A History and background of Hylands, Spencer, and Yeager(1899-1900)

"Yours fraternally," indeed, that sums up much of the relationship between all of the members of the above publishing firm. There were many more than three people involved in this firm, in fact, there were more than ten prominent members of the cause. They were all part of the clan that Hylands wanted to begin with this firm, some were recording artists, but others weren't. It was a real mix of people who were in all aspects of the music business. 

This firm's history really stems from the experiences he had while a music director. Hylands saw into the future of the recording business, by finding that recording artists could soon become attached to the publishers by recording songs before they were published for all to have copies. This was something that was very rare in the 1890's, but according to some, it did happen occasionally before the turn of the 20th century. Hylands, being a "hot member"(1890's slang!) of the vaudeville business and Rag-Time community, he must have seen some of these sly deals take place, though he must not have been intended to. Since he was the music director at one of the hottest places for vaudeville and Rag-Time in the 1890's(Pastor's theater), he must have seen all sorts of secret deals made by publishers and performers. Being his observant and brilliant self, seeing all of this happen around him got him ideas. 

Once Columbia took him in, he was no longer a stage director, in fact, he was thrown down quite a few steps from being a music director. Being a studio pianist was almost like being a factory worker(though he got paid far better than a factory worker). What I'm saying really is that he was no longer someone who bossed people around, as a studio pianist, he was the one being kicked around, whether he liked it or not(which he certainly didn't!). His first firm of late-1898 was a "vanity firm"( a sheet music collector slang word meaning a firm that was started up by an obscure composer only for the purpose of publishing their own music). Hylands' first attempt at publishing music is the very epitome of the "Vanity firm" slang term. It's the one that we can see here:

(detail of the bottom of his "Darkey Volunteer")

This firm only lasted until he felt that enough copies of "The Darkey Volunteer" were sold to keep him satisfied. That must not have been very many copies, as it wasn't really that popular. Yes, there were quite a few different recordings of the song, but only because he demanded that it be recorded after he compiled the piece in mid-1898. That firm fell by early 1899, which left him with lots of money to spend. From this contentment, he decided to take everything and move closer to Columbia's headquarters, along with Marie(his wife) and his father Charles. They lived in a very nice flat, that was only a block away from Columbia, perfect for what they all needed. In February of 1899, he began his second attempt at publishing, this time with the aid of Steve Porter:

and Roger Harding:

They were certainly willing to put in their money to help out Hylands, who was constantly gambling(notice the italics...) with their profits, and his. This firm remained successful for only about a month or so, with all of the profits funneling to Hylands, which did include the money of Porter and Harding going to Fred. It failed quick, but they didn't lose their trust in him just yet. 

After the "Knickerbockers" firm failed, Porter was frustrated with Fred, but after seeing this go by him, Len Spencer and his booking agent Harry Yeager took an interest in Fred's endurance and potential. At the beginning of March(1899), Spencer came up to him after a recording day and explained he whole idea and process of wanting to publish with him. Hylands was probably a little foggy with the idea at first, but after thinking about it for a little while(obviously not thinking it entirely through...) he at last shook Spencer's hand the week after the idea was first spoken of. Then Hylands had control of much of what the singers recorded, which must have brought him back to the days of when he was a music director. He at last had some power over the recording artists, which is something he probably always wanted while working under Victor Emerson at Columbia. One of the things that was unique about Hylands' firm with Len Spencer was that he wanted any performers or recording artists to come and stay at his firm(which was his house) for as long as they needed to, in fact, I bet that he took home some of the drunk recording stars after the session days, like Len Spencer, or George Gaskin, or even Burt Green(who wasn't a recording artist obviously, but probably came to Columbia sometimes while working with Fred). As he advertised openly:

"Come to my house! I've got drinks, food, a piano, and plenty of dough! Though the only catch is that you'll only see me later in the evenings! Ah'll be good to ya, Ah promise!"

That's pretty much what he was saying in this advertisement. He said that he'd be there in the day and evenings, but that was very rare for him, as he was working in the studio from 8 in the morning to about 8 at night. And you know that he was the one who wrote out this ad, I can tell. He wanted his house to be a boardinghouse/ social parlor/ publishing office, and he did get all of that while running this firm. He must have run this firm like he was a king, and everyone else were his serfs, becoming the sort of manager that Victor Emerson was to him(hmm...). He was more "fun" than Emerson though, as it's certain that he sometimes would have invited a whole bunch of people over at a time when sales were going good, and have a feast of drinks, and whatever the heck someone like him would have liked. The pieces they published were popular among the exhibitioners and recording stars, and since the songs were being recorded, the record-buyers wanted the sheet music. His biggest success was "You Don't Stop the World from Goin' Round", which was originally written for Len Spencer by Fred Hylands and Will J. Hardman, but it became a much bigger success than he could have thought. Of course, Hylands knew that it was going to be a big hit, not as big as it turned out to be though. According to The Phonoscope, that tune was already in its third edition by April of 1899, which is really surprising by how fast it was spreading. Hm! Hylands must have been really convincing and charming to get something spread that fast! 

