Joe Bussard began swapping records as a Maryland boy because he loved old music; thousands from his collection can now be heard for free through a university archive

A little boy would often dance around his family's record player in Frederick, Maryland. That boy was Joe Bussard. The UCSB Library reports that his love for vintage music by artists such as Gene Autry and Jimmie Rodgers was so strong that he began trading records with his neighbors, and this ultimately led him on a 75-year search for rare music. Many of the songs in his collection are now available to listen to for free in the Discography of American Historical Recordings (DAHR), a database run by the UCSB Library.

Bussard did not stay close to home. According to the library, he traveled all the way into the coal camps of Virginia and even southward from there and knocked on people's doors asking whether they wanted to sell their old records for some money. People felt glad to sell off their dusty records and receive a few dollars in return. The collection he assembled included early jazz, bluegrass, Cajun, and gospel music, genres that influenced the artists he loved as a child. Bussard died in 2022, leaving his family with nearly 15,000 disks, some of which are so rare that they sell for thousands of dollars among serious collectors, UCSB Library notes. A documentary from 2005, Joe Bussard: King of Record Collectors, called him an archivist who helped preserve bits of American music from the 1920s and 1930s, the Jazz Age and the Great Depression.

Why so many old records almost disappeared


Old 78 rpm records break easily, which is one reason so many were lost. They crack, they chip, they collect dust and once a copy is gone, the song on it can be gone too. According to a 2010 study by the National Recording Preservation Board of the Library of Congress, many owners of old recordings kept them out of public reach, mostly confining them to a small number of research institutions. Historians say that without collectors like Bussard, many regional music styles might have disappeared altogether.

A private collection finds a new home

UCSB Library's Performing Arts Collection curator David Seubert said that a collection like Bussard's could not be assembled today since even a very wealthy person could not do it now. Bussard's collection became part of something much bigger; combined with other collectors' collections, they make an approximately 50,000-track archive managed by the non-profit organization Dust-to-Digital Foundation. According to UCSB Library and Mainspring Press, the foundation has been working with UCSB Library to add this music to DAHR, and more than 5,000 songs have been added so far, with thousands more expected soon.

DAHR has been partially funded by the National Endowment for the Humanities since 2008. The database features more than 440,000 recordings from the 78 rpm era, which lasted from the late 1890s into the years after World War II. Recordings in the public domain can be downloaded for free, and others can be streamed for free too.

One collector, a much bigger pattern

Bussard’s story is part of a larger pattern. Ordinary people often save music that big institutions miss. In a 2016 study published in the journal Archives & Records, researcher Sarah Baker wrote that volunteer collectors and small community archives have long played a big role in preserving popular music history, often with little money but lots of passion. That pattern is reflected in Bussard’s own collecting habits. DAHR also contains some rare recordings, such as songs from the blues artist Lane Hardin, recorded in 1935 and released the next year on a Bluebird Records 78 rpm record with very few existing copies. Other artists whose music can be found on DAHR include Memphis Minnie, Eva Taylor, the Reverend J.M. Gates and Fiddlin' John Carson, whose daughter, Rosa Lee Carson, performed under the name Moonshine Kate.

Free listening for a new generation

Dust-to-Digital Foundation is co-founded by Lance and April Ledbetter. They met decades ago over a shared love of old recordings. Their foundation has since won two Grammy Awards for its historical box sets. However, UCSB Library's coverage notes that the purpose was never to bury the music somewhere and then forget about it. According to Seubert, Bussard felt the same way: he wanted people to enjoy the music rather than look at it in a museum behind glass panels. Today, anyone with an internet connection can listen to music that only a small circle of collectors once got to hear.