Friday, July 31, 2015

Quinn and Hylands and similar things

I have been listening to several records by Dan W. Quinn and Hylands from last evening to this morning. They make for an interesting duo, as we all know Quinn had a special friendship with Banta, but when he wasn't recording at Edison, he had Fred Hylands to accompany him. Same for his Zon-O-Phone records. 
Quinn, we know him and we love him. 
Some of his records from after 1900 can get obscure and unusual, such as this first one I want to share from 1903. I think this is a Columbia(if not, my next guess is a Zon-O-Phone not having an announcement is a problem sometimes), well here you go:
Anyone know what dialect that's supposed to be? 
I think it's a mix of a bowery dialect and something else. I have never come across it on these old records, especially from Quinn. The piano just makes this record very fun and interesting, the piano is a very wire-ey sounding one, more so than most of the pianos I have heard on these old records. The only other piano that really sounds like the one on this record was Columbia's old piano(the one that Hylands played in late-1897 and early 1898). Here is an example of that piano from Columbia:
I can tell that that piano was kind of a mess. I can be hard to hear a little bit, but it comes through once they get to the section in A flat. It sounds like a rugged old piano alright. And by late-1897, Columbia had found its match for the piano. 
Anyhow, back to Quinn and Hylands. This next one is for sure a Zon-O-Phone, as it is said in the announcement by Quinn. It's for sure that Hylands is on the piano behind him, I am pretty certain, as from the Ragged things he plays in the accompaniment. 
(the record is played way too fast though...)
I don't know if I have shared this on here before. I think I probably did a while back. This is really an obscure one, every time I hear it I think that Quinn only recorded this one on Victor other than this, and that's really saying something for him. Hylands is really good on this one though, the perfectly Ragged accompaniment really compliments Quinn well sometimes, and Hylands and Banta really knew how to make it work well. 

This next one is al old favourite of mine as far as Quinn goes. I learned how to play this song after hearing this record, and it was one of the first ones I did from learning from cylinders. Here you go, with the great accompaniment of Hylands(not being very Ragged, but missing plenty of audible notes!):

Yep, Hylands is pretty, eh, interesting, on this one...

I still love this record because of the memories I have with it. I loved it from the first time I heard it, not knowing who the pianist was of course. A long while after I heard it and learned the song, I figured out who the pianist was, and the mistakes made more sense to me. It's fun record all the same, and you know that Quinn liked the song, and that Hylands was confident, and maybe a little drunk(of course!). Hey, it was recorded in 1898, so that was when Hylands was at his height of love and respect from the staff at Columbia. 

Now this next one I know I have shared on this blog before. I still love it because the piano is wild. It's Hylands not using any music is what it is. Basically, what the sequence of this round was is this:


-Quinn hands Hylands the music


-Hylands reads through it, plays it quick, (not the whole song though, just the melody), and everyone in the studio gets the cheering cue



-Hylands hands the music back to Quinn(no music needed)

-Hylands shakes out his hands(takes a drink), and Quinn gives the ready to the engineer(probably Harry Spencer)

-The round begins, and this is what we hear of it:
Hylands had no time to figure out an ending, so he just made it up as it came along. I can tell that Hylands hadn't the music in front of him when they did this. It's pretty obvious that he just figured out the melody, and played.  All of the very quick but simple  trills show for it(and only playing the melody occasionally).
This next one is another one that I have a great love for. Only because it's absolutely charming and really fun. I have indeed shared this one before, but for a good reason. This is that cylinder that you can hear Hylands clapping quick and cheering from his "perch" high behind Quinn. Here you go with Quinn's second Vaudeville Specialty from 1900:
Ha!(literally...) Hylands back there is having way too much fun!
One thing that I didn't note last time I shared this cylinder that I have noticed is that there's an awful lot of chatter behind Quinn when he's speaking. It's a little hard to hear, but if you're listening closely, you can hear it. I also like that Quinn calls Hylands "Professor", that is something that I have always found funny about this record, other than Hylands being the only one laughinHag and clapping, also yelling "Encore! Encore!" at the end. I just love it. Quinn's Vaudeville Specialties on the Victors are not as charming as these Columbia's, even though Banta's accompanying him on those. Here is the one that came to mind when I thought of this:
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002432/Pre-matrix_B-3290-Vaudeville_specialty_no._2
Ha! San Francisco jokes...
The only thing is that I could only wish Quinn did was let the "Professor" talk(he calls him that again!). My friend John Reed-Torres loves the rendition of  "Coon, Coon Coon" on this and I do to. I just wish I could verify the pianist for him, I'm still stuck between Hylands and Banta on this, it can go both ways, that's the problem. I lean more toward Banta on this one though. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 


