Style Crossover and more Digging

Since the last post, my sole interest in Fred Hylands has been re-sparked. This interest is more regarding his family than his own life, but for the sake of all your sanity, I will skip over all those discoveries, as it's all rather complicated and difficult to explain without speaking in the flesh. 

All I can say regarding this matter is that Hylands definitely looked a little strange for a reason, and that his hair was almost certainly a vibrant firey red. 

I hope you can all see it now. 

Time to move on!

With this reawakening of Hylands interest, this has also prompted a lot more listening to his records and dissecting his style. Like any time that I get on kicks of doing this, I pick up on and notice small things in thoughtless moments. One thing that I have long wondered about is whether Fred Hager listened to his fellow studio pianists before he took over Zon-O-Phone's piano chair in 1900-1902. We can assume that Hager listened to all those other pianists, and even came to know their sound and characteristics well, considering his position in his early recording days. So with all these studio pianists, it should be generally assumed that they all heard each other, considering that they were the ultimate insiders in the business. Each of these pianists had to listen to their records, just to get by and make sure they knew what they were doing. 
Edward Issler certainly listened to his own orchestra's records, as he was so early in the business that he was also the engineer for many of his own recordings. This must have been protocol that Issler established, as he was the first studio pianist there was, anything he did became where the bar was set. So consider that Issler was Frank P. Banta's studio mentor(as I am almost certain he was), with that in mind, Issler would have taught young Banta how to play for the phonograph, how to announce, perfecting timing, and of course would have influenced his playing. This mentorship began in 1892, and it likely lasted until at least 1895, around when Banta was making records with his own orchestra. 
This is actually where this idea came from, Banta's Orchestra. That very concept was almost certainly inspired by Issler. Banta's Orchestra had the same instrumentation as Issler's, and even had a similar sound and played similar repertoire. Recently I grabbed one of those(outstanding) CDs that Tinfoil put out quite awhile ago, just because of the few Banta's orchestra tracks they had on there. I have been studying those quite carefully in the last few weeks, and pairing them up with Issler's orchestra records from around the same time. The similarities are quite shocking really. 
So here are two examples of Banta's orchestra, both were recorded in 1895 or so: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11738

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder10472

Now listen to two records by Issler's orchestra from around the same time that are of very similar selections:
https://archive.org/details/DancingOnTheHouseTopByIsslersOrchestra1890s

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8101

I picked these particular Issler records because they are very similar selections, the first is a typical syncopated 1890's dance, and the second is a sketch with lots of talking and strange affects. Every one of these four records was recorded around 1895. I am fully convinced that Banta spent a his first few years in the studio with Issler, learning the ropes, and putting together his own Issler-like ensemble. So with all that in mind, it would make sense that some of the earliest Banta accompaniments would sound an awful lot like Issler's playing. So it makes sense why I've become rather confused after learning that Banta began recording in 1892. Banta and Issler crossed over for a little while at North American and later Columbia(before Hylands came along), so it would entirely be logical for Banta to sound a little bit like Issler, particularly since Banta had an impeccable ear. Anyone Banta worked with often would rub off just a bit, and that's guaranteed. 

(Banta in 1900 or so)
There are a handful of records I can think of where Banta seems to have been channelling Issler's playing, and this is especially so whenever I hear Banta play a schottische. Take this record for example: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17203
This record is a classic example of a very authentic yet progressive schottische. This is what Banta took from Issler, the straight and very steady rhythm. Much like Issler's records, if you count the beat throughout the record, the tempo remains exactly the same at the beginning as at the end. 

But did Banta listen to the others? 
I would assume that too, as those Edison people were always listening to the competition, whatever their position was in the studio. Banta would have known about Hylands at Columbia, as it seems that it was quite a hot thing when he was just starting there. The new fangled "rag time" proved well with the Columbia people, as Hylands attracted some attention that their previous pianists just hadn't. Integrating one of the new hot "rag-timers" was ambitious, but also definitely a fascination. Banta being a still young veteran of the business would have caught on, and probably listened to quite a few of Hylands' accompaniments on records, to brush up(or roughen rather) his own rag playing style(that was already well established from traveling around with Ossman and from who knows what else). 
A good example I can think of is Banta's 1903 Edison of "The Whistling Girl", as in 1897 we don't really hear Banta play that steadily rollicking rag-time, but in 1903(sadly at the very end of his life) we can hear that something like Hylands' records helped him solidify that style. 
Here's the 1903 record:
(skip to 3:30 for the music to start!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=groIZgk0EJU
So compare that with the 1898 Columbia of "Medley of Negro Songs" by Billy Golden and Hylands:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YTVVTR1BlamV3SHdRWmNGSWU3MHRLR2JkdXRZ/view?usp=sharing
For an even more definite comparison, here's the 1903 Edison of Golden's "medley of Negro Songs" with Banta! 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder2649
(It's kinda messy and transferred too fast, but you get the point). 
It's actually quite similar, despite the time difference. Now Banta likely helped to arrange this medley in the first place in 1898, but when Hylands got a hold of it, you know Banta was compelled to listen and dissect it. Hylands and Banta play the same bell affect at the "hear dem bells" on both takes, which is astounding.  Once again, I am pretty sure that the medley originated with Banta(the arrangement at least), but after it was recorded a few times Hylands took from Banta and Banta took from Hylands. 

