Helping musicians when they need it most. 

We all know the power of music to bring us back to ourselves and together. To heal. But who heals the healers, the ones who create worlds of escapism, joy or refuge with their music?

What started as the NZ Music Foundation in 2012 has evolved into a world first: a flourishing community-based support network with a 24/7 helpline for those in the music industry, artists, crew, children, whānau, who need assistance.

And that need is increasing.

“It’s gone through the roof,” says Damian Vaughan, trustee of MusicHelps.

We’re sitting in the cool, zen space that also accommodates one of MusicHelps’ key supporters, APRA, in Edwin Street, Mount Eden. It’s a rich ecosystem and Damian and Community Relationship Manager Carmel Bennett bring their disparate but complementary skills to the music community.

“I’m a life keeper,” says Carmel. “That is really important to me. Trying to get the person who needs help into counselling or other assistance they may need.”

“Everything we do is confidential,” says Damian. “The stories of those needing help are theirs to tell.” But a public testament to the kaitiaki of MusicHelps came from two of Aotearoa’s most loved artists, Dames Lynda and Jools Topp.

“We have a programme called the benevolent fund,” says Carmel. “So if you are unable to work, whatever part of the sector of music you are involved with, due to illness we may be able to provide financial support. We helped the Topp Twins when they were diagnosed with cancer.”

They’ve helped a singer-songwriter who lost everything in a fire, including all her instruments. “Her laptop melted, her whole creative source,” says Damian. “So we were able to get her back on the road with a new laptop and instruments. We’re currently helping an artist who’s been diagnosed with cancer, so we are assisting with her household expenses while she works her way through treatment and processes it.”

MusicHelps has two rungs, says Carmel. “One, which is public-facing, so we allocate grants to organisations that use music to help and heal.”

That could be anything from Raukatauri Music Therapy Centre to a group in Stokes Valley, Wellington, who used waiata for preschoolers and brought together mothers who were disenfranchised and isolated.

"Yes, it got kids into te reo and music, but it also got all these mums talking together about their struggles over a coffee,” says Carmel.

“We put music into bail houses, where these people were walking into an empty room. So, they could pick up a guitar and be able to talk while they were playing. It made a hell of a difference,” she says.

The other side is the music community. “We were the first organisation in the world to develop and contract a 24/7 helpline for our community. It offers counselling services and psychologists.”

And the criteria for support? “Do you earn a living from music? You’re in.”

Therapy has often been described as the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff. But as Damian says, MusicHelps takes a proactive position, even if like many right now, money’s too tight to mention.

“We are a foundation in and of ourselves,” says Damian, “so we don’t qualify for a lot of funding. The nature of our set-up and how we are involved, it’s due to the music industry, primarily. We have the backing of the industry, but we still have to hustle to get money where we can.”

Then there are the educational initiatives. “Victoria University runs the only music therapy masters degree in the country and as of this year, we are awarding our first Master of Music Therapy Award where we give the recipient $8000 towards their first year of study,” says Carmel.

“There’s not much point in us supporting music therapy if there are no therapists. The person who is receiving the award is a songwriter who’s just released a single, an album. So we’re working with the Kate Edger Educational Charitable Trust and Raukatauri on that.”

Carmel has been at the frontline of the industry for decades. She has seen the shift in the kōrero around mental health and wellbeing.

“I started working at the Powerstation in 1990 and at the first Big Day Out in 1994. You used to see people struggling, particularly among males. If you get a sore leg, you’d maybe go to the doctor. But if you’ve got a sore brain, it’s like ‘I’m sweet bro’.”

But the heads are coming up, she says, “and it’s like ‘yeah, you know what, I probably do need some help’. So I think there’s less stigma about treating a mental imbalance no differently than ‘my ankle hurts’.

Damian agrees: “There has been this thing in New Zealand culture: I don’t want to be a pain. But it’s more accepted and people are more able to talk about it.”

MusicHelps has just finished a grants round and will be supporting 17 organisations who provide support across the country, including Mary Potter Hospice in Wellington and Music4Us in Dunedin, which is running music education programmes for disadvantaged kids.

The process for applying for a grant is rigorous, starting with an expression of interest and need that is assessed and sent to a grants committee, of which Damian and Carmel are members.

“We have quite a defined list of what we can and can’t do. So we can’t fund a concert. If you want to put on a concert and bring in a music therapist to help disadvantaged kids get ready for that concert, we can help.”

On a personal level, the mahi is rewarding for both Damian and Carmel.

“For close on 30 years, the music industry has put food on the table for me and my daughter, a roof over our heads,” says Carmel, “and to be able to give back in such a wide variety of ways, we’re bloody lucky. And when I’m out on gigs, to be able to look at a crew member walk in and go, something’s not right here and instantly be able to say ‘Got a minute? Shall we ring the helpline together right now? Shall we?’”

Damian shares the same sentiment.

“Music’s been my life since I left school. It’s sustained my living as well. Certainly, for me, it’s been very cathartic being involved. I come from the music rights and records side of the business and that’s useful for connections. Hopefully, that helps in this capacity to raise money and use that network to further help. The need has gone through the roof. It’s a sign of the times, but it’s also the importance of need and what we do, which we are 100% behind, in terms of kaupapa.”

Music is there in our lives, one way or another, from beginning to the end. From naming ceremonies, dinner parties, heartbreak and, eventually, slipping off this mortal coil.

Music is powerful. Those who make it are largely alone, except for now. As the old saying goes, it starts from the soil. A better metaphor, says Carmel, “might be it starts at the adapter, or the power source,” adding with a laugh, “or the Marshall.”