Wednesday, July 29, 2015

More Observations and items of interest

This time around, I don't think I want to focus on just a single subject matter, as I have been digging through many of my various things the past few days, and had found some interesting things. One of the first things that I came across was an interesting cylinder by a quartette that I have heard of before, here they are from the October, 1898 issue of The Phonoscope:
Hmm, I recognize two faces here...maybe three...
The two on the left I come across before.
Here is the cylinder I was talking about:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/6000/6705/cusb-cyl6705d.mp3
Immediately after listening to the cylinder, I dug through my record books for identification of the personnel for this "Excelsior Quartette". I didn't find them anywhere. So the next thing that I turned to was The Phonoscope , I looked around through the editions and found them. I had seen this picture before(I mean the one above)as I had been looking for those anecdotes about Spencer and Hylands and such, but I had never really found a reason to use it for anything, until I realized who the little man in the middle is. 
I knew that the man in the far left is William F. Hooley, but I looked through the advertisements for the "Excelsior Phonograph Company" for identification of personnel on their staff, hoping for more clues. 
Here is what I used for this:
I wasn't sure at first, but I knew him when I saw him, that man second from the left is none other than:
Roger Harding! 
That's right! I am completely convinced that's Harding. Also because I heard his piping tenor voice in the quartette anyhow. The eyes are what got me thinking, because I knew I had seen them paired with them whiskers. The glasses! Those weren't in the other picture of him! I like him even more like that! I was talking about George Graham being picturesque last week or so, but Harding takes the prize on that!
The thing that frustrates me about this is that I cannot identify the two on the right of the picture, but I know that it's one of the artists mentioned in their advertisements. I now think that the man on the right in the back is the man that I spoke of yesterday, S. H. Dudley, as he is mentioned in EVERY advertisement of the Exelsior record company. 
Now this next thing I found just this evening, so I must share it. It is a typical cylinder by the Columbia orchestra from 1899, as it's on a CD with all 1899 cylinders, so in sharing this with you I had to find the exact point of where the cylinder begins, but if you want to hear some of the other interesting cylinders here, you may do so, it's really an interesting mix! 
So here you go, skip to 57:47 for it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxErKt40ZQ4
Oh! How it's a mess alright! Hylands is lagging behind the rest of the band painfully! OOH! I just cannot get over how much of a disaster the piano is on this one. The tempo for the Rag(Cakewalk) is perfect in the band's playing, but the problem is that Hylands' tempo is JUST behind the band to where it's absolutely jarring upon listening. But I know it's Hylands only because he's doing much of the same things that can be heard on other records where he accompanies the Columbia orchestra. Such as this great rarity of Rag-Time from only two years later:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpU2pWTZiVg
(listen to the Gottschalk-like rhythm at 4:17 to 4:24!)
He replays the last strain of the record more clearly with a fresh needle. That's why the video is so long. Once he gets the end clearer, really listen to the Ragged and slightly Tango-like piano accompaniment! That's Hylands alright. I just recently got to play this record again at one of my kind record collector friend's house. How it's a loud one! I forget how loud those Columbia discs were for their time, I had to stand three feet away from the edge of the horn after I got the record playing at the right speed(as I am extremely particular about the record speeds). Those Columbia's were made to be loud, and how they damn right were. Their cylinders and discs alike. I played a Victor monarch of Banta and the Metropolitan orchestra from the same year right after and I could barely hear it! I had to stick my head into the wooden horn to hear anything. I'm not saying that Victor's weren't good records, I played Silas Leachman's "I'm Livin' Easy"(all of Leachman's tunes were on Victors) a little while later and I had to stand a foot and a half away from the horn to get the best sound out of it. 
Well, back to the brown wax of "Smokey Mokes", I listened to that cylinder the first time this evening and was immediately shocked by the piano's prevalence and how disorganized the piano is compared to the reasonably clean and slick band. I wonder if Hylands counted them off wrong, or they didn't even count it off. Hylands was too drunk to say, "one, two---one two!" like Banta always did. He must have hollered before they began the take:

"Ah'right boys! Le's start-er up!" 

And that was it probably. Because clearly, the counting off business didn't work on this take, and it's clear that this is what the Columbia orchestra sounded like when Hylands had already been there all day and had already been drugged and had enough to drink. It's still a great piece of early recorded Rag-Time.


I hope you enjoyed this! 