Also, listen to one of the many edison and Columbia takes of  Billy Golden's "Turkey in the straw", this is another selection that proves well for distinguishing Banta and Hylands, and what they heard from each other. 
Here's one of my favorite Hylands takes of "Turkey in the Straw":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgsxttjZ6FY
This particular take very inventive and folksy. Hylands even throws in a few blues like melodies, more so than others I've heard scattered through several records. 
Here's the classic 1897 Edison "turkey in the straw" by Golden with Banta:
https://archive.org/details/TurkeybyGoldenwBanta1897

This is the classic take where Banta plays "Mister Johnson Turn me Loose" at the whistling choruses, which is quite genius. Now you may notice that on the 1898 Columbia, Hylands goes off quoting his own thing(I have no idea what it is he's quoting), but on a certain later Columbia-Hylands take, Hylands plays exactly the same quote, and even integrates the chord changes of "Mister Johnson" throughout the song(which is strange and doesn't really work to be honest):
https://archive.org/details/TurkeyInTheStrawGoldenandHylands1899
In some kind of way, whatever it was, Banta's way of playing the tune with Golden influenced Hylands. One thing is for sure, we can safely say that the 1898 Columbia take is quite older than the 1900 Columbia with Golden. 
I am not quite sure who took from whom here, but there was definitely some inspiration taken, whichever one of them done it. 

Now back to Hager. I mentioned Hager earlier in this post, and I intend to return to him. Where does Hager fall in all this studio pianist crossover? Well actually, Hager can be considered the descendant of the Issler-Banta-Hylands studio style. Hager was in the business by 1897, when it was the ideal time to be listening to piano accompaniments(particularly for a young hot-blooded music student like Hager), so it would seem entirely reasonable for him not only to have a phonograph to hear them, but also to head out to the theaters and clubs they were playing at. Hager likely frequented Pastor's theater in 1896-1897, when ben Harney and Mike Bernard were the biggest new acts there(and when Hylands was also creeping around playing accompaniments). So when he heard cylinders, he was hearing Hylands and Banta, and from the sound of his own accompaniments on Zon-O-Phone later, he certainly did hear them both around the same time.  Now how can I begin to prove this? A good example has been in my thought process for awhile now, and it was right under my ears and I didn't know it. 

That piece actually has become more interesting as I've studied this pianist crossover. This rather eccentric piece of studio insiders was performed often at those Columbia exhibitions by the composer, at a prime time for Hager to be wandering around New York in search of musical inspiration. I can easily see Hager(as well as Banta) going to one of those bright spectacles Columbia held at one point six nights a week. 
I have come to know this Hylands piece very well, spending a long frustrating time learning it, re-learning it, and arranging it in the various keys that I have heard it in. 
Here's the 1898 Columbia orchestra recording to refresh the memory:
https://archive.org/details/DarkeyVolunteerColumbiaorchFredHylands1898
So what has this piece to do with Hager?
Actually, Hylands' queen like nature must have rubbed off on the young impressionable Hager. Hager's 1904 piece "Handsome Harry"(Or Hager if you want to get right to the obvious pun) sounds somewhat similar to Hylands' 1898 piece "The Darkey Volunteer". 
Here's Hager's own orchestra playing his "Handsome Harry":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkKOHd0P6vM

That first section is taken almost directly from Hylands' piece. Some of the orchestration throughout is also rather similar to the 1898 Columbia orchestra recording(which I am almost 100% sure Hylands himself orchestrated). I always like to talk about this piece of Hager's, mostly because I am convinced that the silhouette on the cover is of Hager:

I know, I know, wasn't Hager slimmer? 
Right, that's what I was wondering, but I forget that the piece was published in 1904, and that pretty picture of Hager that was in The Phonoscope was taken in at least 1896-1897. That's almost a decade difference. 

So with that, it's pretty interesting to see all the crossover that these studio pianists had with each other. This group that Hager was involved in at Zon-O-Phone however is another story, quite different from the traditional crowd of Edison-Columbia. Hager was close friends with Banta, Arthur Pryor, and Victor Herbert, which created more diversity, and better connections for Hager in the recording community overall. This crossover creates an interesting story, and a better sense of closeness within these competing record companies. I'm going to have to end it here, as it's late when I'm writing this, and I have exhausted this topic as far as I'll go for now. 

Hope your holidays have been pretty good so far! I hope you enjoyed this! 

Regarding Mr. Banta and slow speeds

Frank P. Banta's death date is approaching, which is always a depressing time for me. I can barely express the words for how wonderful Banta was as a pianist, and how innocent and introverted the recording stars described him to be. The amount of praise Banta received from his studio fellows is quite outstanding. There are so few of those studio pianists mentioned in any context, but the only one that seemed immortal through recollection was Banta. 

That sweet smile is always heartwarming. 