Here's Spencer and Hylands' Berliner of it from April of 1899:

https://ia800300.us.archive.org/9/items/LenSpencer/LenSpencer-YouDontStoptheWorldFromGoingRoundCoonSong.mp3

It was a"Famous Negro Success" as according to the announcement, which makes sense, since there was so much high praise for it in The Phonoscope. More than half of the music published by Hylands Spencer and Yeager was music that Hylands either wrote or co-wrote, which also shows the half "Vanity-firm" that this whole venture was. Hylands sent out many associates on his behalf to get copies sold of their music, and to find more people in his circles to write music and have him publish it(with his name on it). He did give advance copies of music to a selected few people, Roger Harding being one, and Len Spencer being another, which stems from what he saw as a music director. 

Hylands' slogan was "Here Hot Hits Happen", which he most likely wrote in his own hand at the top of their very stylish and intricate logo(in that slightly lefty-looking handwriting of his, observe how the treble clef is drawn). Hylands kept his profits up for a great many months, with many famous performers coming to chat with him and maybe share a drink or two. Some of those performers include Barney Fagan, Byron Harlan, May Irwin, and probably even Lillian Russell:

Fred probably hosted her for a lavish dinner one evening, and they kept up with each other's appetites for sure!(She was famous for that among other things!). It was all good for Fred, with money like he'd never seen before, and he was happier than he ever could be, even if Columbia was still kicking him around. By 1900, he was still getting things published, more on his end of the music though. Most of the publishing he did in 1900 was his music, though he did publish a single piece by J. Fred Helf( a very popular ballad composer) again early that year. He must have seen his finish by then, with the publishing business becoming too incredibly competitive and "cut-throat", it was evident that his promises would soon leave him broke and depressed. 

By September of 1900, he was the closest to broke he had ever been, even though he was working at Columbia frequently still, the firm was starting to be take over by the larger firms that were buying out all the small ones. By the end of October, Hylands was taken by another big firm, and he had to sell all his stock to them, and give them most of his profits that were left. At this, Hylands had to tell everyone who was involved that it was over completely, and that none of the profits survived the buying out. He became depressed from this, and was short on cash until he got paid by Columbia, as it was his only source of income at this time. Marie had to go back to work by this time, as she needed to provide for them as well(she had been out of work since about April of that year), which meant that she was out late as well. This firm seemed like a terrible thing to Fred after it all passed by, but it really was a great thing while it lasted! It was the first real attempt to unite recording artists, composers and publishers into a single business, with open engagements and kind hospitality. It's a piece of music history that should at least be mentioned in books about the 1890's, or about history of the music business, because it was a powerhouse of music exchange that only lasted a year and a half, but a whole lot made that year very long for everyone involved in the firm. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Some history to The Phonoscope and etc.

Well, it has been an interesting few days on this blog, with some heated comments below, how it's been something. Now to let that all behind me and to move confidently onward, I would like to do a post about how to navigate and fully understand a magazine that I often make reference to on this blog, The Phonoscope. It's something that not everyone will fully understand once delving into its pages, so many pages need some explaining. 

Here's the first thing about it, it was a magazine written by and for people who knew the record business or were in it. It was a magazine targeted at recording artists, and independent exhibitioners(or even some record buyers). Russell Hunting:

He knew what his audience was when he decided to go through with starting this magazine in 1896. His friends in the record business probably were skeptical about the idea, but once the first two issues went out, it proved to be a great success. Not bad for a jailbird redeeming himself. 

The first handful of issues were all written mostly by Hunting, but after that, he was only the (somewhat lousy) editor. The first three issues were a real "pot luck" of interesting topics and writing styles. Hunting was mentioned far more than any of the other artists in the first few issues, for obvious reasons, and the sections that are in the first two issues are really a great way to look at the early recording business through Hunting's eyes. The column of Our Tattler was absolutely scattered and absurdly hilarious in the two 1896 issues, here's a section from the November 1896 issue:

these are all hilarious, you've got to admit. And that was the point! The Our Tattler section was oftentimes the comedic section of the magazine where short phonograph-related stories were and little studio mishaps could be read about often. This magazine is a greater resource of information about the inner workings of the early recording business more than anything else that's in a modern book, as it contains great descriptions of the studios, locations, scandal stories, reports on lawsuits and court battles, and everything else that can be thought of when referring to the early recording business. Sometimes the descriptions of recording studios then are better than any I can give on this blog, like this one here from the December 1896 issue:

Could not have been said any better Mr. Hunting. 

