Character Studies--George Graham(c.1862-?)

Ahh yes, George Graham, the fascinating unknown character of the 1890's recording studio. He was a very mysterious character, who no one in the studios knew about, and never dared to ask about. They found him too funny, therefore, didn't bother to get any information out of him. He made records in bunches from 1896 to 1903, and when I say that I mean that he came not too often to the studios, but when he did, he always had half a dozen or so of new monologues. He was always a real riot in the studio, sometimes making the engineers laugh so often that they had to re-do the take. Graham's origins are completely unknown, except for the fact that he worked in medicine troupes in the early 1890's. That is really what is known about him prior to his recording career, and the specifics of these troupes are not even known.  I am certain that he came from the Mid-west, which state, I have no idea. It might be Indiana, but then it might be something like Wisconsin. That is unknown, but by studying his dialect and pronunciations of certain words and syllables, he is certainly from a similar area to Fred Hylands. Why Hylands? Well, the few times that I have heard Hylands speak, he had the same sort of dialect, with dropping of the same letters and tones. Graham also sounded a little like Byron Harlan, who hailed from rural Kansas. Hylands also had the same sort of raspy flair that Graham was so famous for on his records. You can hear Hylands at the end of this brown wax cylinder here. Hear it? Yep, I certainly do, even if Hylands was probably a little tipsy by then, you can still pinpoint it easily. 

Graham was the most entertaining monologist that the earliest record companies had on their staff. He would come in to Berliner stumbling many times, but other times he would end up that way. The studio engineers would have to set up the small stand they made for him, which would also be a big production, as getting him to stay put was sometimes more difficult than it would seem. He would drink like mad, having a full bottle of something when he came in, and it would be all gone by the end of his day in the studio. Sometimes, well most of the time that is, the engineers and other Berliner staff members would seriously worry about him getting home after the days in the studio. Who knows what could have happened to him after he left that studio door. He must have showed up on those few days where he was completely sober, broken up by a "slash" or fight from the night before. The few times that he wouldn't drink were days where he was recovering from a terrible hangover. Those days were fascinating to behold, as he was a very quick-minded and bright man, a side of him that was unexpected in so many ways. He was one who really changed his means after he drank, but some think he had a darker side to him. Maybe he was a wife-beater? He certainly was vocal about his conservative expectations about women on his records, and this can possibly indicate something as cruel and barbaric as the latter notion. Something was harsh about him, deep in his personal life, something wasn't right. His raspy and rough voice certainly was that of a man with a conscious demeanor that was amiable and fun, but his unconscious means must have been something very different. He was a genuinely funny man, with great puns that sometimes seemed to the level of crudeness of Russell Hunting. He learned the minstrel business from Len Spencer not long after he started working at Columbia in the late-1890's, which changed his direction a little bit, as he was just wanting to be a straight comedic monologist, but the minstrel twang and character suited him well somehow. He loved the dialect, even if he wasn't the best at vocally illustrating the caricature itself. The odd thing is that the Columbia staff kept away his drinks, and kept them in very modest amounts, so on all the few Columbia's he made, he was his bright and clear self. The Berliner and Victor people let him have it. They found it just amusing, and didn't mind how much of a pain it was to control him, and how many takes they would have to do in order to get a decent one. Big boss Len Spencer didn't want Graham at his drinks to the fullest, which is odd considering the conditions under which Fred Hylands wasn't monitored, by Spencer, and anyone for that matter. Graham then transferred over to the Victor company(like most late-Berliner artists did) in 1900, and was a regular around there, able to drink freely at the delight of the engineers and other staff members present. He made fifty or so fantastic and hilarious Victor records and then vanished. Not a soul knew what happened to him. He was never to be seen on records again, and somehow it seemed like he didn't exist after 1903. At least when many of his colleagues of the late-1890's disappeared, it is known where they went or if they died. With Graham, no one knows. He might have died, or maybe he lived a few more years? It is a great mystery that perhaps may never be known. He vanished from the recording scene like many of the recording fiends of the 1890's did, but where he went is unknown. 

Anyhow, to close off here is one of the three or so issued Columbia's he made under the obliging of Len Spencer from 1903:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder4703
And NO! Len spencer is NOT  the speaker here, I am 100% sure that the voice heard here is that of George Graham. 

I hope you enjoyed this!