Piecing together Justin Ring

As with any of these new characters I research, it can be a very difficult start. It has actually been not too difficult to find information on Eddie King, but somehow Justin Ring seems to be the opposite. 

As long as this foxy guy lived, there's little information to dig  through on him. He's mentioned all over the place in newspapers and trade magazines, but there's not much substance to the places he's found. Unlike with Hager, where Ring's mentioned, he's only, well...mentioned. There's not much more. As I have become ever more attracted to Ring's music and lifestyle, finding any vital information on him has become a great source of frustration for me. I just can't seem to track him during the most essential period of time that I'm trying to dig on. 

He's easy to track after 1910 or so, but as you readers would know, I'm trying to piece together his lifestyle while he was at Zon-O-Phone. I have found next to nothing on my searches for Ring before 1910. All of the things I've found on him pre-1910 were solely regarding the pieces of his that were recorded or published by Hager. 

Well that's all great, but I want to know about how he lived outside of the studio. Since I have't been able to trace him in any local New York directories or censuses, I would guess that he lived in a basement or a loft of a publisher. This is the situation as to why George W. Johnson can't be found in many public records. I also have a feeling that this applies to why I have not been able to find Len Spencer in the 1900 census. 

As I'm writing this, I did a little bit of digging for Ring in copyright records, just to see how far back I can track him. The first things start to appear with his long poetic name starting in 1902, which is quite late from what I had expected. The first few things I saw however were very interesting. One of the first things I saw was a piece that was composed by Ring(Ringleben in this case) with lyrics by Cal Stewart. Yes indeed, you heard me right. Good old Uncle Josh. 

Cal Stewart not in his Uncle Josh rags. 

What's ever more interesting about these two first pieces I found with Ring's name on them is that they were published by Hager and Ring. The two of them were publishers for a short time! How interesting. While this is not at all surprising, it does add some kind of added layer of curiosity in the beginning of their nearly 50 year long relationship. Hager did not stay a publisher with Ring for long, as I quickly observed on this copyright record dig. But Ring stayed put as a publisher for a little longer. His vanity firm lasted until about the end of 1904, publishing a few things here and there, such as Hager's "Handsome Harry" and his own "Jovial Joe". 

Another interesting observation on this dig was how Ring kept his long poetic name until quite late. I assumed that he took the short version of his name Justin Ring, almost as soon as he joined Hager at Zon-O-phone. On the contrary, Ring kept the Justus Ringleben Jr on his music until 1905. Only by the time he wrote "Sweet Potatoes" in 1906 do we see slight edits to his name. Even at that point his name is seen as Justin Ringleben on the cover, which isn't too different from the previous covers. It's interesting that it took a little bit of evolution for Justus Ringleben Jr to become Justin Ring. I would guess that Hager was insistent on Ring getting his name a bit more snappy on the music, as he seemed constant with the idea of using his full name on their sheets. 

So, aside from all that, my biggest question is, what was Ring doing when he got scooped up by Columbia and Zon-O-phone? Well, since I can't seem to track him at all before 1902, he must have literally lived the life of a young and hot rambler. You know how the song goes, O, didn't he ramble. 

I'll have a conveniently dated Columbia by Collins and Harlan illustrate my point here:

(the pianist is good old Hylands!)

https://archive.org/details/78_oh-didnt-he-ramble_gbia0075013a

There we go! well, kind of. 

I'd hate to assume that Ring entirely lived that lifestyle, as he lived to be an old man(older than Hager), but it seems the most logical thing to say in considering his freedom and little guidance in life. 

Consider what I know so far about Ring other than the recording stuff. His father was quite old(like Banta's father!), born in Prussia in 1826. His father married a woman half his age in his middle age, having his first son Justin(or Justus) at age 50. Justin's siblings were born later, brother Franz in 1878, and half sister Rose born in 1880. Justin's odd father was a musician, a struggling one it seems from what I gathered from the single census and a few directories I found. So from all of this, I can see Justin and Franz having little supervision. Despite the limited supervision, the boys grew up around music, so naturally at least one of them would become the musician to follow their father. This was naturally Justin, who had his father's name after all. 