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

S. H. Dudley, Indiana boy no. 1(everything but his full quartet work)

There's Dudley in the middle. 
and here he is here in a clearer picture from 1896:
Well, that's Dudley. 
Or Rous must I say.
Samuel Holland Rous was his actual name, and "Mr. Rous" was what the boys knew him by in management at the record companies. He was one of those artists in the early days who thought he was the best there was on the records later in life, even though there were a handful of artists who surpassed him in skill and popularity. Dudley was the Indiana artist that came in the business before Hylands lumbered in. Dudley had been living on unstable finances as a youth, as his family kept in a business that called for constant moving. Young Sam's father was the superintendent of the schools in the area where the Rous family lived, which as I remember now, was near Greencastle, Indiana. Dudley hadn't been trained much, but it's clear that what he claimed later in life(that he hadn't been trained) wasn't true. Dudley was slightly like Richard Jose(seen below:
The similarity with Jose and Dudley is that they both lived a very long time, and that they were interviewed like mad when they were older, and most importantly that their stories and feelings about the recording business were questionable in their reliability. Jose's story has been glorified, thanks to his fame and his wife's dreamy feeling about him, with the fortune they had in his best days. Dudley was the same way, minus the fact that he was born into a reasonably well-off family(as Jose was a Cornish peasant boy in his youth). Dudley had a few years of voice lessons, and then he was off from the school-oriented Rous home out on his own in the acting world. He soon proved to be a very popular dramatist and singer, as he performed in early productions of  The Mikado, Faust, and Rigoletto all being from about the same time, which one date has been confirmed as mid-1890. One thing that only a few collectors know of is Dudley's wife. Madame Sofia Romani(0r as I have been told Romaine, or was it Romain?It's been a while since I though about this...). Madame Romaine, as she was called, was a singer that he worked alongside for years in the opera companies. The thing that's so rare and fascinating is that she made a few Victor records in 1901. 

I am SERIOUS, only less than a handful of collectors know this fact. Why? well, the only reason for this is that I know the record collector who owns the ONLY copy of Madame Romaine's only issued record from 1901. I have had the absolute privilege of actually getting to hear the  7-inch Victor monarch with Mr. Dudley's wife singing a popular song in that operatic soprano voice of hers.  After he played it  for me, he told me that it was the only known copy of the only issued record by her. He then told me that is was only sold for a few weeks then dropped from the catalog, possibly because of Dudley's obliging, for whatever reason he had for doing so. The record in itself would be worth $7,000. As he left the room to find another record, he set the one-in-existence record in my hands, and I stared at it in amazement. That was the first time I had ever been in that situation, holding the only copy of a record. It is a moment of silence, and transportation to the week that the record was able to be bought. Only a week, amazing. 

Well, Dudley having his wife record didn't last too long, clearly he thought he should try it out, but it didn't work. only two tests, and one was issued, and only sold for a week, well, that's enough to say it didn't work. But Dudley only rose from there in Victor's management, as from 1902 onward, he only climbed up the "Totem Pole" of Victor's staff, as he was no longer just an artist. He was beginning to work as the manager of personnel at Victor by 1902 and 1903, which meant that he was the chief talent scout when it came to the records. Now around this time, he began in the whole "Haydn Quartet" scheme, but as I said in the title of this post, I will skip all of that, only because it is a story that deserves its own post. All of Dudley's Quartet work does. He was the personnel manager at Victor from 1903 to 1916, and he edited the catalog issues from that time, and even started working on the famous Victor Book of the Opera which he worked on until the decade before he died. Since he had been working at a very high position at Victor for years, and had gone on to doing other high-paying work in the business, he had acquired an enormous amount of wealth by the early 1920's. He said later to Jim Walsh that he and his wife had a home in Monaco, and that they had been on trips to Africa, The Amazon, India, and around the world basically is what he said. He was a happy old man by this time, and was living extremely well off, only to be gladdened more so by finding letters from Ulysses Walsh in the mail by the early 40's. He must have been delighted to find someone other than his few surviving friends interested in his most beloved work of years passed. He told Walsh an overload of interesting things about the business in its early days, to when his time was winding down. 
The only thing that was a little odd about the great things that he told Walsh, is that he compared himself to Bing Crosby, in popularity terms. This analogy is obviously a very vain and untrue one, as there were many more artists in his time who made more records that him and were generally more popular than him. He had a reason to think this way though, being such a high executive at Victor and dealing with all sorts of different people as a talent scout would show for it.

He was not the "Bing Crosby of 1900", as Mr. Rous once said. 
But he was a fine baritone to hear. 


I hope you enjoyed this! 