That should give you a pretty good picture. That sums up much of the studio recording process of that time, seemingly slow and incredibly social, even though thousands of records were made and sold every week. The General News section was then where all phonograph related news and studio doings went after the beginning of 1897. 1897 was also the year that all the recording stars began to actually start their own record companies, such as the Universal Phonograph Company, of which you can see those involved here:

Yep, most of those can be read easily(I hope!). You not only get to see the modern and stylish signature of Russ Hunting, but also the graceful and gorgeous one of Len Spencer's! Many more ads for this company lasted into the middle of 1897. One thing you can also find that is really helpful in this magazine, it the sequence in which certain things of importance happened, like when the Columbia announcements changed from "...of New York city" to the more well-known "..of New York and Paris", and that's an important event in Columbia's history. You can also find when Issler's orchestra morphed into the Columbia orchestra, which that can be officiated in the April 1897 issue here:

"picollo" ha! That's some nice editing Mr.  Hunting. 

The Phonoscope really helps the fact that no ledgers from 1890's Columbia exist, so some things can be pieced together. Things that were lost with the burned ledgers. You can find a great description of Columbia's new headquarters at 27th and Broadway in New York at the beginning of their July 1897 issue, which is where that illustration I used a few posts back about the Columbia clan came from. As many magazines go, there are some issues that are full of important sections and information, and there are some that are not really as informative. They didn't exactly state when Columbia hired Fred Hylands, but it was certainly later in 1897. 1898 was really when the business started to become heated, and I would even be willing to argue that 1898 was one of the most important years of the acoustic era in recording. It was the official death date of the  "round" era, and it was an extraordinary year of exchange, progress, and gossip. It was when the dynamics of the exhibitions became more uniform, depending on the company that was hosting them. Edison had their fancy and gilded ones with a few sly hustlers from their staff doing theirs, whereas at Columbia's

they were lavish gatherings with drinks and food offered, and hosted easily twice as many people as the Edison exhibitions. The only downside to the Columbia exhibitions is that they lasted until after midnight each night, unlike the Edison ones, that went until about 10 or 11. In fact, speaking of the 1898 issues, here are some of the best sections from 1898 issues of The Phonosope:

(absolutely love this one, as the drinking habit can finally be proven with Spencer!)

Yes indeed, all the 1898 issues have something interesting to offer, no matter of what it happens to be that they are describing. Once 1899 came upon them, that was when Fred Hylands was getting the most attention in the issues. He is mentioned a substantial amount of time in 1899 issues, much more than in the 1898 issues. That just goes to show you how important the whole publishing firm jag was to the Phonoscope writers, to record companies and other jealous publishers. Hylands was able to stick his tongue at the other publishers who wanted to have the studio artists exclusively tied to their music. Hylands had all the studio stars on strings, something that the other big publishers( like Leo Fiest, Joseph Stern, and George Spaulding) were drooling over with envy. The amount of attention Hylands Spencer and Yeager got in the 1899 issues is really amazing, as in some issues, there are two or three pieces in the General News column that speak of various doings with the firm. It really must have been a good way to spread the recording business to more than just the studio. It was a good idea, for a short time frame(I will do a post exclusively on the full history of Hylands Spencer and Yeager soon!). The magazine was becoming much more complicated and tangled up by the end of 1899, which the December 1899 issue is the latest one that you can look at online for some reason. The 1900 issues are just as fascinating as I have heard, as one of the sections I have read from it describes how the artists think they can sing any songs, even though they cannot really. For example, George Gaskin singing "coon songs" rather than his usual Irish songs. I have not read any others of the 1900 issues, but I would certainly like to! 

I anyone knows how to access the 1900 issues of The Phonoscope, pleas comment on this post! 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Character Studies--Victor Emerson(1866-1926)

That's Emerson in 1917.

 and that's Emerson in c.1898-99

(I figured out this picture! It's not Steve Porter, but it's Victor Emerson! see the similarities now?)

Now this man as always had mixed opinions surrounding his leadership at Columbia. Some say he was a very "formal and charming man"(said John MacDonald in 1904), but others had said that Emerson was the one who owed half their life to them. He wasn't the "CEO" of Columbia, but the fact that he was the studio manager is enough to know what his job was at Columbia. He was indeed that chap who began the Emerson record company in the mid-1910's, and watched it fall downward in the early 1920's. He was the one who witnessed much of the wild Columbia antics of the late-1890's and was the "boss-man"(pardon my crass historical reference...) of the studio "wage-slaves"(which included everyone on salary there!).

Emerson was not trained musically at all, therefore he was practically tone-deaf and had not an ear for music. That really explains pretty much everything about late-1890's Columbia. Emerson became the studio manager in 1897 at Columbia, and it took some getting used to. 1897 was a very big transition year at Columbia, and Emerson was right in the middle of it, from the studio manager, pianist, orchestra director, "contracted" staff, and even location, all of these things were changed in 1897. Emerson was a seemingly kind an quiet studio manager at first, seeing George Schweinfest, Ed Issler, Russell Hunting, Len Spencer, and all the regulars in '97 come in was not discomforting to him. But in later 1897, a new threat came to him----Fred Hylands. 