That whole story seems intriguing as it is. But there's this huge gap that I'm trying to fill. From about 1890 to 1902, I have no idea what Justin was up to. Maybe he went to music school? Maybe he lived as a rambler until Hager pulled him out of that life and into the studio. So who knows?

While I was digging around, I also went back and looked at that large group picture of Hager's orchestra just because I often do. I noticed something interesting while staring at that picture again. 

I zoomed in to where Justin Ring is of course, seeing if I can notice anything new about him or that interesting crowd right around him. 

Something seemed off when I darkened the picture.

Is that a bruise I see? 

What could that mean? The guy already looks rough, with those sunken tired eyes and thin face. Luckily he could still out-dandy the others with his wild cravat and blond hair. 

But again, what could this mean? Maybe I'm missing something that's more obvious than previously thought. Perhaps something really disturbing regarding him. Well, at this point I have no idea what it could be, and I have no guesses yet. I wish I had some of my signature crazy theories to explain here, but I'd rather not considering the possibilities in this case. Sometime soon I might figure out some ideas of what to say regarding this, but I'll have to judge whether they would be appropriate to share. 

So anyway...I actually would like to revert back to my post a month or so ago regarding Justin Ring's employment for multiple record companies. So I went back and did some staring at that Columbia band(or orchestra) picture from around 1902, just to be assured that that one young guy is Justin Ring. 

The more I look at it, the more I think it's Justin Ring. 

Just today, I went back and listened to more than a dozen Columbia orchestra records, to see what i could decipher of the piano accompaniment. I paired these Columbias from 1902-1905 with Zon-O-Phone's from 1901-1906, and there's definitely some crossover. Not only did I hear the distinct pushy syncopation of Ring in the accompaniment, I could also hear some familiar bad violin playing. By bad violin playing, I mean that of Hager. Three good examples I plowed through today were these: 

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder10947

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder6805

https://ia601406.us.archive.org/25/items/EdwardMFavor/EdwardMFavor-WhistlingReilly.mp3

These three stuck out because the piano is quite prominent, and especially on the last one, the violin comes through somewhat. The Columbia orchestra varied in overall musical quality during this short period, and I am still unsure why. Sometimes they were outstanding, other times they were a mess like the third record listed above. 

Before i say any more, here's my favorite line from that song:

"He's gifted with a whistle that is bound to give him pains, in fact he's like an injun on cocaine"

Quite funny still. I recall years ago using this record as an example for something else thinking it was funny then just as I do now. 

So I listened to a bunch more, In fact, I compared these two records back to back and noticed some striking similarities: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCGNmS7NUAU

(notice how the trio is quite swung and improvised, I would bet money that's the doing of Ring. And yes this is the only recording of dozens I've heard where it was played like that. It's quite ragged actually.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aLah2LkoME

and of course Justin Ring's cake-walk masterpiece that all the studio orchestras recorded. 

So the more of these Columbias I listen to from the post-Hylands period, the more I believe that Justin Ring worked for Columbia and Zon-O-Phone at the same time. It also seems possible that Ring may have been part of the reason that the Columbia orchestra and band recorded so many pieces of classic rag-time in that period(1902-1906). It's curious to note that this also happened at Zon-O-phone in this period(before Eddie King and Ring basically took over Zono in 1909). I mean, doesn't it seem odd that the Columbia orchestra recorded "harmony mose", "peaceful henry", and "Whoa You heiffer"(A hot New Orleans rag published in 1904) between 1902 and 1906? And after that, Prince only took on more basic pieces of rag-time, like "tempation rag" and "Silver bell". 

Similarly, but not surprisingly at Zon-O-phone Hager and Ring recorded pieces like "Cottonfield capers", "The gondolier", "a black bawl"(a chicago slow drag rag by Harry Thompson. Take a listen here!), and "Policy Pete"(a hot cake-walk ). 

So with all this in mind, there's no way that Ring couldn't have been partially the reason for all this really outstanding rag-time. 