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Forgotten Encounters

All of the early recording duos we know of as record geeks met somewhere. Some of them have great stories for the encounter, but some are vaguely remembered, or even forgotten altogether. One of these path crossing encounters that many collectors want to know is how these two met:
Byron Harlan(ha! or "The Western Tenor")
Yes indeed, how they first met and when has been a mystery since the days of their popularity. It's surprising that neither one of them ever said when and how they met the other. They were good partners and had a clinging friendship, but how it began, we will never know. Some think it began with them bumping into each other on a train ride in the 1890's, but some think of it more reasonably in that it was Frank C. Stanley(seen below) who first introduced them in 1900 or 1901:
I'm not sure what of the theories to favor, as I love Frank Stanley, and I like the image of younger Collins and Harlan running into one another getting on the same train in say, 1897. We do kind of know well that Collins and Harlan met prior to their first recording session on Halloween of 1902, as they are together in Edison's 42 artists picture of 1900:
Collins and Harlan are in the far left corner. Collins' smile is the way to find them, with the tall fresh-faced Fred Hager between them. 
They are right next to one another in this very significant picture! Coincidence? 
You think what you may about how Collins and Harlan first met. I personally think it was more of a work encounter in 1899, where Collins was in for the day announcing behind some orchestra and singers, and Harlan just happen to walk in, and you know the rest. 

Another duo I would like to know the beginning of is these two:
Len Spencer
And Dear old Freddy Hylands
Tall and strong Len Spencer met fat Freddy Hylands at some point in mid or late-1897, but how they met, I haven't the least idea. In 1896 and 1897, Fred was just a lazy music director who did an awful lot of lying around, but got a hell of a lot work done somehow. Spencer was a man hard at work in Columbia's studio, where you couldn't keep him away from the horns, as he was going at over four hundred rounds a week for two songs. When Spencer met Fred(however he did!), he must not have had much hope in him to be able to take on the amount of rounds he did in a week. How those boys at Columbia were wrong. As much as Fred hated the amount of work, and as much as it was wearing him away, he was the damn best pianist Columbia ever employed in the acoustic era. Just Like Banta, Hylands had to work his tail off every day in the studio, and with the added edition of exhibitions(prior to 1901), he had to be up late, sweating himself senseless in the semi-formal attire, and almost passing out after the crowds left by midnight. 
Len and Fred were a perfect match, and their musical minds came together to create the best examples of early Rag-Time there are.Whatever it was that brought them together first, it was that something that made their records together work so perfectly and evenly. 

Another duo I wonder about is these two:
Vain Vess Ossman
and freakish Frank Banta(from my art)

Ossman met Banta in 1892 or 1893, and he must have been impressed by the 22 year-old professor and intermediate band leader. Young Banta was a local musician and one who could take on anything that was needed from any artist in the area. Ossman must have been captivated by Banta's winning ways , his piano playing, and especially his perfect pitch. He was willing to play anything that Vess threw at him, and half the time Banta didn't need any sheet music, he just needed to know the key and he would be fine. Ossman and Banta pretty much had the same musical mindset(like Hylands and Spencer!). Banta and Ossman(ha! switched the names around for Banta's benefit!) seemed perfect for one another, which they were really, but Ossman being too bright for his own good couldn't focus on one stage partner for more than 5 years, so by 1898, great big Freddy Hylands had Vess taken, almost ending the partnership altogether, to the point of there it was only occasional that Banta saw Ossman on the stage. He left the extremely gifted Banta in the dust pretty much, until he died in 1903 in fact, but he still had ties with him anyhow, and I'm sure he(along with supposedly just under a thousand people) attended Banta's funeral. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Friday, July 24, 2015

George Graham and his studio drinking

The rugged monologuist George Graham was a fascinating and mysterious character of the early Gramophone and phonograph. The studio engineers never dared to ask him about his life, and his drunkenness kept him from a straight mind and means. So in that, he wouldn't tell them anything anyway! It's slightly unfortunate, as Graham was a reasonably handsome guy who had a voice that had that something that keeps one wanting to hear him more. He had a very Romantic Era look to him, with that queer hairstyle of his, long bent nose, and Dan W. Quinn-looking mouth. He must have been a delightful picturesque character in profile, as I sketched him so here:
Very dashing indeed! 