Ooh! How Hylands must have been intimidating to Emerson! It couldn't have been Emerson that hired Hylands, there's no way the he'd be in that sort of mindset to drag him by the collar into their studio. Emerson must have enjoyed Steve Porter though(who came in around the same time as Hylands), as Porter was a similar man to Emerson in many ways. Porter's tantalizing accumulated wealth also kept him of interest to Emerson, and his fellows in management at Columbia(like Edward Easton for example). Emerson was said to be a demanding man in the studio, standing oftentimes just behind the mouths of the horns off to the right corner of the room. You'd never be able to see him when coming in to the big recording room, as he'd be hidden, like a hawk, being the source of surveillance behind the back of the piano. Whenever  one of the artists walked in, they oftentimes poked their heads through the main door of the studio to see if Emerson or Easton was there, if not just yet, then they could come in safely without any comments from Emerson. Some of his comments would be similar to,"How you made so many great takes of (place song title here) last week!", or something like, "You should re-do that song", or even like, "I shouldn't like to think that your take of (place song title here) was very good, so you should do some other ones." He would give out all sorts of lousy suggestions to the staff members, as though he actually gave a rap about the music that he was managing. He really didn't care about the music, he was all about the technical and business side of the field he was in. He tried to become one of the "Columbia clan" but his far too conservative and harsh ways could not get him "initiated" into the clan. Emerson's figure was easy to identify at Columbia. Someone like Fred Hylands was probably told in secret about how to talk to and charm Emerson not long after he began working on salary. Emerson was about 5'5 or 6, with hair tinted bronze blond, thin eyebrows, bent nose, and a slightly crooked mouth, that looked very often like it was naturally a frown. The thing about him were those strictly blue eyes, which were like a hammer on an anvil when he gave a stare to one of the staff members. His eyes being the hammer, and when they bolted at the other eyes of a staff member, the hammer struck the anvil. He was a nuisance to much of the Columbia clan and their doings in the late-90's, and this can be proven by the fact that he was not invited to Porter's yacht races in the summers of 1898 and 1899, which only the clan were invited to. Many of them did buy him lavish gifts to show a feigned sense of affection and invitation into the "clan", though they were surely used as distractions from all their faults from working in Emerson's studio. He remained high in Columbia's management well after 1900, and saw all of the Climax feud of 1901-02, managing to escape the battle without any wounds. As the clan began to disband after 1902, Emerson began to make the artists work more and more, which was the opposite of what was needed to be done after the universal change to the gold moulded process. After many years at Columbia, he left them in c.1913, under unsolved and/or uncertain circumstances, but one thing is for certain, he began the Emerson label a few years after that. In 1915, he finally had the first Emerson records put out on the market, of which they were first very small 5-inch records with a fanciful label adorned with an image of a steamboat. One of which you can see here:

(from my collection)

 Emerson records started to become very popular by 1917, which is the first year that they began making 10-inch vertical cut records. Emerson was aware of the competition he was up against at this time, including his old friend Russ Hunting over at Pathe. They were actually alright records, that sounded alright on the machines that were available at the time, but they were still not the most popular records selling during The Great War. His sales dropped steadily from 1919 to 1923, which was about the time that he ended sales of "Little Wonder" records, and not long after that, the Emerson record company also fell. He only lived another three years, dying at age 60. 

I got a whole bunch of information on this post from this link here:

http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/resources/detail/130

Enjoy the knowledge treasure trove!

(no mentioning of of Fred Hylands as a Columba pianist though...)

I hope you enjoyed this! 

New Discoveries and etc.

Yesterday evening, I did some odd research on "Google Earth", and did some looking around for locations of importance to early recording. The first thing that I looked for was the address of the Columbia headquarters, which you can see here:

That's the building I was looking for. 

I typed in "27th and Broadway, New York city", and I was taken to a specific location. That got me all excited! But when I zoomed in, I saw a boring brown building in the place of the one seen above. It almost made me cry, but the one thing that is amazing is that the building directly to its left is still there. I can see that they probably tore the place down in the 1970's(when all of the ledgers were destroyed), and built something else in its place. It's bizarre to think, all the people who pass by that corner where Columbia was probably have not any idea of what was once there. They have no idea of the amount of history that occurred there at that very corner. It's gone, so there's nothing to do about it. I will go there someday, stand on that corner, and imagine the swells walking by, in and out of the glass doors, and make the commute Fred Hylands once made from his home in 1898 to that corner. 