Took this picture while at UCSB. This record is some really nice hot rag-time I tell you what! Played at the right slow speed, it's rendered at a perfect cake-walk tempo. 

So I'll have to look more into Ring's actual influence over the influx of classic rag-time at Columbia and Zon-O-Phone(and later edison mind you, they recorded Panama rag! Hear the Edison rendition of it here!) 

I guess I'll leave it here. I need to get another post in by the end of the week, because it's a certain someone's birthday. 

Anyway, hopefully I'll soon find more on Justin Ring, last night was another one of a dozen or so attempts to find him in early census records on ancestry. 

Not much luck, but I am not deterred! I am determined. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Harding's publishing and Making good for Screw-overs

This evening, I stumbled across a fantastic article on Roger Harding, from the only collector who was an expert on him. Even Jim Walsh didn't know much about Harding, no matter how far he dug into the people who knew him. Unfortunately, this collector who wrote about Harding is now deceased as one of my friends told me a while back. This is also the case with a collector who possessed the best collection of Len Spencer recordings and odds and ends there ever was, and now the collection is split up unfortunately, with much of it ending up at the LOC. 

Harding is among my favourites of these early recording stars, other than Len Spencer, Fred Hylands, Vess Ossman, etc. So it wasn't all that surprising to see that I was mesmerized by this article, and completely hooked immediately upon seeing the article. The article was very well-written, and was full of not often read information on Harding. If you would like to read it yourself, here's the article in the link below:

https://archive.org/stream/NAG65/NAG%2065#page/n1/mode/2up

Enjoy! 

The good thing that was detailed in the article in the link above is Harding's publishing endeavors, which began with his relation with Hylands and Steve Porter. Of course, we know very well that the whole "Knickerbocker" went though Hylands' ear and straight out the other. We know how that went. This must have made Roger a little disillusioned, and disappointed in Fred, with the trust he'd thrown him for this to actually happen, then it didn't. But of course, that didn't end anything with them, because the one rule that Columbia's studio seemed to have just as a mutual thing was that no grudges could be held between any staff members.
 Why? 
Well think about it, Hylands had "screwed over" many of the Columbia staff, even his bestest of friends like Harry Yeager and Len Spencer, which left them all frustrated with one another, however, they couldn't be for very long, because they all still had to make records, with no regards to the "baggage" that they had. This was so even later in time, such as when Collins and Harlan were first working together, because they disagreed rather often, probably more than most people have documented in fact. this happened all the time, Columbia talent disagreed, in fact, during the Johnson Murder trial, this was probably amplified by everyone's differing beliefs and opinions, despite them all siding with the defense(of course they did, because they had to). The point to this moral "rule" is that they all had to come back to work the next day and make records, no arguments or divas allowed. 

Luckily for Harding, he was a logical and optimistic man, wise to all of this, and never cause any fights amongst his fellow employees. He didn't hold a grudge against Hylands, because of the need for more recordings, but also because Hylands made good with him by writing some music for and with him. 
It's this kissing up to him that we get pieces like this one:

Ah yes, more of that infamous Hylands Spencer and Yeager music. 

Before I get into the strangeness of Mrs. Cal Stewart being on the cover, I must continue on Harding. 

Harding's relationship with Hylands didn't end with the Knickerbocker failure, despite what the article stated, as the pieces of music Hylands published with Harding continued:

Without a doubt Harding was still on the periphery of the publishing endeavor, because Hylands kept pulling his leg to publish more music of his:

Hey! It's Gaskin!

But of course, like anything like this, it really shocked me to see Harding AND Porter's names on music for composer credit, and the fact that the authorship looks reversed from our typical knowledge of Porter and Harding. Hylands really wanted to keep their trio together, even if the whole Knickerbocker thing blew to bits. Hmm, wonder why that is? The piece of music just above really says for it, because that's a later publication of Hylands', perhaps later 1899 rather than earlier(my piece in full colour above is a few months older, because of the two other publishing outpost location addresses not being present.) As Much as Spencer probably disliked Hylands for the amount of thing he pulled, there was not a way that they could split, Spencer dedicated himself to the firm, and he had created that gorgeous footer, so whenever he was questioning his commitment to Fred, it was just violently shushed by Fred the millisecond he began in on it.