Recently while digging around in period sources on the recording business, I finally found a better version of that Edison studio picture that was used in Edison catalogs years after Banta died:

Where do I begin with him? 

The praises that Dan W. Quinn spoke of Banta are quite an interesting read. Quinn praised Banta so highly for his unequalled ability to play anything by ear, and that Quinn would rather have Banta play at all his gigs and recording sessions. Quinn enjoyed Mr. Banta's company so much in fact, that he named his youngest child after Banta. According to the Quinn family, Dan passed down many stories that included Banta's presence and name. Clearly Quinn had quite a high respect for his pianist Mr. Banta. Compare that to the non-existent accounts of his time working with Fred Hylands at Columbia. Despite those not being written down, we know they happened. 

With Banta, it wasn't just Quinn who sung out his praises, it was also all the others at Edison, in more subtle ways however. Frank Stanley took the "Frank" in his studio name from that Mr. Banta. From written ledgers that survive from Edison, we know that Stanley worked very often with Banta. In fact, some of the most beautiful records Banta was on were recorded with Stanley, at least as far as I've heard. It's hard to beat these two gems:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder13658

https://archive.org/details/edgm-8310

That second one is particularly gorgeous, for a different reason then the first one.

 One thing that's very curious about Banta, in considering the other studio pianists, is the amount of his music that was recorded over time. It can be argued that he in fact wrote the most popular song of the brown wax era, and that's "the Laughing song". Of course he was not the origin of the song, that was George W. Johnson, but Banta deserves the credit for writing the song down on paper, and helping promote it to phonographers all over. Of course Banta remained modest about the overwhelming success with "the Laughing Song", as he remained respectful to Johnson's ownership of the tune. His name may have been on it, but he kept all the success in the studios solely, with the satisfaction of making Fred Hylands read his arrangement, and eventually butcher it for an old Cincinnati jig. Hylands may have had the publishing firm with Len Spencer, but Banta had the keys to the most popular and profitable song of the brown wax era. Other than "the laughing song", Banta's other pieces remained in the standard studio repertoire until as late as 1906. His earliest songs in the mid-1890's(after "the laughing song"), were likely recorded by Quinn and other popular singers of the mid-90's. His 1897 piece "The Chaser" was taken and kept for almost a decade by Fred Hager, as he recorded it with his orchestra in 1905. 

I have that very record to share here:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qQ8w12axwFMOo2_9wWiYvFwtg6QgvaPv/view

Even with all the very typical aspects to this march, I can still hear the characteristics that make it a Banta piece. Over the years I've studied his playing, it seems to have been more eccentric and self-taught than someone even as folksy as Hylands. Hylands had a distinct regional style, but Banta had his own mix of everything to create his style. Oddly enough, I would say that Banta's style was more closely related to Arthur Pryor's style than to Hylands'. There are a few reasons that I say that, the first being that the two were obviously close friends, recording two famous(or infamous rather) piano solos on the same day at Victor in 1900. 

You can view the ledgers here:

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/date/browse/1900-09-27

There they are, the pair of pianists at Victor in 1900. 

That's quite a pair! Not often would we associate a prominent figure as Arthur Pryor with such lost figures as the earliest studio pianists. I would guess that the reason the two were so well acquainted would stem back to their days at Berliner. Banta was working for Berliner as early as 1897, as was Pryor, and the few solos that Pryor made for them in that year almost certainly have Banta's accompaniment. Such as this one here: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HmdepXpz00

It seems perfectly in line to see those two rag-timers enjoying each other's company. 

Of course now that I have become well founded in the idea that all these band men knew each other, it seems almost certain they were constantly sharing each other's arrangements. Imagine it, Arthur Pryor, Hager, and Banta going out for a drink after the studio day, going to gossip about all the recording banter from the day.

So...another piece of Banta's that was recorded many years after it was written was his "Ragged William". As late as 1905 that piece was recorded by studio orchestras, in that year, the Regimental Band of the Republic revived the old Banta piece on the American label. 

Of course, this piece was recorded many times in 1899-1901 by Banta's own orchestra, the Metropolitan and Peerless orchestras. This oddity of a rag was rather popular with the studio groups, as I'm sure one of Hager's Zon-O-Phone ensembles recorded the piece in 1900 or 1901. I searched around for other versions of the piece and it seems that the tune was listed in the Leeds catalog around 1900. But of course it doesn't really come as a surprise that studio pianists' piece were recorded, as they had the best chances of getting anything they wrote recorded than anyone else. Banta's were just a bit more interesting and attractive to more than his own orchestra, compare that to Hylands' "The Darkey Volunteer".

 Banta's 1901 piece "Halimar" was also recorded. This particular piece had been a source of great interest for me, since I had wondered about it for so many years, with that oriental rondo subtitle to tantalize me, until I finally got a curious recording of it. 

By Hager's orchestra. 