Also when doing these odd studies last evening, I looked up the Hylands home in 1899-1900, as according to the census. And wha'd'ye know! I found it! And guess what, I realised that the location of:

was actually at Hylands' home. WHOA! That's really strange. Hmm, that's just really weird to me for some reason, I guess it's because he pretty much used his flat as a sort of boardinghouse for performers he liked. Just to back myself up(since there are some people who assume that I'm thinking too wishfully with that) here's this section:

"You are cordially invited to make our office your headquarters when in New York."

also, " Every facility has been provided for your convenience."

Ha! It's just somewhat comical that he was literally inviting all of those performers he worked with into where he lived, and where his father lived. I wonder what his father thought of all of these people staying over... 

I looked up the location of Hylands' first firm(the one where his "Darkey Volunteer(s)" was published), and it's a little farther away from Columbia, but it's not really within walking distance(considering Hylands' physique, most could walk it, but Hylands wouldn't). That old building, which is 223 East 14th street, is still there. Now since I know that his second firm was at where he lived, it could well be assumed that this was the case with the 14th street address. Which that would be just as bizarre. 
It makes sense! Hylands moved from 14th street out to 27th in 1899 for the all the logistical reasons, as where the firm was, it was only a block away from the studio, unlike the 14th street home he lived in back in 1898. He could easily walk to the studio in 1899 and 1900(and probably for the rest of the time that he worked at Columbia).
The fact that he lived a block away from Columbia's headquarters also proves even more that he still worked there in after 1898, as some people still think that he only worked there in 1897 and 1898, but they wouldn't get rid of him in such a short time. 
I will eventually go out to all of these places, and maybe tell the people who live/work in these places the sort of history that happened in these places. Probably will get odd looks at comments, they'll be weirded out for sure 




Anyhow, it's also Arthur Collins' birthday to-day, so I thought it would be of importance to share some great records by Collins. 

The first one I would like to showcase is a fantastical example of Rag-Time on early records. It's Collins' version of "Just because she made them Goo Goo eyes" from 1903. What a hot Rag-Time record! The reason it's so great is because of Frank P. Banta behind Collins, and he really plays all the best he could. I have heard some record collectors argue about the piano accompaniment on this one, as it's so good compared to others. It's Banta alright, no arguments needed. 
This next one is a classic example of Collins, on a Leeds record from 1904. It's one of his many versions of "The Preacher and the Bear". Here you go with his Leeds recording of "The Preacher and the Bear" from 1904(with Fred Hylands prominently featured on piano). Leeds records never sounded great, and this is a prime example of that, but Hylands is the loudest thing on the record other than Collins, which was obviously not intended. It's a great example of Rag-Time regardless. 
This next one is one that I shared for a different reason a little while back, but it's Collins' "All I Wants is my Chickens" from 1898(with Frank Banta on piano). Another great example Rag-Time, and this time it's on brown wax! Collins is his usual self with the early Rag-Time on this one, sounding more like Len Spencer. Here's an observation for those Collins fans out there, on records, notice that Collins sounded more like Len Spencer before 1901, but after that, he had a different singing style(very slightly). In saying this, listen to this one first Collins' "Hello Ma Baby" from 1899(with Frank Banta on piano!)
Len Spencer's(with Fred Hylands), also 1899

Now listen to Collins' "Good Bye Eliza Jane" from 1903.
Quite a difference eh? Yes indeed, Collins' voice seemed to lose that sort of tinny and slightly louder style after the brown wax era. It's just something that I noticed a while back but didn't point it out sooner. 

Happy Birthday Mr. Collins! 

I hope you enjoyed this!

Why is Fred Hylands forgotten but Frank Banta isn't?

Fred Hylands

Why is one of these studio pianists forgotten(as with the majority of record collectors), while the other one isn't? 

It be a hard question to answer, and as of now, there is not a straight answer to it. I just had a conversation this evening with my dear friend Marty Eggers about this unsolved mystery. It's some thing that can get suspicious when examining the surviving examples of interviews and magazine sections. Many will speak very highly and kindly of Frank P. Banta, with everything about his certainly "easy" and pleasing personality present, about him working at Edison. But hmm...nothing about the pianist who worked at Columbia. A little strange isn't it? 

Yes indeed. That Edison pianist was so well praised for his talent, abilities, silence, modesty, and work ethic. Why was he the more acknowledged? Well, let's just first take into consideration that Columbia's ledgers were destroyed in the 1970's, but other than that, there has to be other reasons why Hylands isn't mentioned in the interviews that survive of the artists from that time. Why is that so? It's a very bizarre thing, and thinking of it this way can really start to spark quite a lot of theories. Some of the theories I have heard range from Hylands being simply not being in the studio very much after 1898 to some like Hylands being a varying character in complexity in the studio, and that was not easy on the management. It's varying. 

One of my opinions about this would lean more toward the slightly bi-polar nature of Hylands. When I say this, I mean that Hylands was described sometimes(most of the time if you find anything on Hylands, it will most likely say this) as a very fun character, who made friends wherever he went, as he was a man who won everyone over with his charm. Something like this from 1900:

(sorry it's so small...)

