardly ever noticed) side to the folks revival, one particular originating less in the tutorial or protest sectors, and a lot more from the collectors’ perspective.” In 2005, Bussard worked with Ledbetter to compile the label’s catalog as Fonotone Data: Frederick, Maryland (1956-1969) — the five-CD established, fantastically housed in a cigar box, was nominated for ideal boxed or exclusive minimal edition offer at the 2006 Grammys.
Bussard’s private selection has also yielded Down in the Basement: Joe Bussard’s Treasure Trove of Vintage 78s and Joe Bussard Presents: The 12 months of Jubilo — 78 rpm Recordings of Music from the Civil War, compilations that transport the listener to one more place and time. But additional than something, Bussard just beloved to share the music. “If I begin participating in data, I never want to stop,” Bussard told NPR’s Steve Inskeep in 2003. That generosity bore out in a number of radio displays he hosted throughout AM and FM dials, but in particular at his household in Maryland.
“He cherished people,” Ledbetter tells NPR. “He liked to hook up people today as a result of songs. He was a fountain of understanding, but he beloved to share.” Even as late as this yr, admirers visited Bussard’s basement to listen to data from his assortment — “that meant a good deal to him,” Ledbetter adds. You can see that giddy exhilaration in the 2003 documentary Determined Man Blues, but even much more a short while ago in a brief video clip posted by reporter Joe Heim, when, immediately after positioning the needle on a beloved document, Bussard’s eyes just sparkle.
On a pay a visit to to Joe Bussard’s famous basement previously this 12 months I produced this limited video clip of him playing what he thought of 1 of the biggest recordings of all time, Blind Willie Johnson’s “Dark was the night, Chilly was the ground.” RIP Joe pic.twitter.com/Gs1CNqzdGw
— Joe Heim (@JoeHeim) September 27, 2022