The moment I saw that on Ebay I knew I had to snag it. Turns out this piece did not disappoint, it was definitely worth all the anticipation. Anyhow, you can hear my mediocre transfer here:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Wck5Wis5RK43-63FnqTCiNxXOsSw2-Ct/view?usp=sharing

It's quite an interesting piece. So far, this piece presents all of Banta's self-taught eccentricities in composing and piano style. But of course the added bonus with this record is that it's my very favorite group playing it! To add some humor in this, I drew a cartoon with Pryor making a kind comment to Banta regarding this very record, with Hager himself well involved in dancing to the tune:

It's fun to imagine those three having so much fun together. 

It's clear that all those studio boys respected Banta to highly, and for good reason. He naturally had abilities that surpassed that of such musicians as Pryor and Hager. He must have also had a very rousing sense of humor, as well as an attractive demeanor, as he was quoted in 1892 saying thus:

"Oh that doesn't matter...just hum it over once and I'll catch it."

The only other early recording star who was documented of having that freakish ability was Silas Leachman. That must be why Leachman and Banta's records sounded so damn good. Also, i have come to believe that Banta was on some of the best of Leachman's Victors, such as these two:

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000000582/Pre-matrix_B-1129-Quit_that_tickling_me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7--truVAzLw

I firmly believe that Leachman's hottest Victors are so hot because of Banta's accompaniment.  A long while ago I did a post regarding the frustration of Leachman's Victors in terms of piano accompaniment, but now I can pretty surely say that Hylands never accompanied Leachman on Victor, and with those records it's either Banta or Chris Booth. The more wild and ragged of Leachman's Victors likely have the Banta accompaniment. Now that I have become very used to hearing Banta's style on records, I have a very solid sense of what he tended to play overall, little eccentricities and characteristics. The most curious aspects to his playing that really don't make the most sense to me, in thinking of his musical region of origin, are the drone note and the rollicking/walking bass(you can hear a great example on this Leachman Victor here). Banta basically had all the aspects to his style of a rural pianist from way out west in Kansas, extra beats and measures included, but he was from New York. 

Where did he pick these up?

I have wondered that often when I hear records like this with Banta's accompaniment:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17123

Clearly Banta had heard some things that he wasn't supposed to(as a respectable pianist). Isn't that how all these rough pianists got better? Indeed so. He had an ear that could pick up anything, so who knows where he would have gotten the ideas going through his mind at that moment on that record above. A similar record you can hear below:

https://archive.org/details/WantsmyChickensCollinsBantaHager1898

In case you are wondering why that recording of "The Weddin O'er the Hill" is so significant, listen to this piece of serious folk rag-time, it's quite similar:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngLrZ63ZDfU

Both of these pieces by the famous Missouri wonder Blind Boone sound remarkably similar to some of the things I've heard Banta play on many records. Just one example, that bass note pattern at 1:23-1:24 is actually in his "Halimar". There are plenty more things that you can listen to on your own to pick out. Keep in mind that Boone didn't put together this piece of reminiscence(remembering music of the 1870's or so) until 1912. 

Anyway...

I will wear all black this Friday in honor of the sweet and gentle soul that was Frank P. Banta. His tragic life will remain immortal thanks to those who spoke of him so highly. 
We still hear you Mr. Banta. 

Well then!

In the last two days, I have been playing around with listening to some of my brown waxes, and others that are scattered online. A long while ago I did a post regarding the slow speed effect, of which I am still a very fond supporter. Awhile ago I acquired a very curious 1898 Columbia brown wax cylinder. My first brown wax cylinder was George P. Watson singing "Emmett's Lullaby" from 1898, but it is most certainly the most unusual take I've ever heard of it, but not for reasons these odd takes typically are. This particular take has a playing speed of just under 100 rpm. 

What?

Yes! You hear me right! Under 100 rpm. The oddly slow speed of this record creates some frustrating issues when playing it, of course. The grooves are very shallow, the speed fluctuates quite a lot, and the recording itself is rather quiet. It's worth the frustration because this record is definitely exceptional, the sound quality is very nice and clear, with loud and bass heavy piano accompaniment(by Hylands!). So here's where the slow speed idea comes into play, this record was made at a very slow speed, and I am fairly certain that this odd speed is correct for this particular record. Any slower it sounded unnatural, and any faster it sounded quick and low quality. 

So here's the thing about this...I have come to believe(after many discussions with collectors) that records from this era are supposed to sound slow to our modern ears, but these records can only sound as beautiful and clear as they truly were a bit slower than we'd usually think to play them. I believe in the quality of records from this time being great, I am a firm believer in the superiority of brown wax(as did Russell Hunting), and that acoustic recordings sounded better than most people would expect. An oddly good example of this contrast of too fast can be heard on this 1891 Issler accompaniment record:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-wI7RWfcb8
The speed fluctuates so much on this record that we can actually hear the difference between too fast and just right speed. When the record is slower(at the right speed) in the key of F, it sounds much fuller and well recorded, but when it speeds up, it sounds very low quality and the piano sounds distant. 
It's quite interesting how this turns out. If you listen to the record closely, you can tell that the record itself is already transferred very slow. 
So most scholarly record collectors know that these records are to be played much slower than 78, but often the speed of cylinders are all over the place. Just consider what I said about that Watson brown wax.

