Showing posts with label "Side Show Shouter". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "Side Show Shouter". Show all posts

Thursday, April 7, 2016

A Small observation

Before I get into the recording of "Peaceful Henry" by Ossman tomorrow, I just noticed something strange this evening. I was digging through some images of my computer and found something odd about that picture of Hylands that I have from 1898 in the exhibition picture. 
Yes, that one. Here's the specific picture I was looking at:
Yep. 
Now the strange thing that I caught about this picture is that strange-looking chin of his, that I never really noticed before for some reason. I have noticed that his mouth looked a little cockide, slanted downward a little. That strange little thing makes me believe even more that his teeth were a terrible mess, and why on all the times that we can hear him talk, why he's harder to understand. Yes indeed, I am listening to Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" as I am writing this, and have just begun to notice that truly from Hylands' speaking at the beginning, in the middle, and at the very end. Hm. It's something that's very bizarre, but does make some sense, as other than Hylands drinking in the studio, his speech was already slightly slurred. In some ways, he had the same kind of speech that Byron Harlan had, and if you know anything about Harlan, you'd know that his weird dialect was slightly broken from a crooked mouth. If you don't really know what I'm referring to, here's a picture of Harlan from about 1917 where this mutation is evident:
Yep, think I can really see it now. 
It's very strange isn't it? Another reason why Hylands probably liked Harlan so much back in 1899 and 1900 must have been because of their very similar features all around, though Hylands was at least four or five inches taller. Fro what I can see, I can identify the same strange mouth on Hylands in this picture here:
Yes indeed, that terrible picture in The Phonoscope of the Columbia orchestra from 1898. That is Hylands, no arguments. I am certain that that is Hylands, as no other studio pianist in the 1890's had that strange figure, and had eyes that were that bright and expressive. 
To prove this sort of odd lisp kind of thing Hylands had, here are three records where you can hear him speak clearly: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder9828

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11735

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder4935

It's very bizarre. I just thought before I go off to bed that I ought to share this queer little thing, that can be noticed on many records I hear with Hylands now that I caught it. 


I hope you enjoyed this! 


Friday, March 4, 2016

The Edison Orchestra and Columbia Orchestra

Sorry it's been so many days, it's been a little hard to stay on a single subject for a  post, and it's been busy around here. I have been listening to many of the "descriptive selections" that were recorded by the Columbia, Peerless, and Metropolitan orchestras, and just regular selections by these groups. The differences between these three studio ensembles are much more so than many would think, as of course, they did indeed have different people in the groups, and they were under different management by the record companies, and as I have explained before, makes a big difference. The Peerless orchestra was the Edison studio group, regardless or their Edison Concert band, which essentially served exactly the same purpose. The one who led this orchestra was:
Yes indeed, that chap. 
Banta led this group by writing out most of the arrangements, and counting them off, and all else he had to do while leading this group. He must have been aware of the fact that the Columbia orchestra was doing all of the same material at the same time, but with a much looser bound string of rules surrounding their sessions. According to capitalist logic, Banta had to try to compete with those fellows at Columbia for better arrangements and better balancing techniques. Banta encouraged all of the Rag-Time we hear and see listed in the Edison catalog from that time, and that's why there was so much of it. Banta is where we get some of those great Rag-Time arrangements like these: 


These are all great examples of Banta's leadership, and even the selections that aren't Rag-Time are just as great, such as the descriptive selections and other popular songs. Two descriptive selections are here:

Now as you might expect, these "descriptive selections" were very popular among the record buyers. Edison orchestra also recorded the extremely popular one called "The Night Alarm", which you can find countless versions of all over the place on records from the late-1890's. I don't exactly know why it was so popular in its day, but it was certainly a fun one regardless, you can hear the earliest example of it I know of here(from 1892!):
It is unknown how it began to circulate among the record companies, but there are at least 12 different recordings of it I know of. That's really saying something! 
The Peerless orchestra was never known to go out and do any performances, unlike the Columbia orchestra, who was all over the place at exhibitions and performances of Spencer's minstrels, or at lavish affairs at the Waldorf-Astoria. Since Edison didn't really have those fun sort of exhibitions that Columbia had, they didn't invite a handful of artists to come and demonstrate. Though, since Arthur Collins can be heard at the beginning of all but one of the Peerless Orchestra cylinder listed above, he probably had some sort of role in these Edison exhibitions. Collins was essentially at Edison just like how Len Spencer was at Columbia, and later what Ed Meeker became after 1902 at Edison. 

