RIP Joe Bussard

 How many records do you have and what will happen to them when you die?  This is actually a question that I've contemplated off and on over the years.  I have a pretty decent CD collection.  I don't buy as much anymore now that I'm retired and streaming has come into our lives.  But what I have is pretty impressive.  I have no idea how much it's worth or whether there are big money collectibles buried in the archives (as I call them). 

  The question about passing along a record collection has come up again after the passing of Joe Bussard.  With over 15,000 vinyl records, Bussard was a king to many record collectors.  His archive consisted of pre-1955 early old timey Country, Gospel, Blues, Folk 78 rpm's/singles/albums.  But he seemed to love his 78 rpm's more than any other format. He could be a cranky individual. Bussard would tell interviewers that no good Jazz records came out after 1933, Country after 1955. And he hated Rock 'n' Roll. 

  I first became aware of Bussard from a 2002 collection called Down In The Basement, which consisted of 24 sides selected by Joe. From there various mini-documentaries began to pop up on YouTube, and all were amazing to watch.  The reaction Bussard got while playing one of his favorite cuts was a joy to watch.  That's the power of music!  About 10 years ago a weekly one hour radio show he hosted from his basement began to appear in podcast form.  And I made it a habit to listen to it as all these amazing records came out of his collection.  

  It's not clear if Bussard made plans to preserve his collection.  Library of Congress? A university? He said no.  But he did tell an interviewer in 2012 that he'd like to see his records sold at an auction. These records tell a story of early 20th century life.  There are fabulous moments that we still need to hear.  Luckily, in 2012 a non-profit called Music Memory digitized Joe's collection. An important task in case something tragic would happen to it (fire, flooding). 

  As for my own modest (compared to Joe's) records, I once told my wife and son that you can do whatever you want with them when I'm gone.  If there's money to be had in there, it's all yours.  Give it away for free?  It's up to them. But after Bussard's death, I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this approach.  These records tell the story of my life as well as the ones Bussard loved.  To have the best of them sitting in a Goodwill store gathering dust doesn't seem right.  What all this means is that I'm going to spend some time looking over what I have.  Something I haven't done in years.  Hopefully, I can connect with these records again with the same euphoric joy Joe Bussard did with his 78 rpm's.