The last generation of Southern blues musicians is passing on, and they’re taking their music with them. One foundation is working to preserve their voices.

At first, Tim Duffy was just trying to help a few friends. In the process, he was saving the blues.

In 1989, Duffy was a music producer living in Winston-Salem, N.C. He moved among unique blues circles composed of older Southern musicians that he says were “not often seen by a young white guitar player” like himself.

These artists—in spite of having great talent—were barely scraping by. They lived on meager Social Security checks and the money they made singing for nickels and dimes. Duffy felt compelled to help.

“It started as a gut reaction,” Duffy said in a phone interview. “A lot of these artists were living in awful poverty, and having to make decisions every month—like whether to pay the electric bill or buy medicine, or even just take two shots of vinegar instead.”

In the beginning, Duffy had no money to spare, but he did have some time and an old van. He began driving artists around town to buy groceries, pay bills and get money orders. He would drop everything to “roll tape,” producing and recording music at a moment’s notice. He secured record deals and found tour dates. Still, the artists were fighting to make ends meet.

“When we meet them, the artists are often 80 years old already,” Duffy said. “And so we really needed to get an aid program, because touring and records aren’t always a viable option for them.”

Duffy brought the recordings  to audio innovator Mark Levinson, hoping for advice.

“He came to New York with a cardboard suitcase stuffed with cassettes,” Levinson said. “I started listening, and I was completely blown away with the music and the fact that there are living guys making this music. It was like this treasure chest of America, the great music of the world.”

With Levinson’s expertise in the audio world, Duffy’s efforts got a boost in 1994 and quickly became a nonprofit known as the Music Maker Relief Foundation. In 2000, Duffy and his wife Denise officially dedicated themselves full-time to its expansion. Today, the Foundation helps artists with everything from their daily needs to the circulation of their music.

The Snake Lady, a blind singer and a one-armed bluesmen: get to know a few of the musicians the Music Maker has helped to survive in three short videos.The Music Maker Foundation

To qualify for aid from the Foundation, the artists must be rooted in a Southern musical tradition, be 55 years old or older and have an annual income of less than $18,000.

Duffy’s work has expanded over the last two decades into a veritable movement. His elite circle of supporters includes B.B. King, Eric Clapton and Bonnie Raitt, among others. His organization now provides aid to over 200 musicians.

In 2004, Ryan Costello established the Foundation’s annual Congressional Blues Festival in Washington, D.C. A lobbyist at the time, Costello used his connections to raise about $50,000 the first year through corporate sponsors. It attracted 400 people in its first year; this year, he expects over 8,000 people to come to the free Festival in April 22 and 23.

Five years since its beginnings, the annual Congressional Blues Festival has netted almost a quarter of a million dollars to date, all proceeds of which go directly to grants for the musicians’ needs.

“Money always helps, but these artists want a hand up, not a hand out,” Costello said. “A hand up, as Tim Duffy has taught me, is more than writing a check. Now these artists have careers. And we get access to and recordings of this great American music.”

Four years ago, blues player Adolphus Bell was homeless and playing guitar for a hot dog or some change. With the Foundation’s help, he is now on his feet and recently went on tour abroad.

For the most part, these musicians and their albums don’t generate significant financial returns. Duffy’s label, named Music Maker, has only signed one group that he claims has really taken off on the national level: the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Internationally, the Foundation has had more success.

“America is a pop culture,” Duffy said. “We chew up our young and throw away our old. So there’s not really a place for this stuff. Whereas in France, they like the most esoteric of the best.”

The foundation’s French label, Dixie Frog, launched its first record right after Hurricane Katrina and sold 12,000 copies. Duffy considers that number to be a great success. Record sales are also hitting their goals in Argentina, Australia and most of Western Europe.

Essentially, Duffy and his supporters are not after huge profits, and selling records is hardly their biggest challenge. It’s keeping investors interested in the preservation and celebration of these rare gems of the American South, whose numbers are waning.

“It’s important for American society and culture to have these fabulous men and women in their 80s and 90s recorded,” Costello said. “I think we lost 13 artists last year. I mean you can’t say it lightly—they’re dying.”

And, without Duffy and the Music Maker Relief Foundation, these artists might never have been heard.

“Blues in the States is the ghetto of the ghetto of the ghetto of the music industry,” Duffy said. “But to me, they’re a link: the grandsons and granddaughters of the people who created America’s music. Without their family lineage, we wouldn’t have rock and roll, and jazz and all the rest.”
Watch a video of Music Maker superstars the Carolina Chocolate Drops perform live, and listen to the jukebox with songs handpicked from the record label’s collection.