While Banta was getting sick and running the Edison orchestra with all he could to make them better, in a sort of serious way, minus Collins' comical introductions, the Columbia orchestra was wailing away at their antics they were known for. Many of the "descriptive selections" that the Columbia orchestra did in 1898-1900 were actually specific just to them. Such as their rowdy mess called "Charge of the Rough Riders". Now that one is a real kick! This is because of how wild and rowdy it seems, but yet how organised it is. It's one of the most symbolic of all the Columbia orchestra's selections, as it represents everything they were, all they did, and their attitude toward making records and music. You can hear a take here:
"Forward March!"
Yes indeed Mr. Clark. 
It's just such a contrast to the selections by the Peerless orchestra from the same year. They also had some weirder ones, like "Children's Games Lanciers", as you can hear that here:
Ha! they're all cheering like little kids! Hilarious. 
They also had one called "The Capture of Santiago", which is again referring to Roosevelt and the Rough Riders charging into Cuba. I haven't heard this one yet, but I have seen it listed in several places around the same time as their "Charge of the Rough Riders". The one in the link above is certainly a strange one in the mix, but then again I am not surprised about that, as Columbia's people certainly had some more odd ones in their files. They were hard to compete with, so at this, it left Banta a little at a disadvantage when trying to make his orchestra at Edison better. In reality, the Columbia orchestra had better musicians in its personnel, but the Edison studio orchestra had a mix of just as talented musicians. The thing about Columbia's orchestra is that their musicians had been in the business of recording for at least 7 or 8 years by 1898. They had status. By this I mean that with musicians like David Dana, George Schweinfest, and William Tuson, they were already known as soloists on records by the time the Columbia orchestra was formed in 1897. In fact, you can see all three of these musicians here:
I was studying this picture a few days ago and noticed that Dana is there! The only reason I know this is because of that wonderful picture that was put up on Tinfoil.com recently, this one to be more specific:
Yep, see it now? 
Taking a good look at Dana here was how I figured that he was in that Columbia orchestra picture. It makes sense really, since was was one of those members of Issler's orchestra who dropped out in 1897. As all three of the musicians picture just above were the main three who did this. So in that picture of the Columbia orchestra(actually, that is not everyone in the group! There would be at least four more people if they had the usual amount of instruments that would be on their records) We know that Hylands is there at the piano, looking out to everyone else with those expressive eyes behind those glasses, and with Tom Clark(maybe, I'm not exactly sure, I've never seen a picture of him) holding his right hand up(I don't know why...). Now that is actually why my father and I have come to the conclusion that this was a "staged" picture. What it meant by that? Well, the photographer was getting everything set up in there, and they actually weren't in the middle of making records when it was shot. And actually, much of the setup in realistic with the chairs on tables and such, but not exactly what they would be doing when making records. It's much like many of the studio pictures from that time, in fact I would be confident in saying that all of those studio pictures are "staged". Even the ones from the 1910's and 1920's have a similar story. The only so-called "Studio" picture that isn't really staged is this one here:
They didn't spend fifteen minutes trying to get everyone in the right place for this one. It can be seen clearly. The photographer probably had to yell while he already had his flasher in the air, as the exhibitions were loud and rowdy. He couldn't stand there and fix anything, so at that, what you see here is very candid, no tricks were done like in that other studio picture. Now another thing that's unique about the Columbia orchestra is the fact that they carried much of Issler's arrangements over from the earlier 1890's, such as "On the Midway", which you can hear the 1898 version here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder7941

The Issler's orchestra take from 1894 is here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8101

They are a little bit different, but it's funny to think that most of the same musicians were on both of these takes. I forgot to mention that Len Spencer was another Issler dropout, as he was their announcer and sound effects man(though he's not on the 1894 take just above...).  So as you can hear, Spencer is on the 1898 version of "On the Midway", and also if you listen closely, you can hear Hylands kind of singing along with the "Hoochie Koochie" song at the end. Yep, that's him you can hear.

Now saying that brings me to the next part of this post I wanted to discuss. I have mentioned a few times before that there are times on cylinders where you can pick out the voice of Fred Hylands among the mix of other voices(other than the one above). Now the Spencer brothers, Len and Harry, did a series of three records in the late-1890's advertised as "Scenes from life", all of them you can see listed here;
Nothing is said about "The Dog Fight", but that makes sense, as it pretty much is what is said in the title. Yes! Two dogs fighting to the death. Yep, this is 1898. 
Now to begin in finding Hylands, here is Spencer and Gilbert Girard's "The Dog Fight" recorded in c. 1903. Where's Hylands? Well, that voice that's yelling:


"ALL-RIGHT JIMM'EH!"