 So... after Harding learned some of the publishing game(from not a very good role model), he began publishing himself since no one would bother to help him otherwise, setting up on the same block as where he worked(Columbia), and simply called it Roger Harding Publishing Company. One example was thus:

Now that's a familiar face! There were scores more on Harding's music, from Gaskin to George Schweinfest. Hylands probably saw this as a threat to his then-fading firm, since it was set up a block away from him, and for the same purpose, by one of his own co-workers. Harding was confident for a short period about this firm, though just like Fred's around the same time, it sunk quicker than the stock could handle all in one. Since Harding didn't see the end of the next year, his music was never sold to larger firms, which makes it even rarer than Hylands Spencer and Yeager music. It's actually a little surprising that Hylands didn't slip out Harding's stock after the firm went under and when be died, because that seems like something he would do, especially since his own firm was in a slow, painful decline. He didn't and the staff mourned Harding's death, much like when Frank Banta died, though this didn't seem as big a deal as Banta's death two years later. 

Now to return back to the "Kitty Clover" music farther above in this post. Now the many recognizable faces on Hylands' music can seem a pleasant surprise to unknowing collectors, and every time I see a new copy of one of those pieces, it gets me all excited. You never know if a famous recording star will be on a Hylands piece, which is why it's great to sift through them. That specific edition of "Kitty Clover" is a strange one, and gets me a little suspicious. One thing to keep in mind with Hylands is that everything he did came with benefits. By this, it is meant that anything he did came with some perk given to the other person or people involved. Take his praising advertisement from The Phonoscope, where he literally invites people over, in exchange for accommodating hospitality. It is because of this that we don't see any scathing reviews of his Broadway shows later, though they existed, regardless of what all of the sources we see state about him. Hylands probably offered each of those performers on his music something, whether it be percentage of the profits, or something else... ... ... 

It can be assumed by some wild theory that Hylands and Harding found Cal Stewart's wife gorgeous(well it didn't help that they were surrounded by other strange looking men all the time at work...). That's not impossible, because she does seem to be rather pretty, and it almost seems out of nowhere for her to be the dedicatee on the music of two men who knew her from the same source. 

I can see Fred's face light up when she came in with Cal one day at Columbia, same with Roger, except that Roger was probably a little less struck than Fred, since he was older, and a little more reserved it would seem. It seems like something that could be attached to Fred's character, or Roger's. 

Hmm, wonder if Cal had any notion? Hope so. 

It seems odd to tie anything like this to Cal Stewart, thinking of him as "Uncle Josh". But really, if you think it over, it's not too unusual, this is Columbia we're speaking of here, none of this would happen at Edison. 

Other than making all the ladies stars on his music, Fred also made up for wrongdoings by publishing artists' music and dedicating music he wrote to them. This went for Len Spencer, Vess Ossman, Harry Yeager, and Dan Quinn. All of those specific names in association to Fred seem a little suspicious. They all seem like artists that got in a tangle with him before he made up for it by publishing music. The only reason I think this is because he ended a few letters with 

I beg to remain yours respectfully,

FRED HYLANDS.

Also that he was thrown out of the White Rats union because he was tangling with other agents and going off doing what he wanted. All of these factors set up a figure who screwed over many fellows. Since this was such an issue with him, without a doubt this was so when he worked for Columbia. Hylands certainly had his reasons for dropping so many names on his music, probably each performer had a story as to why he did this. Even Ada Jones probably had a yarn with him, because she wasn't on just one of his covers. In this case his tale with Ossman would be an interesting one! Who knows what Ossman thought of dealing with Hylands, two musicians full of themselves is never a good thing, and that's exactly what that duo was. This new article was fascinating to read, especially coming at the Hylands Spencer and Yeager endeavor from Harding's point of view, which is very different from anyone else involved. Knowing what Victor Emerson thought of this whole employees as publishers thing would be the most interesting however, because he had nothing to do with it, yet in a way he was managing it, whether he wanted to or not. 