 However, take a moment to recall that he complained about working there, saying that the managers worked him too much:

 That pretty much reveals his feeling of importance over at Columbia. He said that he is ordered to play piano, get his pay for it, and even with all that, he still has to work here. That give us a hint into the side of Fred Hylands that was never written down. This could mean that he could sometimes be a person that the studio managers didn't want to deal with. Maybe when he was drunk in the studio he was like this. The sort of character Hylands could have been sometimes was the reason that the managers sometimes considered getting rid of him often between 1899 and 1904. 

Why was Hylands absent from all the interviews and letters? 

That's the real part of this mystery. There has to be a reason that he wasn't mentioned anywhere in Jim Walsh's articles(I dare you! go on the Library of Congress Website, type Jim Walsh into the search bar and look through the collection list, you won't find him listed anywhere!) What was it about Hylands that forced Walsh to not mention him anywhere? It could be that since Walsh didn't say anything provocative or controversial in his articles about any of these artists, which is respectable. However! I have been told by my friend Craig that Walsh did indeed hear quite a lot of scandalous information about many of these great artists, he heard everything about all of these figures, but he did not want to specify. Of course, this information could be about anyone in the business, but could this at all contribute to the absence of mentioning Fred Hylands? It's possible, as Hylands was a hard person to work with on some fronts, as his firm collapsed rather quickly after just over a year and half in 1900, due mostly to his frustration in Len Spencer, and somewhat with Harry Yeager. 

Hylands would be "two-faced" if you will, sometimes. I bet in the studios when he came in at 8 in the morning, he was kind and warm most often, but by the evenings, he was a broken mess who would come back home and yell at his father and wife. Probably would moan about the amount the Columbia people worked him as it would seem that he did indeed do that, hence the image from The Phonoscope above. It's all just fascinating. 

Yes indeed, we do know that Frank P. Banta is remembered because of his son Frank Edgar:

He fondly remembered his father in the 1940's, and his account of his father is what kept Frank P. Banta from being forgotten. 

Whatever it was that is hidden about Hylands' personality, it's probably one of the contributing factors to why Hylands is forgotten as a studio pianist now. 

Who was it spoke of Hylands long ago? It is obvious that someone spoke of him many years ago in an interview or letter, but who was it? It's clear that Hylands was listed in obscure record anthologies in the 1970's and 1980's. It's hard to know who it was. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands

That's Collins and Harlan around 1916-17. 

(and that's a sketch, by me, of Hylands in 1898)

Now I think I have said this before, but the only reason I don't speak of  Collins and Harlan very often is because of the amount of researching I had to do for my seminar on them back in 2014. It was so much information about them, it made me sort of "sick" of their records for a while. It was so much on them, so much listening, and all else about them. I had to take a break from their music for a while after that seminar. 

I still have a deep liking for them regardless. Not exactly the same kind as before my seminar, but it's a more "enlightened" view, which is in a little bit more detail since then. It was much more complicated than I knew back at my seminar, more than I thought it was. 

A subject that I have been digging into a little bit this evening is some thing that I have briefly mentioned on this blog, Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands on piano behind them. It was a very convoluted thing really, with those three personalities in a single Columbia studio. From what has been said about all three of these characters, one could easily come to assume that these sessions were battles of not only music, but power, strength, and penetration on the records. At some odd times(many as a matter of fact), Hylands was the loudest sound on the recordings by these three, which was certainly not at all intended. Hylands ofttimes played very loudly and powerfully behind Collins and Harlan, usually playing them with his music, smiling and looking out to them with an expression intending to say, "Look at this boys!" Since they were all good friends, Hylands was very kind and comfortable being around them in the studio, even if he and Collins were at constant battle with their presence in the room. 

On every record I have heard where Hylands is behind Collins and Harlan, he's showing off all his tricks, all over the place. That was a typical thing with Hylands on many records, but when he was behind Collins and Harlan, it was especially so. 

Anyhow, here are some examples of Hylands behind them. 

This first one was a popular number in 1901-02 that Collins recorded first with Joe Natus, but later with Harlan, as was the case with many selections of theirs. Here's Weber and Fields' "Tell Us Pretty Ladies" from 1902.
This is a prime example of Hylands "playing" with them, throwing in all sorts of trills and arpeggios everywhere, missing notes occasionally from looking away from the keyboard, and hitting some nastily loud octaves. There aren't too many records where you can really hear the pianist using the sustain pedal, but this is one where it's very prominent. This is so much so that it reveals some of the "wire" like aspects of Columbia's practically "dead" piano(well, it was beaten half to death by the man who's playing it on this record...). It's a great record in many ways, even if Hylands is much better recorded than Collins and Harlan for some reason. You can literally hear every note he plays here, no questions asked. There aren't many records from the piano accompaniment era(1889-c.1905) that have that amazing range(and sense of dynamics!).

