Thursday, July 14, 2016

Re-visiting the Early studio rules

It has been a long while since I have specifically spoken of the loose studio rules of the 1890's recording business. This fascinating and very understudied subcategory of 1890's recording has always been kicked aside from how shameful many of the oldest surviving studio stars behaved when speaking of this. Someone like Dan Quinn would have been infamous for shunning all of his old colleagues for their awful drinking habits, though he was part of it to some extent. He did not drink, but he did not offer to help any of his suffering friends.
 A cartoon I did mocking Quinn's temperance, and Hylands' carelessness. 

Of course, to Quinn, none of that mattered when Hylands was getting him much more profits from selling sheet music with his picture on it. With all of this sin, to Quinn's judgement, the studios were rife with impropriety, from the day that Russell Hunting decided to make those smut cylinders in 1892. It was clear that Columbia was a much more free, yet somewhat indecent place compared to the proper and tightly restricted Edison company. 

Quinn and J. J. Fisher must have found Edison a much more properly run place to work and make records than Columbia, as there was no drinking allowed, and certainly no drugs of any kind as well. It helps that at Edison their studio pianists had good intentions and habits. The Rag-Time pianist even had the kindest demeanor and best habits, and that is a real thing! Columbia was the place for the progressives and hustlers to work, under free and democratic conditions that allowed any means of doing so. Edison was for those who wanted a clean and good place to work overall, where the singers and performers were not integrated into the staff and management. There's a reason that Edison cylinders all sound the same to some extent. 

Columbia was where the genius misfits worked, from their beginning, that was how it was. It was much like how Berliner was at the same time. In the mid-1890's, Berliner was an interesting place to work, as Fred Gaisberg was able to tell the tales of working there in his writings for all of us to later read. He saw pretty much everything that we know about the inner workings of early Berliner. Now to refer back to the title of this post, Gaisberg had to once deal with this chap:
George Graham. 
 Graham was the infamous drunk that those young Berliner team workers got a big laugh out of when he made records in 1895-96. Gaisberg once described that he and the other young Berliner staff had to make a stand for him when he made records, since he would often get so drunk that he couldn't stand straight. It was all fun and games for the Berliner team, as dealing with him was much more fun than it needed to be. Of course, Gaisberg found this despicable, as he was against having the artists drink in studios, but his colleagues couldn't help but enjoy his shenanigans. 
You can hear a few of his great records here.
He's fascinating to listen to, regardless of the often slurred and hard-to-understand statements and words. Gaisberg was one of those early studio people who found drinking in studios to be shameful to the company's reputation, even though the fact would not have been spread anyway, he just did not like it one bit. It was a good thing that Gaisberg was working at Berliner while the Columbia people were becoming that elite group in 1897, and especially when Fred Hylands came in. 

Columbia's drinking rules were almost non-existent in the late-1890's, as the management trusted their studio stars enough to allow drinking in their main studio rooms. As can be expected, there were the studio stars who drank most every time they came in the studio, and there were those who didn't do so nearly at all. As can be guessed, one of the worst drinkers after the infamous George Graham, was...
Len Spencer.
There aren't really many examples of formal writings about his drinking, but there are hints of it when looking through The Phonoscope, as he was one of the most frequently mentioned studio stars there. One of the best hints of this was a section from the August 1898 issue of you know what:
Hmm. That's a good hint mister Hunting. I wonder if it's the same watch that we can see the top of the chain in the picture of him above...
We know that Spencer drank, regardless of reading about it or not, as his records oftentimes show for it, if you're listening close enough that is. I have heard many of Spencer's great brown waxes from 1897-1901, and they never fail to please, no matter what the tune be. Some are better than others as can be expected from him, and much of this is due to his studio drinking. He was just getting started with doing this by 1896 and 1897, but when Hylands came in, well, it was just going to get worse from there. Since Hylands had such a high alcohol tolerance(durr, the man was over six feet tall and three hundred pounds...), the drinking with him was almost daily when he came to the studio. Oftentimes, the good thing about Hylands was that when he drank, it took a while for things to start getting weird in his playing and speech, not that his speech wasn't already hard to understand...  
One good example of how strange his playing could get is his mid-1899 take of "Turkey in the Straw" with Billy Golden. It is very strange, quick, and far too complicated for most ear players to understand. It's not tame at all, as I have heard some recordings he made in 1899 with some of his publishing firm friends that sound completely sane and are much less scattered than the one listed in the link. His playing still got weird even before 1899 when he was the leader of Hylands Spencer and Yeager, as you can hear his weird and very unsteady playing on most of George W. Johnson's records from 1898 to 1900, including this one here, and also on this one.  It's strange, I have heard a few Dan Quinn Columbia records from 1898-1900 where Hylands sounds drunk, but of course Quinn isn't, and that is very strange to some extent, as I would think that Quinn(according to his letters from the 1930's) would have demanded that Hylands not drink when he made records, and would have found it despicable, but I guess not. But then again, I have also heard records where Hylands sounds just fine behind Quinn, not(technically)weird or unsteady. 
Like I've told my friend Ryan Wishner, sometimes Hylands was not exactly harmonically right in the head, which always makes for interesting listening, but many of his style characteristics in this sense were not common for the time period.  This was not helped when he drank in the studios. 

A good example of all three of the performers being pretty tipsy on is one that I have shared before for this very purpose, but it always gets the point across. Here's Spencer and Harding's "Larboard Watch" from 1899, with Hylands of course. This one always gets the point, as the first thing to notice is Spencer's announcement, which I have heard a few times sounding like it does on this cylinder. It's certainly not his more swift and lively announcements that we can hear on many of those Columbia orchestra recordings from the same time, such as on this one here from 1897. The announcement on the "Larboard Watch" cylinder reminds me a little of his on this one here. 

And yes, back to the Spencer and Harding cylinder, Harding drank indeed, as being one of Hylands' close publishing associates wouldn't allow for being Mr. Temperance like Quinn. Hylands and Harding were also good composer friends in 1898 to 1901, as we know of Harding's venture into being a composer was a much talked of subject among the "Columbia Clan" and the other record company staffs around in that period. Such as this pretty piece of music:
Hylands also published this in 1899, but I cannot seem to find his publication of it. This is from a little bit later. Harding was a prominent member under Hylands' rule of the publishing firm, so it's no surprise to hear him sing not very well with Spencer on a Columbia from around the time that the firm began. He was also the one who opened that phonograph parlor in 1897 to later have gatherings there with all the Columbia stars, so Harding was another one of those studio drinkers. Of course, he couldn't drink as much as Spencer and Hylands because he was so much smaller than they were.
A recording I would love to use in proving this point on Spencer's part is his 1899 recording of "Warmest Baby in the Bunch", but I can't do that. I will say, however, that that cylinder is a fantastic example of Hylands and Spencer's great musical understanding, but also a great example of what they both sounded like when very tipsy, as that is the most extreme of the exampled I have heard as far as Spencer and Hylands go. Hylands gets all weird and pushy with the rhythm, but the problem is that Spencer isn't much better in that aspect. It's kind of a mess, but it sounds fine if you're not really nitpicking everything on the record. It's becomes more interesting when you're doing that though. The record is a mess, but it has a lot of strange aspects to the piano playing that Hylands didn't usually play, whether drunk or sober. Since this was all true in Columbia's late-1890's studio, it makes listening much more interesting for those who have ears that can hear those mistakes and off-key singing. 



Hope you enjoyed this! 





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