Yep, that's him alright. 
Why is that Hylands? Well listen to the slight dialect, and how powerful the voice is. It's also a voice that I have heard before on Columbia records, so that is a great indicator. That raspy voice is one that you can hear on this one as well, Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" from 1898. I have explained before where you can hear Hylands on this one(0ther than him playing the organ), but just to refresh this, you can hear him at the beginning, in the middle saying, "I've seen bigger dwarf's 'en 'im!" (It's hard to write how he actually says that...), and he's also yelling at the end being the cops coming up on them. 

I played this cylinder for my former history teacher Mr. Rotenizer this Thursday, and he actually caught one of the things that Hylands yells at the beginning. He caught that Hylands yells "HOT TAMALES!"(in that slightly Chicago dialect) at a lull in what Spencer's yelling at the beginning after the announcement! THAT is hilarious! Also, I think that part of the reason that no one can understand what Hylands is saying at the beginning is because he's pretty drunk. Yep, that really makes sense now doesn't it. Also by how he does that laugh in the middle, oohh... Yep, he's pretty tipsy. Also by how it is very hard to understand what he says at the end acting as the constable, all I can understand is something like:

"Hey!! Ah'll catch ye-o rollahers(?)!"(while swinging around one of those clicker things)

I can't understand him. Well, he's obviously pretty drunk, so that makes some sense. It's still Fred Hylands' voice! 


I hope you enjoyed this! 




Sunday, October 4, 2015

Connecting Notions and remembering the "'Phone" Boys

The title of this post is something that I have to a whole lot of on this blog. It's just how being a history nerd works. And from this, there are indeed people I come across that don't believe the ideas I throw at them, because the evidence is only something you can hear, and not everyone can hear those little things I point out. 
One thing that I have come to notice on one of the cylinders I shared within the last few days, is that there are only tow voices on it, and one of them has to be Fred Hylands. It is this cylinder here, Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" from 1898. I am pretty sure that voice at beginning, that starts in just after Harry Spencer does his "Ikey! Ikey..." thing just after the announcement, is that of Fred Hylands. It's very odd that Spencer wanted Hylands to do some hard-to-decipher talking at the beginning, of which I cannot understand a word of, but it's interesting nonetheless(if any of you can understand any of the words, if there are any, please leave a comment on this post!). If you think about it, it's not really that odd that Hylands spoke on many records he's on, he wanted to have a place on the records(which he always did anyhow), more than just the background accompaniment. From how the exhibitions of 1898 through 1900 went however, it seemed that the record avid buyers knew that it was Hylands on the piano or organ when they heard a Columbia record. So sometimes I really wonder why Hylands has been so largely forgotten to the record collectors. There's an obvious reason why Rag-Time pianists now don't know of him, and it would be more likely to hear a record collector of this ancient material to say "Hm, I've heard of him." 

I have asked several of the most prestigious Rag-Time sheet music collectors about Hylands before, and all of them had never heard of him. That says quite a lot. He didn't write too much music anyhow, and later he had to use a handful of pseudonyms, so it doesn't make it any easier to identify which pieces are actually his. Only three collector friends of mine had ever heard of him(and probably a fourth if I had met the man, as he is deceased now). 
All I really know is that someone who was one of the pioneers of the recording business said something back in the 1930's or 1940's alluding to Hylands, and I don't know who it was, but there's a handful of names that I would consider when thinking of this notion. I do have the feeling however that it more likely may have been Joe Belmont. But then of course, that leaves open some more names I know of, like the two Spencer daughters, Byron Harlan, Fred Gaisberg, Dan W. Quinn, Russell Hunting, Albert Campbell, and several more. 