This next one is a rowdy one! Now it's not really intended to be that way(hmm, starting to notice a pattern of Hylands making records not exactly as intended to be...) it's supposed to be a sort of dainty comic song, and that's what Collins and Harlan make it, but Hylands turns it into a rowdy vaudeville act. The one thing that he did on this cylinder that makes it that way is the elbow on the piano thing, which I don't think I need to point out, as it's loud and says for itself:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder6868
This one really calls attention to Hylands. It's one of those records where someone who doesn't consider the piano accompaniment would hear it and think, "Who's that pianist?", mostly from hearing that loud and absurd smash! 
It's very clever though. 
I think I have explained previously what Hylands and Collins' experiences together in the Columbia studio must have been like, but just to refresh that idea, I will explain it again. Collins would come into the studio at Columbia after many other artists for the day, like Dan Quinn, Gaskin, Myers, or Ossman. Collins would come in after Hylands had had some drinks, and was tired of most of the day already. He would not just enter the room only physically, his presence would fill the room with him. Hylands would greet him with that charm he was known for, but reluctantly, seeming as though he were distracted somewhat by something else in his thoughts(in saying that, Hylands actually was like that most often when interacting with people, adding to his obvious narcissism, really ponder that for a moment, think back to the quote from Hylands that I use often on this blog...). Collins knew Hylands was a force in any studio, so he tried his best to manipulate him as best he could, though it was hard to, as Hylands was  quick enough to catch any insidious behaviors at the right moments. Collins' sessions with Hylands must have been amazing battle really, very entertaining hours of word-play, foul language, and the wit of a Yankee and a Hoosier. 

Times with Harlan were a little more kind-spirited. Harlan was not nearly as quick-witted and crass as Hylands, but they understood each other, and felt like they had a genuine connection. Their sessions had much more laughter, jokes, and small mistakes. Of course, Hylands didn't know that they were made a duo until December 1902(two months after they began as a duo), as when they both came in for that first Columbia session, Hylands must have been pleasantly surprised to see that they were that new duo the studio managers were talking about. That certainly must have made for an interesting session. 

I have the feeling that Harlan never completely forgot Hylands, there's just not really any evidence of him mentioning him in his letters to Jim Walsh in the 1930's(unless I'm wrong and someone has read all of them and can tell me otherwise! If so, please do comment!). I have the feeling that it must have been like how Dan Quinn recalled Frank P. Banta fondly later in the same decade. At least I would hope so. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Mina Hickman before Ada Jones and Some interesting alternate takes

I know nothing of Mina Hickman, but she was a very early female recording artist who needs to be noticed. No one I know has any information on her either, so it's very weird of a case. The only reason I've had a spark of interest in Hickman is because I heard a cylinder yesterday by Len Spencer and Mina Hickman(with Fred Hylands on piano!). I was not at all expecting this duo, I didn't even know that Hickman ever made records with Spencer! That says quite a lot about Spencer's ideas when making records, that he already had  female partner on records before Ada Jones. 

Ada Jones didn't join Spencer on records until 1905, and several years before that, Spencer had Minnie Emmett and Mina Hickman. These two ladies were the "token women" of the Columbia and Victor companies, as this was long before Sophie Tucker and Ada Jones. It was in fact Emmett that Harry Spencer tested his device for recording the female voice in 1897. I don't know any details about this device, but it must have been an interesting contraption. Anyhow, that record of "Reuben and Cynthia" by Spencer and Hickman is here.

(It's the second take listed on the page). It's very weird indeed. Len Spencer, Mina Hickman, and Fred Hylands, on a cylinder in 1901. I wonder where she came from, how and who discovered her, and when exactly. I don't know if it was before 1900, because that's when she began making records. She's a little hard to find any information on, as no matter where you go to find any, you won't find it. Before I began this post, I dug around for anything on Mina, and I couldn't find anything that didn't have to do with listing the records she made. Now, there's something that tells me that Hickman might have been one of those pretty women that Hylands and Spencer endorsed in 1899-1900 on their sheet music covers. She might have been one of those ladies that Hylands or Burt Green had to "bribe" to get her involved with their firm(if you know what I might be getting at...). 

If anyone knows any personal information about Mina Hickman, like where she was born, and when, please comment here!