So with that in mind, I played my two William Tuson brown waxes slow. How they sounded so much better. The two Tuson clarinet solos I have are "Old Black Joe" and "Southern Plantation Echoes". Tuson's solo of "old Black Joe" sounded beautiful in A flat, it sounded slow and pretty at the straight section, and rather jumpy and folksy at the variations section. The piano accompaniment came through very well when I played it slow, every note came through, and I could even go to the piano and figure out the exact inversions of chords Hylands was playing. 
If you've got some records at home you're curious about, do try playing them a bit slower than you'd think to, it'll create quite a difference in quality!
Anyhow, I don't need to go on about this slow speed matter, it pretty much explains itself. 



Before I close out, I'd like to share one of my favorite Leachman and Banta records, to further honor Mr. Banta for this Friday:
https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002499/Pre-matrix_B-3356-Mr._Johnson_dont_get_gay

Hope you are all having a good holiday season so far! 

A Few Edits and Mr. Michaelis

Okay, to start, scratch all of that I said in the last post regarding the American Record company. Just a few days after I posted that thing, a few friends went on the dig for proving whether this was true or not, and well, as it turns out Hager was nowhere to be found. 

However! 

It is important to note that Hager may have indeed had a hand in it at some point. Though he may not have had his entire orchestra there at American, it's likely that he handed their bandleader some of his own arrangements, and likely a few musicians of his own in the process. The director of the regimental band of the republic was said to be a guy named Fred Wood. I know nothing of this Mr. Wood, and haven't done any digging just yet. It almost seems like Mr. Wood just popped up out of nowhere, as usually with these house orchestras we would usually see someone we know as the leader, a familiar face from a previous orchestra. It's a lot like how toward the very end of Zon-O-Phone's days(1909-1912) it has been said that Arthur Pryor led the orchestra. 

Since we know now that Hager wasn't responsible for the American record company's orchestra, what was he doing instead? Well, when I spoke with one of my friends about the matter, I felt terribly absent-minded when the reason was brought up. In mid-1906, Hager left Zon-O-Phone to go and work with J. Fred Helf in publishing. 

Durr...Of course, I have so many Helf and Hager sheets, I should have known! I am not entirely sure when Hager returned to recording, but it's likely that before the Rex endeavor he was associated with the other earliest American vertical cut labels. He and Justin Ring were likely introduced to the Vertical recording method very early on, possibly as early as 1910. 

So anyway, do excuse much of what I said in the last post about those blue American records. That orchestra was still outstanding, whoever they were. 

Well then!

It's been quite a month for my sheet music collection. In the last month I have sifted through two sheet music collections, both of which were fantastic, full of great valuable stuff. The first collection I went through got me copies of many Coon songs we know and love, including my very favorite of them: 

Yes indeed! It's also in really good shape too, which is nice. 
I also got these from this collection:

So here's something trippy about that Roger Harding piece. I have no idea who that is on the cover, and it's certainly not Harding. So some of you may have seen a different cover of that Harding piece, and about that you'd be right. 

Okay, so what the hell happened here?
Well, I guess that in 1896, Harding got the piece published as he did, and it was a hit with the recording community he'd just integrated into, but something went a little whacked when Fred Hylands scooped up the Columbia staff with the publishing firm. I would guess that the reason it was re-published was because Hylands wanted so desperately to grab the rights to Harding's work. I have no idea why it was published by different people two different times, but there is something whacked about Hylands putting his name on it in 1899. On the original edition, it even says "words and music by Roger Harding", which I would firmly believe. The 1899 edition is really strange, now that I can compare it with the original 1896 edition. 
Also, I finally got a sheet with a picture of Dan W. Quinn on the cover. I had seen so many of them in the decade or so I've been doing this and have always wanted to have one of them. The piece I got is titled "The musket and the sword", which is a tune Quinn did not record, but there was a very fine portrait of him on the cover:

All-right, that's officially the clearest portrait of Quinn I've ever seen. 
It's even better that the other versions I've seen online of this same picture. It's unbelievably crisp. What's curious about this particular sheet is that the very same cover was featured in the CD Archeophone put out on Quinn's records. I wonder if it's the exact same sheet? 

So, almost a month later, I was offered to sift through another collection of sheet music. Last week I went to a friend's house and sifted through around 500 pieces of sheet music, only about a quarter of them were the older large format sheets, or the good stuff. There were plenty of rare San Francisco and Los Angeles published pieces in this pile. I was able to grab a large pile of SF published music that I had never seen nor heard of, but other than the California rarities, there was one particular sheet that has caused a bit of buzz amongst the Rag-Time community. 
As I kept picking out all the good coon songs from this pile, there were lots of generic looking sheets from the early 1910's, some I took, some I put back, but there was this one that caught my eye.

Wait a second, is that who I think it is? Let me zoom in a bit...