Before I end, I would like to satisfy some of my Hager "kick" recently, with a new record I found a few days ago. This is an early pre-paper label Zon-O-Phone from 1901 by John Terrell. 

Here's his 1901 Zon-O-Phone of "Tain't A'goin to Weep No More":

https://ia600800.us.archive.org/25/items/CollectedWorksOfJohnTerrell/TaintAGoinToWeepNoMore1902_64kb.mp3

Not a big fan of Terrell, but Hager always makes up for it! The Rag-Time is not phenomenal as far as records go with his accompaniment, but it's interesting and Ragged nonetheless. The solo at the end is short, but has a very interesting melodic idea as far as Rag-Time goes. Hager was always an interesting pianist, even if his Ragged time was a little out of whack sometimes; this was certainly not true when he conducted his orchestra. I would go out on a limb and say that Hager's orchestra(and the Zon-O-phone orchestra) were the best house orchestra of the 1900's, they had the best musicians, best arrangements, and the slickest execution of all the house orchestras. And their arrangements weren't easy, they were the most complicated as well. They were arguably just as good as Sousa's and Arthur Pryor's bands. 

We've got to find more about Hager. 

I looked around in my many books on early recording to-day and didn't find too much on Hager, other than his obvious Zon-O-Phone leadership, and his publishing firm with J. Fred Helf in 1907-ish, and that he worked as a bandleader into the 1920's, but that's not really much for a man who died in 1953. There's literally an abyss of information missing on Hager, not just a gap. There's nothing out there on his piano playing, which is the most unfortunate thing, because he would have to be that unknown pianist on Zon-O-phone playing the most oblong, yet interesting Rag-Time style of all the regular studio pianists. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Batten down the hatches  for the storm out here in California! 

analysis of the Johnson Trial, and inspiration from Hylands

The first part of the title seen just above is a subject that remains very dear to my psychological studies of these "show-biz" figures mentioned on this blog. The reason it is not only a great case study for the terms and morals of these performers, but how they operated when a sort of crisis befell them. It was so unexpected that it was expected when it came upon the Columbia staff, as Victor Emerson hadn't really been involved in any of the previous court battles of record companies(save for the fall of the U. S. Phonograph company in 1897, he was part of that somewhat). Emerson was the one who worried the most about this sort of thing, and the first time that Johnson got into trouble in 1898, it put everyone on the edge of the cliff for a brief moment, then when he was released from the courtroom innocent, everything and everyone went back to normal. The amount of trouble Emerson went through to create a fund for Johnson's defense ought to make anyone confused, as it was in this very era that concepts such as the "White-man's burden" became an important social implication in politics and in general knowledge. It remains very strange and backward that they all supported and valued Johnson so highly, seemingly forgetting their ingrained perspectives on race hierarchy. 

Of course, the strange fact that Johnson was convicted of killing a white woman the first time around(in 1898) didn't really effect the Columbia staff as much doesn't match morally(to the time period). The second time around(the murder trial), he was convicted of killing a supposed "mixed" woman, or Creole, as the existing evidence indicates. This would logically not be as important to the entirely white Columbia staff, though it seemed to hit them harder, in some way, that I cannot well understand, even by putting myself in their mindset. Yes, it is clear that the principal motivation for this contradicting support for his defense, would be money an profits, without doubt, that was what made Emerson, Fred Hylands, and Len Spencer scramble to begin this $2,000 fund for Johnson's defense. According to all the available sources, most of the money came from Columbia record exhibitors, as well as Columbia staff members. 

What must be noted here is that Johnson worked for Edison as well when this trial came along, and the Edison staff did nothing as this went by, as there's no way in hell that these companies would join together in this endeavor. They sat back and waited for Columbia's law department to take care of Johnson. 