I am not entirely sure how much the ladies Spencer remembered of their father, but as I recollect now, I remember that one of them had more memories of him than the other. Their names were Ethel and Clara, Ethel was born in 1898, and Clara in 1902. I'm pretty sure it was Ethel that recalled much more of her father than Clara, and thinking of it logically, since she was the eldest surviving of the Spencer girls. Len did have three daughters before that, but they all died very young, but if any one of those girls lived to adulthood, I would think that our knowledge of Spencer would be much more complete and complicated. There was one born in 1887, 1895, and in c.1896. The girl who was born in 1895 did live until the early 1920's, but that was before any old record geeks or researchers could get to her. 
I have only read snippets of the Spencer girls' accounts of their father(seen above), but I am beyond anxious to read all of them, word by word.  I just went back to my bookshelf a few minutes ago to look something up about Len's daughter Myrtle(who was the girl born in 1895), and didn't realize that she sang with him on a few records, which come to think of it makes sense. It did indeed seem that Ethel was the one who provided most of the information of the two of them, as she was the one to witness his quick and terrifying death in 1914(of which I do not want to get into details of right now). It's odd to think, that Len Spencer, the chap who recorded he most coon songs of any of the early artists, had a love for making records for his daughters. It's very contradicting, he had a great sweet side to him, even if he had a crude sense of humor and loaded every phonograph and graphophone with some of the most cruelly offensive "Coon Songs" of the late-1890's. He had specialties before 1900 with these two songs: 

Yep, that's it. Those are only two of them, he had hundreds more in his repertoire. It must have been very emotional(in many varying ways) for his daughters to once again listen to their father's "Coon Songs" when they were older. 
It's really an interesting thing to think about, the artists that remembered all of these things I speak of on this blog so much. There are always missing pieces to the puzzles of this early business however, as most of the actual artists who were involved in the business in the time period were very old by the 1930's and 1940's. Most of the best possible sources had been dead for at least 20 years in fact, like Fred Hylands and J. W. Myers. If Hylands had lived at least as long as his father did(into his 60's I'm pretty sure), we would have a hell of a lot more information on the early recording business and music publishing business. The house musicians would be better sources for information on this subject than the actual artists, as they endured more, and knew EVERYONE. They even knew the ones that wouldn't be expected. Not too many of these musical saints lived very long though(minus Fred Gaisberg and Edison tuba man Fred Geib). When they got the job at a record company, they were shortening their lives, whether they knew it or not. This is why Frank P. Banta was 33 when he died, and this is also why Hylands was 41 when he croaked suddenly in England. The artists featured didn't have nearly as much to take as the musicians behind them, they gave their lives to the business, this is why most of them are long forgotten. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Organ on cylinders and notions similar

I got a Harmonium this week, and it's the most queer instrument I own currently. It's an amazing portable organ from around 1905, and made by an Indian company, that no longer exists. With this sudden interest in organs, I got into the few cylinders I know of with organ accompaniment behind a singer. These organ accompanied cylinders are always interesting, even if they are usually just sacred songs by Steve Porter.

That's Porter, in c.1897 

Porter had a fondness for recording sacred songs from 1897 to about 1901. This fact is slightly odd, because he did quite a lot of comic songs and minstrel records with the Spencer's. I haven't the least idea why he felt he needed to load up the phonographs with all the sacred songs(rather than splitting the takes with Len Spencer or something). He did share some of the same cylinder numbers with J. W. Myers, which indicates a little bit of splitting up of work. Other than that fact, Porter was know to many phonograph buyers as a singer of the best sacred songs that were sold, and his were always indicated as the best of their kind. 
To begin with these organ accompanied oddities, here is Porter's rendition of "Abide with Me" from 1898, with organ accompaniment by Fred Hylands:
(sorry, it's played too slow, and could sound better on the transfer...)
Now the first thing about Hylands playing the organ is that he wasn't very skilled on the instrument. Hylands probably hadn't had the best experiences with the organ at Columbia, as it must have been a real project to try to get it balanced correctly on the cylinders. Since this was really the first attempt to record the organ commercially(I have heard of Len Spencer trying to record a church organ around 1891-92), it must have been a time for experimentation at Columbia, both on Hylands' part, and all the staff at their studio. 
I can imagine things like the pedals snapping and squeaking with Hylands getting all flustered by this, when they were experimenting with it in 1898. It must have been really something to see, with all of them trying to figure out the thing, and have their Freddy play it to the best he could. 
Since he was a quick-minded anxious piano man, Hylands could more likely than not have been heard playing things like these two Cakewalks here:
Even if reluctantly, Hylands had to play all the frivolous things that J. W. Myers and Steve Porter demanded.
This next one is a cylinder that I have shared on here before, but it's the best example of Hylands' less-than-great organ skills:
Why didn't Myers say anything? I would have turned around after the take and asked about some of this weird things that he played. It's a fascinating cylinder nonetheless, because you can tell that Hylands tries to play some of the things that he was used to playing on the piano, like the trills in the middle of the melodies. I just cannot get over Hylands playing the organ, it's funny and almost great. 
Now to turn to Banta for a moment. 
There's Banta in c.1902.
Now Banta had a much better skill on the organ, and he must have played the instrument more regularly than Hylands did. Here is another rendition of "Abide With Me", but this time by Frank C. Stanley in early 1903.
That's a damn good sounding organ. Edison's organ sounded much more like a pipe organ than Columbia's, I don't know why, but I would love to. One thing that would be great to know is what instrument these recording studios actually used, because there were several kinds of small organs that could have been used, from a small pipe organ to something small like an American version of a Harmonium(which are very small, with only 38 keys).
Here is another Edison example of organ accompaniment by Frank Banta, here you go from 1902. Now this makes the thing sound very interesting, sounding more like Columbia's organ. Here is another one from 1903, with S. H. Dudley.
I have the brown wax Columbia of the cylinder in the link above, so that would mean that Hylands would have to get all the organ parts set up, which must have been something he always dreaded when he came to the studio. Here is the last example I have of Banta's organ skills, and it's one of the most beautiful records I know of from pre-1910. 
I have few records that would fit in this category, but Frank C. Stanley's "The Bellman" from 1902 is certainly one of them, here is that cylinder.
Every time I hear that cylinder I almost get into tears for some reason. It must be Stanley's perfect tone, the powerful chimes, and Banta's organ mastery. (Also because Banta only lived another 13 months after it was recorded...)