There he is! Ben M. Jerome. Jerome wrote some hot rag medleys in the late-1890's, and continued to write better than average coon songs after 1900, such as "Melancholy Mose". In case you aren't aware of his rag medleys, here they are:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G4RoWQJrTE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_BE-UOe0Zk
So after the word got around that I have this sheet, I decided to try a little bit of digging on this mysterious early rag pianist. Since the beginning of my time studying rag-time, I have always wondered about Jerome, since his "A Bunch of Rags" medley is definitely one of the best of those early rag medleys. Clearly Jerome had something right in his style for it to sound so accurate. In fact, many of us Rag-Timers thought that Jerome was a black man, as his rags were so accurate to the black pianists of the era. But all of that was debunked when I saw that picture. 
So with all of that in mind, i attempted to do some digging on Jerome. When I looked him up on the NYPL, looking for some of his pieces, I saw that his profile stated that he lived from 1881 to 1938. Well that's nice and all, but if he were truly one of those early rag pianists, as he was, he would have to have been born at least as late as 1875. I just cannot fully believe that he would have been 17 writing his slamming medley "A Bunch of Rags". Only someone with quite a few years of experience and study in the rag-time community would have written out the longest rag medley of the era. So as it turns out, as I did some digging, some of these things became a bit clearer. 
First of all, it was unreliable to search Ben M. Jerome on Ancestry. So the initial start of the dig was no help. It took a few more days until one of my friends sent me a newspaper clipping containing some curious information. This clipping stated that he was divorcing his wife Florence and having issues with the custody of their two children, Jesse and Sanford. Not only was this there, but it also stated that his name was Bernhardt Michaelis. 
Heh?
What a name! So of course when I looked up that name on Ancestry it became very clear which one was him. I found him in the 1900 and 1910 census, which was exactly what I was hoping for. In 1900 he was working as a musician, but in 1910 he's listed as a composer, which entirely makes sense. Also, the most itching thing I wanted to know about Mr. Michaelis came to the light, the fact that he was born most likely in 1876. Okay, that's a much more reasonable date for one of these hot early rag pianists; being 20 at the beginning of the rag fad must have been quite the time! Considering Jerome's lady issues, I am getting some Mike Bernard vibes from him, if you know what I mean...

So on my newspaper dig for Jerome, I found some curious stuff. As I kept digging, I found lots of sections that mention him in Variety, usually related to songs and musicals he was writing and directing. So basically he was a less aggressively weird version of Hylands, and was certainly more popular. His name is on a lot of musical folios, similarly to Max Hoffmann who hung around  Broadway doing the same thing. 

Damn, he was a good looking guy, even in this crappy newspaper clipping...
I found a little clipping that confirms the 1938 death date, which is great! In that clipping, it becomes clear that he was known mostly as a composer, not as a pianist necessarily. Despite that, he must have been a hell of a pianist, as he's got those extremely detailed rag medleys to prove that. Surely he was an outstanding pianist, aside from all the popular musicals he wrote for. 
So now that I have a basic outline for Ben Jerome, I can now use his style for comparison between all these early rag pianists. That was ultimately the goal of all this digging on him, because his medleys sound so much like Fred Hylands' playing and Max Hoffmann's as well. 


I hope all's well with you folks! It's been a hard few weeks for me emotionally, despite all the goodies I've been snagging from old clothing to Spencer and Ossman brown waxes. I really wanted to do this post editing the things I said about those blue American records days after I learned all that new stuff, but couldn't get myself up to it. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

The Mystery Box and Blue American records

Well, what a week it's been! 

Hot damn this has been quite a week for records on my end. Whew!

This last Thursday, I took a trip over to my favorite antique store, thinking there may be something there, as I hadn't gone in about a month. I usually like to go to this place once a month or more if there are interesting lots of things to pick through. Never could I have anticipated the sort of things I'd be picking up that day...

This place I go to is one that I have frequented rather often for the last 6 months or so, grabbing piles of records and other old things of interest. I have gotten a ridiculously good stash of records overall from this place, but of course the only records I was getting, or ever saw from this place were disc records. I was just grabbing all the records, asking no questions and remaining modest and quiet when digging and later buying them. Since I've been going so often to this place, the proprietors have become familiar with the the sort of old things I'm looking for. 

After 6 months of stacking up the disc records from this place, with all colors and rarities of the phonographic rainbow, I finally asked the owner if there were any cylindrical records. The moment he told me there were some stashed up in the house(away from the customers poking around), he made me wait a little while. He had to go drop something off for one of the local customers, but with the promise he made, I was so anxious it was hard to maintain my antique store poker face. I waited about 20 minutes poking around mindlessly, as this was after I combed through all the usual spots here. When he came back, he went upstairs to grab a box of cylinders. 

I still was able to keep my cool as I opened the box and saw a few curious French brown waxes that weren't Pathé's. I inspected those thoroughly, and was interested, but of course I had no idea of their value, but I planned to buy them anyway. 

As I kept digging in this box, there were layers of records stacked on one another. There was a curious old looking case right under these French rarities, it looked to be from the 1890's. I was still keeping my poker face pretty constantly at this point, but it broke in a snap when I opened that old box. 

When I saw what was inside I just about screamed, I threw my hands up and nearly tore the 110 year old sleeves on my coat. 

That's what was inside. 