Now onto the second part of this post. 
This first record is by these two here:

Freddy Hylands 

and Dan Quinn.
Now it's been a while since I have highlighted a record by Quinn, and it's time to do that once again, also to pay my kindly dues to the Quinn family. 
Now this record is one that I don't think I have ever pointed out on here. It's a fun English comic song with great lyrics and fun piano playing. 
Here are two takes of "The Penny Whistler" by Dan Quinn and Fred Hylands, 
recorded in 1903
Now these two takes are very different. Much more than one would think listening to them just once through. The first thing I need to point out about these two takes is that Hylands' rhythm is very unsteady and kind of broken. This is one of those few times where it really sounds like Hylands was drunk on both of the takes. Usually it's one take that's especially noticeable, but both of these are a mess. I do think that take 2 is a little better rhythm wise than take 5. Take 5 is a real mess, and since it was recorded later, it can safely be assumed that Hylands had some drinks between takes. They aren't that far from each other though, it's only a difference of three takes. Three can make a difference. 
Also, here's some observations to make about the differences of these takes;
-Take 5 is slower
-Take 2 has a different 10 second solo by Hylands at the end from take 5

-There's this very slight melodic change that I don't think any of you were able catch, at about 0:15 in on take 2, Hylands hits the same note in the bass between the chords, but listen to that on take 5-- it's a different note!(with a different weird chord also...)

**now that melodic difference ^^ is a very "Hylands" thing, as he did that quite often in his regular playing, which is adding weird notes, octaves, or chords that are not exactly equal with the notes that are being played in the right hand, but do as  matter of fact work when you play them, not exactly when seeing them written**

Now for an even better comparison, here's a different take of it! On a disc this time:
here's the same song but on a Columbia disc,take # not given though :-(
This one also has Hylands on piano, and it's even more interesting and weird from the other takes. This one has some odd aspects to it that were not present on the other ones. You can notice that Hylands' rhythm is even worse on this one than on takes 2 and 5. This one is slower!(at some parts...)The solo at the end is very different from the other two though, and what it is, is very odd, It's kind of a strange little dance section with very rushed trills(as he knew he was running out of time!). 


Onto the second batch of takes. This next one is a bunch of takes of "Bill Bailey" by differing singers and Hylands, all recorded within a few weeks of each other. This song was recorded so many times in 1902 that there's no doubt to be many different takes by the same artists and different ones. Now this first one is a 7-inch of the song with Bob Roberts:
here's take 11.
sounds just as slow as it needs to be, with a perfect tempo chosen by Hylands, paired with fantastic right hand improvisations.
now that you've internalized that take:
here's take 12. 
Quite different indeed. Here are differences:
-Take 12 is slower
-Hylands' rhythm is a little more shaky on take 12
-Hylands was more controlled in playing on take 11
-Hylands hits two chords at 1:26, whereas on take 11, he doesn't do that
- Hylands' left hand is much more steady and controlled on take 11

They are very interesting takes indeed, but there are more! As I said, this song was recorded many times in 1902, so it is easier to find other takes of this one than others. This next take was probably recorded on the same day as the last two, but was released on a cylinder, so it has a much different sound to it. 
Here is another take of Bob Roberts singing "Bill Bailey". 
This is a very fun take as well, even if it's not exactly the same as the other ones. There's quite a lot different about this one. The piano playing is the most Hylands you could get, as every aspect of his playing is present, even the broken octaves(they're hard to hear though...). 
This take is much like Arthur Collins' Zon-O-Phone from the same time, which you can hear here. Now this Zon-O-Phone is one of the most wild examples of Rag-Time I have ever heard on records from the piano accompaniment era. It beats everything Hylands did with Len Spencer in the late-1890's ten fold. It's really an amazing record, with Hylands playing till he dropped on the last strain. One thing is for sure about this Zon-O-Phone, it's not Banta on piano! 

Now this final take is by Collins as well, but it's a Columbia this time, and it's the famous record of "Bill Bailey" that everyone uses. 
Here you go. 
I love that on all of those CD's that had this record on it always say that the pianist is "anonymous" or "unknown", or if they want to seem like they all know what it it they're talking about, it'll say Frank P. Banta. HA! That's all just mush! We all know it's Fred Hylands, and now that he's not forgotten, we can place him rightfully in the section of "Studio pianist" on this record. Seeing the pianist as "unknown" or just "Studio pianist" always irritates me greatly, as they were very hard-working musicians who were almost worked to death for the singers. 

Anyhow, onto a record that's a little bit of a different one. It's a record by a singer I don't mention too often on this blog:

Yes indeed(that's him in c.1900)
Now this cylinder is a bit of a mystery, as the record company cannot be traced. 
here's "My Honolulu Lady" by Frank C. Stanley, c.1898. 
This is a fascinating cylinder, as the record company is unknown, the date is very unsure, and the piano accompaniment is fantastic. Now I have a notion that the piano accompaniment is by Fred Hylands, even if it's an unknown or forgotten record company. The Rag style in the accompaniment is too syncopated and "lazy" if you will for it to be Frank P. Banta. I know that this cylinder cannot be a pirated Edison cylinder, and it is also important to remember that many independent record companies started up in the 1897-1900 era(when this cylinder was recorded), and Frank Stanley did make records for many of these obscure companies in his earliest days of record-making. It's a fantastic cylinder either way, that, even though it's very quiet, it's still very clear, and has the Rag-Time piano mastery of Fred Hylands. 

I hope you enjoyed this!