Now back to Hylands. This one I have next I have also shared here before for the same reason as the organ accompaniment. This one feature Len Spencer's brother Harry:

(He's the taller guy)
This one is a funny example of Harry and Len Spencer's abilities to capture real-life scenes of the 1890's. That cylinder is here.
It's an interesting cylinder for a lot of reasons, but really try your hardest to focus on the organ playing under Spencer. There's Rag-Time there! Now that way, it's pretty obvious who the organist is( ehm! Hylands). Another thing I just noticed about this cylinder is that other voice toward the beginning, and at the end.  Hmm... Who is that? I know that Len Spencer is also on this cylinder other than Harry, but could one of the three different voices be that of the organist? Freddy Hylands perhaps? He was pretty close to the recording horns on the organ, more so than usual with the piano as you may be able to hear. Here is the other cylinder I think Hylands can be heard on(from the same year):
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/9000/9828/cusb-cyl9828d.mp3
It's very possibly Hylands' voice you can hear at the singing toward the end. 
Hear any resemblance? I certainly do, after really taking a few close listens to the two brown wax cylinders. That's really fascinating, as most record collectors would think of those house pianists of this time as silent and solemn workers, but as Hylands worked, he had a loud mouth and wanted to be heard in any way that he could be. These two cylinders above really say true for that notion. Especially the one with Harry Spencer, as now I am convinced that that voice yelling at the end(that's supposed to be a policeman) is probably the voice of Fred Hylands in its clearest form, and at the best volume. The voice also sounds very young, has a slight dialect, and is a trifle scratchy. It's also very different-sounding from anyone I know of at Columbia in 1898. If that's Hylands, he had some voice. 



I hope you enjoyed this! 


Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Ragging the Schubert and more

We all know Columbia's pianist Freddy Hylands. 
And we very well know of his "Rag-Time" playing on all of those brown wax cylinders and early disc records. Since he was the main studio pianist over at Columbia, he would have to play literally everything that was recorded there. Everything from the sacred selections of Steve Porter to the raucous coon songs of George W. Johnson. I  was digging through the Santa Barbara cylinder website last evening and found some interesting selections that relate to the title of this post. They do have to do with Fred Hylands. 
Since he was a rugged pianist by heart, he naturally put in all of those weird saloon-like things into the songs he recorded, even if they had nothing at all to do with the Ragged nature of his style. This first record is an absolutely perfect example of this. It's a recording of Thomas Clark playing a popular piece by Franz Schubert in late-1897:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/7000/7959/cusb-cyl7959d.mp3
The cornet playing is great and it is a beautiful piece of music, but the terrible sounding old piano of Columbia makes it a very weird record. Hylands is playing slightly Ragged, which adds to the queer nature of the record. Really take a listen to the piano. It is also a very awkward record in a way. It is only because Hylands and Tom Clark were both in the Columbia orchestra and often fought over who would do the count offs and arrangements(before Fred Hager came along). So Hylands tries to do some of what he did best behind the man at the record company that he didn't particularly favor, which must have been a little odd for Clark. Hylands was probably drunk when this round was done, with the terrible sounding piano not making it any better. Hylands was still rather new there at Columbia when they recorded this though, so he was still trying to figure out how to be heard better behind the blaring artists in Columbia's big recording room(as heard on this very cylinder!). 