All brown wax, and only one of them was so moldy it can barely be saved. Unfortunately, as I started digging through all the slips and inspecting each record, a percentage of them were broken. But! despite that, I became passionately determined to take them all. That includes every last shard and piece of brown wax I could find. All the old slips were scattered around in the box and I kept looking over those to get some sort of idea of what was in this box. There were some interesting titles there. All the titles were handwritten in pen, in an almost familiar Spencerian script. The most tantalizing slip I saw in the batch was this one here: 

Yep, that's definitely a good sign. 

A brown wax with that title could either have been and original Hunting or a later Jim White take. That writing looks familiar doesn't it?

When I finally got through the box, I took 7 of them home with me after paying the owner. I was too afraid to grab them all at once, as I had a long and somewhat bumpy ride back home. 

I wasn't originally going to do anything the following day, but I became so bubbly over what sort of titles were in the first batch of 7. So the next day I got up early and got over to the place earlier than usual, to grab the rest of the old box of records and go. I spent no extra time this go around, the records needed to get home to be played and correctly identified. Don't get too worried, I only played the announcements and maybe a little more to get what they were and stored them back in their cozy 1890's box. Every one of these beauties was covered in dust, but under the dust, there's no mold or anything, just flawless recordings all from a very specific period of time. 

So after I finally spent several hours trying to get all of these correctly paired with the matching old slips, I got more into the strange circumstances of this almost flawless box of brown wax. 

So here are a few interesting things about this box:

-They are all Columbia's

-All from 1895-1899

-All the slips are written in pen

-there are two of each artist(almost)

-there's a lot of Len Spencer related selections

-no mold anywhere

-all the same shade of brown wax

-there's quite a variety of selections, from sacred to hot rag-time

-all the titles on the slips are abbreviated like Columbia studio slips I've seen

This box was carefully put together. Someone had quite varied tastes in records. These records were originally sold by Allen Koenigsberg, probably over a decade ago to this collector in Berkeley. The collector's name was on lots items I had previously picked up from this place, so without a doubt these brown wax beauties belonged to him at some point. 

Funny accompanying story, when I bought that batch of Berliners and Zon-O-Phone's from this place, I noticed that most of them were kept in distinct yellow sleeves from Kurt Nauck. With that, I contacted Mr. Nauck about these records, and he promptly told me to whom he sold the records. This collector in Berkeley died a few years ago, so it seems that all of these extremely valuable records were dropped off at this antique store I frequent. 

So the fact that these brown waxes came from Koenigsberg would make sense, since they are so outstanding and prime examples of mid-1890's recordings. 

So all of this is great without a doubt, but what was in the mystery box? I spent hours attempting to grab all the titles on these records, and match the slips with the proper record, as they seemed to have been scattered when I found them. At the current time I still have not gotten all the slips to match every single record, as I do not have a very good phonograph to present them in a decent fashion. I have only an 1898 Columbia Q that is definitely not a high quality machine, but I can play brown wax on it safely. So do not expect any transfers from me soon...
The first one I was anxious to play when I got home was of course the "Casey" sketch. That record was far more intriguing and valuable than I could have ever expected. Hunting's records alone are very rare, especially the brown waxes he made. But one thing is for sure, his pre-1897 cylinders are the most desirable of them. Well it turns out that this one in the mystery box was one of them. This cylinder was recorded probably in late-1895 or early 1896, before he got arrested with Charlie Carson for the smut cylinder scandal. It's got that same pristine sound quality as the few Original Hunting's that are online, such as this one:
https://ia802308.us.archive.org/4/items/RussellHunting/RussellHunting-CaseyattheTelephone.mp3
Now think about this, the record I got was recorded right there with Hunting. It was made under his own supervision, it was in the recording room with him, and he recorded directly onto that surface that I can now hold and handle. 

This is exactly why brown wax is so intriguing in a way that no other recordings are. If the record is old enough, it was likely recorded directly on by the recording star who's on it. The record witnessed the musicians and performers in person, and depending on the performer may have been handled by that very performer. This adds a level of personal touch that later records from this time just don't have. This is exactly why this Hunting record in the mystery box is so valuable to me in particular. 

There were several records by Len Spencer in this box. There were as follows:
"What Shall the Harvest Be" from 1896-97
"My Gal is a High Born Lady" with Ossman, 1897
"Crappy Dan" with Ossman, 1897
"-----Honey Boy" with Hylands 1898(I couldn't get the title of this one very well but it's likely something called "Lucinda Does you Love yer Honey Boy?")
Of course since these records are all Columbia's from around the same time, as to be expected, there are quite a few of them with Len Spencer announcements, which is perfectly fine for me!