But that's the only thing that's good about him, from the information that has been uncovered about him. All the boys at Berliner and Victor remembered Graham as a terrible drunkard, but a man with a perfectly unexpected voice. He would come in a little drunk most of the time, but then after a little time before the horns, they would have to drag in his stand. Graham to me sounds like he's wasted on almost all of his records. But there are a few exceptions, such as his "Street Fakir"(on Berliner) from 1896 and his untitled monologue from the "Evening With the Minstrels" series of 1903. I'm sure there are more that sound like he's reasonably sober, but those records by him are hard to come-by. I have only heard a handful of his records, and I really want to hear more of them. As I know collectors who have dozens of them. I love that when you listen to Graham, you can easily tell that he's holding the sheet of paper with the handwritten monologue on it and that he's reading off of it, most of the time. This is why he pauses so often and there's an awful lot of awkward silence on his records. I oftentimes ponder with other collectors upon why the record companies kept him for so long, as he would seem like the perfect artist destined for disaster in the studio. It must have been his comedic means and voice that attracted the talent scouts. The managers and engineers often said that their couldn't tell the differences between the artists when they were drunk or sober, but that is almost certainly not true. It's something that can be spotted easily in the way the artists pronounced the words of the songs or if they did at all. I have the feeling that the staff workers who dealt with the artists just didn't give a rap whether they were drunk or not, as long as they made records and got work done. Hell! They could have been carrying a bottle snuff around with them in their coat pocket and the engineers still wouldn't care!(haha! like Fred Hylands probably!)
We as record geeks can only guess what these eccentric artists did while the managers had their backs turned on them. Some were more risky than other's I'm sure. Some one like Len Spencer would be at the top of my risky guesses. I know the man was wild and his surviving friends said so(thank you Dan Quinn, Ada Jones, and Russell Hunting!). Other than Russell Hunting pretty much taking the prize for risky with his big cylinder bust of 1896 that is. Graham just did what he did, and what he was best at was speaking loud and drinking himself sick. The staff at Berliner and Victor couldn't change his ways, even if they might have formulated plans, they wouldn't want to bother him, as I'm sure he got snappy when he was loaded(as can be hinted at on his records). I would love to hear more about him and learn his story, where he came from, what he did before being an eccentric Washington Street fakir, and how long he lived(even though I'm thinking he didn't live to be over 55). Even with hopes for more information on him, it may never come upon us record geeks, only because the engineers and staff wouldn't dare to bother him when he was wasted, which was most of the time in the studio. If only the man spoke well...

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Thursday, July 23, 2015

More Banta rarities

(from my own art)
We all know him and we love him, Frank P. Banta.
I have really been digging through the Frank P. Banta accompaniments on the Edison cylinders to-day and yesterday. In doing this, I have found some really interesting and fun ones, and not all of them are Ragged! 
The first rarity I must share is this great one by Arthur Collins:
This cylinder was recorded not long before Banta met his premature end in November 1903. How Banta makes the piano sounds like chiming bells!
It's a very interesting piece, that has some very pretty and mournful voicings, even if the cylinder is slightly messy, Banta comes through like a bell. Just a beautiful rendition.
This next one is also by Collins and Banta, but it's a little bit older than the last one, and it's fully Ragged! Banta's all secretly boozed like he would be and was anxious and still accurate as an arrow. 
Here you go, from 1901:
That Rag-Time is just wonderful Banta! It's truly great if you try to pull the accompaniment apart, because sometimes, Banta could be more rough and tattered than Hylands. 
Now this next one also has Collins, but also his first vocal partner Joseph Natus:
(The picture came from a piece of sheet music by the way)
Now this 1902 Collins and Natus cylinder is very fun because Banta just tops off the comedy and great lyrics with his jumpy and playful style.
 Here you go:
Such a perfect correspondence between Collins and Natus with Frank P. Banta! 
Collins should have treated Natus better than he did. When Collins left him in late-1902 for Byron G. Harlan, Natus still got some records in for the next two years or so, but then he just faded away from the public, until he completely was forgotten by 1907. From there, he moved out of sight to a small town in northern New York where he worked at an obscure hotel as a clerk there. He lived there until 1917 where he died forgotten, and not a single person recognized Hoyt's old "Black Sheep" of 1893 and Arthur Collins' recording partner Joe Natus. This came about all because of Collins just leaving him behind and not willing to ever work with him again. 
Anyhow, back to the records, this next one is a good cornet solo by the great Bohumir Kryl(of Bohemia!)
(love this caricature so much!)
This one is not Ragged whatsoever, but it is a very good one to hear all the same, as Banta always tops off a good record with his accompaniment.
Here it is, from 1902:
Interestingly enough, Banta recorded this exact same tune with Herbert Clarke on a Victor from 1901, and the accompaniment is, well, the same! I would love to set the link here, but this computer will not allow it, so I will have to skip out on that. Damn this computer! That was a good record!
So onto the next one, which is a Victor where the first Victor house band is playing Banta's most popular composition from 1899, "Ragged William" which is a Rag-Time take on the famous "William Tell Overture"
Here you go, with two different takes! 
The funniest thing about the sheet music fir "Ragged William" is that right under the title it says, "With apologies to Rossini"! 
Oh Frank, what a great musical sense of humor...