Hylands ragging the old favourites and sacred songs must have been only slightly ludicrous to the singers at first, and even must have been so a little while after getting used to him. He was doing this years before is really became a craze(other than Banta's "Ragged William two-step" from 1899). It was still weird all the same. 
This next one I have shared on this blog before, but it's a great example of several factors that went into making records in the 1890's. This next one is an example of Hylands making an old piece unnecessarily Ragged. This time he's playing behind singers that were actually more friends of his than Clark. Here you go from early 1899:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/11000/11858/cusb-cyl11858d.mp3
I have always had a mix of thoughts about this cylinder.I know that Spencer is really drunk,  and I'm sure if Spencer was that Hylands would be. But that solo at the beginning, it's Ragged and very odd in general. They wouldn't mind Hylands doing that with the tune though, because they all sounds like they were absolutely hammered when they did this round. You can really tell sometimes, and on this one, it's particularly clear. Heh, and the engineers said they couldn't tell the difference between drunk and sober, pffft!

This next one is by the duo we all love of Hylands and Spencer.
This one is a funny old song that was recorded a multitude of times between 1898 and 1906, but it's odd to hear Spencer sing in an Irish dialect. Here you go:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/5000/5218/cusb-cyl5218d.mp3
Hylands' Ragged time is very slight on this one, but it's there and he's pretty scattered. Doing things that don't exactly make sense. It's an interesting but quiet cylinder where you can actually hear the deep bass notes on the piano, even if the cylinder is very quiet. Hylands speeds up and slows down throughout the cylinder, which may or not have confused Spencer, though he must have been used to it by the time this was recorded, which was 1898. It's just a good a collaboration as any of the Hylands and Spencer cylinders were. 

This next one is a very odd one by someone who I don't get the chance to speak of too often, 
Edward M. Favor. 
This is one of those popular 1890's "Tearjerkers" that someone like George J. Gaskin or early Byron G. Harlan did as a semi-specialty. Here you go with an unusual Favor record with an unidentified record company(though it might be and early Leeds and Catlin or Consolidated cylinder):
Apparently, Will F. Denny did a version of this on Columbia around the same time, which would man that there is a clear example of Hylands playing this tune, and  bet it would be an interesting comparison. This is a very odd cylinder in the sense that it's one of those very sad 1890's songs, but at some points, Hylands goes off on his Ragged and slightly jarring left hand a few times. It's almost distracting really. But that's what his point was, he wanted to be heard, and by 1899 and early 1900, he had known well how to do that. It's still a very fine cylinder by Edward Favor, changing a bit from his usual comic Irish songs. 

Hylands doesn't really make this next one really ragged, but it's very much so in the feel and great tempo he keeps on it behind George Schweinfest. The date for this one is not given, but by the fact that Joe Belmont is the announcer and the overall sound, it is certainly from 1903. Here it is:
This is a pretty good cylinder, with very good on time collaboration of Schweinfest and Hylands. The rhythm is absolutely pristine. Hylands wasn't drunk and he was feeling slightly Ragged. 
This next one features a rare and great announcement by:
Roger Harding!
This is another one where Hylands didn't need to be the way he was playing when he did this round:
It's played a bit too fast, but at least the piano can still be understood. Not much to say here, the piano is loud and is says all for itself. 
These final two are organ accompanied Columbia's. So Hylands would be on the organ here. Hylands was a pretty lousy organist, probably because he hadn't experience on the instrument. This first one is pretty messy, and it is a tune that us old record collectors have all run across in our collecting travels:
The boys at Columbia couldn't figure out how to balance their burly pianist on the organ, clearly by how loud the instrument was compared to the singers. The funny thing is that I can just hear Hylands playing a sea shanty like "What Shall We Do with a Drunken Sailor" on the organ just for fun between takes and making everyone laugh. This one is one where I can really imagine this happening:
He's still a lousy organist, and you can hear him even more on this one than the last one. 
You can hear faint organ playing by Hylands here on this odd "talking specialty" by Harry Spencer from 1898:
This cylinder is still slightly haunting to me. 

Ha! Two Spencers and one big Hylands playing a little organ...

I hope you enjoyed this!