There were two standout Edward M. Favor records in this box. Usually the Edward Favor records that collectors have are his Zon-O-Phone's from 1900-1903, and his Edison records from the late-1900's. But I assure you these two Favor's were the rarest and most desirable of all the kinds he made. Both of these Favor records are from 1896. They both had that distinct "...of New York City" announcement(as 80 per cent or so of these records have) and that beautiful clear piano accompaniment that was on those Columbia's he made in 1896. The two records sound exactly like this record here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11859
Same pianist, same recording room, and overall beautiful quality. 
The titles unfortunately I could not make out just yet, and they are hard to match with the remaining slips. 
There was a Gaskin, Steve Porter, and a surprisingly clear Will F. Denny record. 
The Gaskin is a really pretty love song titled "Answer", with that pristine mid-1890's Columbia recording quality. The Steve Porter is an unusual one titled "She Lives on the Same Street with Me". The Denny is a very distinctly early 1897 Columbia titled "Then and Now". 
There were two Clarinet solos by William Tuson which really got me excited! I have a lot of love for those Issler soloists, as they were fantastic musicians that really stood out from the rest of the musicians in the orchestras. 
The two Tuson's were "Southern Plantation Echoes" from 1897 and "Old Black Joe" from 1897-98. Both of these records are online, but the ones I got in the mystery box are definitely different takes. There are some distinct differences between my takes and the ones I've heard online, which is great! To give you an idea, here are the two Columbia takes of these online:
"Old Black Joe"
"Southern Plantation Echoes"
My take of "Southern plantation echoes" is the longest one of the takes I've heard. It hovers right around the three minute mark and there's another chorus of the Tapioca played at the end. The clarinet and piano also alternate playing the Tapioca toward the end which is a really nice added touch. This take also sounds really nice, even on my crappy cheap old Columbia. 
There were a few Columbia orchestra records in the box too, such as an 1897 take of "Ecstasy Waltz"(with a cornet solo by Tom Clark!), and a curious recording of an unnamed "lanciers". 
There was also a super nice early 1897 take of "Stars and Stripes forever" by Sousa's Band, which added a nice touch to all the obscurities in the box. 
I know I'm missing a few to describe here, but I really want to get to the next part of this post. I will do another post once I know what everything is and when I know I can get decent electric transfers of them. I have already been given and offer to get them transferred!





All-right then!

Yesterday I had a serious aha! moment. Amid a moment of thoughtless listening(this is usually how is goes...), I realized something big. 
Many collectors try to grab those Blue American records when they can, as they're very attractive records that stand out from all others in pre-1910 recordings. I have quite a stack of them myself, this hot one included:

I am always amazed at their beauty. 
(in case you're wondering, this curious record is basically like one of Spencer's brown waxes with Hylands but half a decade later!)
Last night I went back and listened to the handful of American records that are online, and was reminded of how hot and tight their house orchestra was. Their orchestra was called the regimental band of the republic, which is quite a generic name for a studio ensemble. No one really knows who they were, as this company was shrouded in secrecy, but for good reason. They were started by a few sketchy Edison employees in 1904, but somehow these sketchy Edison workers managed to create the best sounding records of the era. Their records boom in ways that others just didn't! And how their orchestra did just that, and more!
so as many have been long wondering, who was the regimental band of the republic? Well, you know what, I may have come to a possible answer. 
That orchestra was just absolutely outstanding to all the other studio groups, with familiar sounding musicians. Who do they sound like the most?

Hager. 

Of course! It made so much sense once I started thinking through ways that could prove this idea. Before I go forth with the explanation, here are a few of their records:
Perhaps the hottest ever, "a Southern Belle(Cake-walk)"

"Cocoanut Dance"(written 1891)

"Princess Pocahontas"(buck dance)

Hager's own "Handsome Harry"

"1863 medley"

So why would it make sense that Hager could have led this this orchestra? They recorded "Handsome Harry" to start, which is Hager's piece from 1904. Of all the record insiders Hager would make the most sense in terms of having his hand in this mysterious and dreaded record company. Hager was part of the Climax scramble in 1901-1902, as he was working for Columbia-Climax-Zonophone when the tensions were boiling hot, but he was taking his orchestra to the more reliable and better quality Climax and Zon-O-Phone instead of Columbia. He managed to escape the battles over patents and record talent unscathed, but he gained ever more knowledge of the recording ropes and where the best fortune would be. With this heightened knowledge, Hager would have seen the great opportunities that American possessed. 
The sound of the orchestra on American nearly mirrors Hager's Zon-O-Phone orchestra from the same time period. This frame of 1904-1907 is also when Hager was working the most overall, so maybe this American notion went into his crowded work schedule. 
Also, I may add that the "1863 Medley" listed above sounds like many of hager's arrangements that were written down and the ones that were played at Zon-O-Phone around the same time. By this I'm meaning a tune of his like this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrdarM0xKgs
Indeed so. 

Now all of this is very tantalizing indeed, but it's just a possibility. No one really knows what was the deal with those American records, and another thing that particularly intrigues collectors of them is that orchestra announcer. That announcer was always so unenthusiastic and not theatrical about the announcements. It's a very familiar voice though, very recognizable to those who own some of these American records. That announcer very well could be someone in the band. But think about who would be right there with no instrument to keep his mouth shut...



Anyway, I think I'll end it here. I really want to do another blog post this week but I'll be traveling for a week, back this following Tuesday. When I return however, I will be giving a lecture on Hager! Let's hope that turns out all-right, there's quite a lot to cover with his long story...

Hope you enjoyed this!