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Mysteries of Leeds and other records

This evening, I have been listening to quite a lot of Leeds records. In doing this, I have found some with familiar tempo changes and styles within their band and regular piano accompaniment. It sounds an awful lot like someone I have heard before...
Freddy Hylands! 
That got me wondering, as I heard one Leeds record, then I started going through all the ones I can hear on the websites with all of these great old records. A few of them were Arthur Collins and Billy Murray records, so that got me all over the different record companies with piano accompaniment.
Other than the Leeds records, I came across this fascinating Victor from 1903:
https://ia600303.us.archive.org/35/items/BillyMurray_part5/BillyMurray-UpInaCocoanutTree_3.mp3
The thing that got me on this one is the accompaniment's style and feel, hmm...
Sounds pretty much identical to this Columbia record here by J. W. Myers:
https://ia601507.us.archive.org/27/items/JWMyers/JWMyers-UpinaCocoanutTree.mp3
Identical accompaniments, a little suspicious. Now this is what I mean about Hylands and Banta alternating the piano chair at Victor. The accompaniments on these two records have the same feel and Ragged touch. The Ragged touch of Fred Hylands that is. Banta was in the Metropolitan orchestra at Victor always when they recorded, but Hylands came in sometimes when Banta was out for the day, but then sometimes Hylands had some Columbia duties to attend to as well, so he would skip out on the Victor boys sometimes for C. H. H. Booth to then take over for the rest of the day. Yes, they would change pianists in the middle of the recording days sometimes. 
So, now onto the Leeds records I was talking about. These first few are by Arthur Collins all from 1903 coincidentally. Now these aren't solely piano accompanied records, but the piano is INTENSELY loud! So in that, it's easy to hear.
So here you go with the first one:
https://ia902300.us.archive.org/31/items/ArthurCollins_part2/ArthurCollins-TheGooGooManCoonSong.mp3
It's pretty short, but listen to that perfect tempo for the interlude at the first 18 seconds! It's the perfect tempo for a Rag of its time! So jumpy and strong! 
That's Hylands alright. 
This next one is also Collins with the "Leeds orchestra" fro 1903:
https://ia700407.us.archive.org/17/items/ArthurCollins_part1/ArthurCollins-RobinsonCrusoesIsle.mp3
This is a fascinating record. The tango tempo, the piano, and the terrible quality of the record, which was a problem with Leeds records. Leeds records were original masters, but they were pretty terrible sounding ones. 
I'm convinced that Hylands worked for the shady company of Leeds and Catlin. 
Especially after hearing this one here(also by Collins):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIYitsz8glA
This one is as good Leeds records get! 
These next few are by Vess Ossman:
And they are still Leeds records, but released on the "Nassau" label in that time when Leeds was getting into some nasty legal disputes. 
here you go with what I'm sure is Fred Hylands behind Vess Ossman:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ds15qumwnrs
Too many things in the accompaniment sound like Hylands for it to be anyone else. 
Now for this one recorded around the same time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLBzkiFXFhU
What a great title! "The Sousa Swing", that's just one of the best titles ever! 
These were recorded in 1905 or 1906, but that doesn't mean that Ossman didn't still drag in old Fred Hylands, as Banta had been dead for a few years by then. 
Now this last one REALLY  gets me to lean more toward Hylands on the piano, by how laid-back and steady the tempo is and almost being a little behind the banjo, it's perfect! Even if Hylands would be the tender age of 34 when he recorded this...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EATYW-fMXmU
Well, Leeds has always been a mysterious company, but their piano accompaniment was always wonderful, even if the records themselves sounded terrible. The beautiful and valuable gold foil label can be misleading. 

I hope you enjoyed this!

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Columbia's pianists

We all know of Columbia's "Star pianist" Fred Hylands, who had his grueling term in Columbia's piano chair from 1897 to 1905.
Seen here:
(from my own art)
He was a funky fellow in a multitude of ways really. It's hard to fully describe his dynamic personality and creative means. As I have said many times before, he has been largely forgotten to many record collectors I know, and to many in general.  Other than Hylands, there were two other pianists who came before him at Columbia. The first house pianist at Columbia was Fred Gaisberg:
(also from my art)
Why did they had two Fred's? I haven't the least idea. 
Gaisberg was hired for Columbia back in 1890. When any records were made in 1889 and 1890 before Gaisberg, the artists had to play their own piano accompaniment, as was described by the managers at Columbia who saw Len Spencer make his first records back in 1889. When they found Gaisberg, he was a fresh 17-year-old piano prodigy who had hovered around Sousa for years in the 80's and was anxious for a real job. 
How it was a real job working at Columbia. He became a part of their staff at the time of rounds, and also when some artists would invite the house pianists to their homes to make the records there, rather than in the studio. One great example of this was John Yorke Atlee who was the first to really work the hell out of Gaisberg. Almost every weekday, Gaisberg would venture off to Atlee's house in the city of Washington where Atlee would be waiting for him anxiously after working at the treasury department. Atlee really got a kick out of recording these whistling records at his home, so he wouldn't let Gaisberg leave, even when he was absolutely worn out and wanting to go on home. He would get there at about 8 in the eveing, and Atlee wouldn't let him go until well after midnight. And he did this four to five times a week! 
That was only back in 1893 and early 1894 however. After that, Gaisberg was stuck in the actual studio. But around this time in 1894, he was starting to get involved with another Washington based company, Berliner. He was also Berliner's first house pianist. This job at Berliner forced him to devote less of his time to Columbia, but he can still be heard on Columbia's in 1894, 1895 and even 1896. In 1896, there was a bunch of personnel and staff changes at Columbia however. 
At this time, piccolo and Violinist George Schweinfest was holding the piano chair as Gaisberg was not being seen nearly as often at Columbia. 
Schweinfest(seen below at the piano):
That's Columbia's piano anyhow! 
He didn't remain their pianist for very long, compared to the other pianists they had there. He was the one who filled the gap between Gaisberg and Hylands. Schweinfest had already worked there for at least five years as a piccolo player in their band and in Issler's parlor orchestra, since he played piano reasonably well, and he could sight read the music, he seemed perfect for the job. His praise didn't last too long though. Then came Hylands. Or Fred number 2. 
This "second Fred" was nothing like their first one. He looked nothing like Fred no. 1 and his style was almost completely different. Hylands beat the piano, whereas Gaisberg tickled it. Hylands near broke his fingers, whereas Gaisberg twitched his fingers stylishly. It's funny to think of it that way, but that's the truth. Hylands was the last house pianist that Columbia had, as he came in at the tail-end of the "round" era. He didn't really understand what Len Spencer and Schweinfest had to go through for years. It's actually better that way, because that would have certainly killed him, or he would have lived only as long as Banta(if he had been at Columbia around the time that Gaisberg was there). He couldn't have handled the full-on "round" era(like in 1894 and 1895). 
Well, that's about all I have this evening. I just played at a local San Francisco Cafe and I am absolutely exhausted now. So to close off, here is a cylinder I've been trying to decipher for the past two hours by John Yorke Atlee and Hylands in 1898:
(the music starts at 1:50, the guy just talks at the beginning)
I wish I could hear it better, and I wish it was played a little bit slower. 
Anyhow, enjoy what you can hear. 
(sigh)... I want to hear the piano better...

I hope you enjoyed this! 


Monday, July 20, 2015

Alternate takes and rounds

We're all aware of how records were made in the 1890's, and that various techniques changed as the decade went on. The notorious "round" was what ruled the 1890's recording studios however. The rounds were a terribly long and harsh way to make records, but the good thing about rounds is that no two cylinders from the round era(prior to 1897 and 1898)sound exactly the same. This is only because of the hundreds of rounds all being done one at a time and it's almost certain that no two brown wax cylinders from the same round exist. The other ones from the same round would sounds different anyway because the horns all pointed the same direction, but at a differing angle, therefore creating a very slightly varying sound. 
I have a special love for alternate takes of brown wax cylinders, only because they're everywhere in brown wax cylinder collections, and they are the same song but done differently, with very slight differences between two others. Each brown wax cylinder is different in its own way. That's why they always remain interesting.
Other than the hundreds of rounds the singers did prior to 1900, some takes of the same song done in different rounds on the same day were numbered differently for some reason. When Columbia did this, it got really confusing. A good example of this is John Yorke Atlee's "Anvil Chrous" from 1898 with Fred Hylands on piano behind him. Here is the louder and clearer take:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/9000/9836/cusb-cyl9836d.mp3
This round or "take"was numbered in Columbia's catalog as no. 12606.
Hylands is much better that usual this one, but like always with him, there are a few hiccups on the octaves toward the end, but it's still Hylands, and the little mistakes keep his playing interesting. 
This next take is VERY close in sound to the last one, except for the fact that it was a different "round".
(make sure you click on the "real" symbol to get the music started up!)
http://www.tinfoil.com/cm-1108.htm
This one, as you can see on the page is numbered no.13509, but it was exactly the same as the other one, minus a few little things(ehm! Hylands' playing!). Thank goodness for Hylands' constantly varying playing, where he would never play something exactly the same twice. That always helped. I'm sure it helped the artists keep up for a while(well...until Hylands got too drunk that is...). 

This next alternate take example is a fun one by the great Will F. Denny:
Denny must have had the best collection of facial expressions ever. I can always imagine his expressions when I hear his  wonderfully raucous(but slightly classy) comic songs. 
Anyhow, here's the first one with Hylands playing the song very straight and not going off and doing whatever he pleases:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/14000/14244/cusb-cyl14244d.mp3
This one was numbered Columbia 6304, and it is actually identified as a Columbia record. 
This next one is much more up-beat and interesting. It's more like Denny, and it's more like Hylands. The only problem is that Denny does not identify a record company in the announcement. But there's not a doubt in my mind that it's just another round of the last one. It's a Columbia no doubt. Thanks to Hylands doing what he did best at the end! 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/14000/14259/cusb-cyl14259d.mp3
I just cannot get over the Rag-Time at the end!
This take was much less to the likeness of Denny's first 1893 version of this song. In the other one, Denny tries to replicate the 1893 version he recorded for the New England phonograph company, but the one with Hylands is very different indeed.

"Thanks Freddy!"
(as I'm sure they would turn around and say occasionally)

This next one I used quite a while back on this blog, but I thought I should bring it back on the subject of alternate takes, as it fits in the category perfectly. 
This one is by the only black recording star Columbia had in the 1890's(unfortunately!), George W. Johnson:
It's kind of a tragic life he lived, and so much of it happened later in his life. 
Those boys at Columbia and Edison should have treated him better. I'm not the least bit surprised though, they were typical people of their day, and raised in the time just during and after the Civil war. 
Anyhow, this cylinder was recorded in 1898, when demand for Johnson's records were at their highest, with fred Hylands playing Rag-Time throughout the ENTIRE cylinder!
https://ia902606.us.archive.org/24/items/nobodyKnowsTheUploadIveSeen/01TheLaughingSong.mp3
I love this take, personally, because Hylands' Ragged time really makes it perfect. You can tell that he and Hylands were having a reasonably good time by this round. Again, this cylinder is another piece of evidence for me to think that Hylands may have been a lefty. I mean, really! Listen to the scattered right hand compared to the spot on and steady left hand octaves and chords! It's really interesting. That is how you play a cakewalk!
Now this other take is also with Hylands' accompaniment, but he only makes it Ragged at the end of the cylinder. This is a take that more people have heard:
https://ia802307.us.archive.org/20/items/GeorgeWJohnson/GeorgeWJohnson-TheLaughingSongCoonSong.mp3
This take is more commonly used in things representing the 1890's, I don't know why, but it is. How Hylands is drunk! OH! Just listen to his broken and scattered playing here! This is exactly what I'm talking about. 
Other than that, the differences of the two takes by Johnson is really great and can be heard even by a newer collector, it's not like some very slight ones where it's only the faint accompaniment that's different. 
Alright, this last one is a great rarity by Dan W. Quinn:
We know him and we love him! 
This one is not a brown wax cylinder, and it was recorded after the brown wax era ended and the easier way to make records had been invented(without the whole "round" spiel).
 On this one, the takes are actually numbered! 
Here is take 2:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/4000/4719/cusb-cyl4719d.mp3
The speed is a little shaky, sorry.
Here is take 5(which is significantly different):
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/8000/8230/cusb-cyl8230d.mp3
Hylands hitting a few wrong notes...
(it's slightly painful).
What's interesting about late brown wax and black wax Columbia's is that they actually etched the take number onto the cylinder, just below the rim. I have a Quinn Columbia black wax of "Rip Van Winkle was a Lucky Man" from 1902 and when looking at it, it's a little smaller than ad standard Edison record. But if you hold it close, you can notice the take number etched onto it. The take on that one says "31726-6". The "-6" on the cylinder indicates the take, and it's really good that Columbia did this in the late-brown wax and early black wax era, because the take number oftentimes revealed who the singer was on the cylinder. 

Now for the final part of this post, I would like to showcase a fun two cylinders recorded on the same very day in mid-1902. They are both by Arthur Collins:
and of course, with the Ragged accompaniment of Fred Hylands! 
Here you go, with the first one, which is actually a rarity for Collins, it is actually a sentimental song, and he only recorded less than a handful of them throughout his long career, here you go:
https://ia700407.us.archive.org/17/items/ArthurCollins_part1/ArthurCollins-MoonMoonCoonSong.mp3
It's a little wavy. But still a good one! 
Oh Hylands, playing all pretty, what a concept.
Here's the other one, where it's much more Ragged and hot:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/8000/8236/cusb-cyl8236d.mp3
"Oh Freddy!"
Here's an alternate take of this! 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQzljNXU5NI
Very slight differences! 
It's all Hylands' creativity.

I hope you enjoyed this!