None of these social implications seemed to matter when it was their only black man at stake. 
Everything was thrown out the window for the Johnson trial: all the disgruntled attitudes from having Johnson there, the previous mistakes he made, inequity from Johnson's race... it all went away until the trial was over and he was acquitted. One thing that I think I mentioned before in my Rollin Wooster post was about how in the years after being Hylands' lawyer and silent publishing partner, he became a Baptist preacher, probably out of the flaming guilt he had about advocating for Hylands, and for anything else sleazy he had done as a lawyer in the 1890's, which we know is quite a lot having stereotypes of lawyers being true. He must have believed his money was going to the wrong place as a lawyer, as it is clear that the man had money to burn before even becoming associated with the publishing firm with Len Spencer. For Hylands' next publishing endeavor of 1902, he must have gone to Wooster once more, asking if he would retake the place of legal advisor, but of course, he refused, then going through his transformation rather from an opportunist lawyer to a Baptist preacher. Rollin probably just scowled at Fred, and refused plainly, as it was obvious why he wouldn't join one of his ventures once more. We know that that publishing firm didn't last nearly as long as the previous one, primarily from his lack of donors and economic benefactors. 

Since everyone at Columbia was so focused on Hylands Spencer and Yeager, someone probably had to give them the news that this had happened, and it set everyone scrambling to come to solutions. Fred threw in some money to the defense fund, and attached Rollin Wooster to the money as one of Columbia's attorneys. It seems that Wooster had nothing to do whatsoever with Columbia before Hylands snatched him out of the Law department that the worked in at the time. Of course, much like the reason that Hylands took in Burt Green, Wooster was not only very smart and well-educated(remember in the last post I did on him, that he was a Yale Law Graduate), but was able to manage capital more effectively than Hylands. 


After reviewing the case for the hundredth time from Tim Brooks' Lost Sounds , Wooster is not mentioned at all as being associated with Fred Hylands and Len Spenccer, though it must be noted in such a strange matter as this. The fact that none of Johnson's fellow recording stars not testifying in the courtroom is of course one of the most suspicious of these factors that went into the presentation of the defense. Someone like Len Spencer could easily have testified, and told a great lie of how Johnson would have never done anything to hurt anyone, even though Johnson probably did nothing wrong to Spencer. 

Like I have said before, I still stand on the idea that Johnson did murder his common-law wife. Regardless of what anyone says about the matter, even the hard evidence of the court transcript won't convince me. 



Anyhow, enough moral talk, time for some music! 
This week one of those prominent record collectors posted a handful of records on Youtube this week, with one in particular that caught my ears. He posted a 1902 Moulded Edison cylinder of "Whistling Rufus" by Dan Quinn with Banta. 

It be about time to mention this great pianist and man once more. 
I was digging around on the Santa Barbara cylinder website a few days ago, and stumbled across two 1898 cylinders by Cal Stewart with Frank Banta. 
The first one is a very different take of George W. Johnson's famous "Laughing Coon", but Stewart took his own spin on it with this. At  the end of the record, there's 20 seconds of Banta playing a very interesting and well-structured solo, here you go:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder15526
Banta's solo at the end is very proper as far as Rag-Time goes, even though it can still be classified as such. The one thing that is really surprising about the quality of this record is how well-recorded the piano was, as well as the tone of the piano. Banta's solos between the chorus and verse is really interesting, though ht misses it the last time around, which is kind of funny, since we're not used to Banta playing such a prominent and clear mistake behind anyone. 

This next one is a similar story, with exactly the same format and sequencing as the last one, with the 20 second solo at the end just like the last one. This is also a Johnson specialty sung by Cal Stewart:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11389
Banta is playing very proper and politely on these two records, even though he's throwing in those raucous fifths that don't seem to go with the very polite playing in the solos, but that's how Banta played. Of course we've heard him play much less so on records like this one here. 

This record I mentioned a little above that this record collector posted on Youtube is a strange version of "Whistling Rufus" by Dan Quinn with Banta, but there's something about the piano playing that kicks up some suspicion in comparison with another version of the same song. 
Here's the newly posted Quinn and Banta version:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01o9D467lc4
The walking octaves. 
That's weird! 
That right there proves that Banta at least heard Hylands play, whether in person or on records, it proves my theory that once Hylands began working at Columbia, the Edison people took notice and forced Banta to listen to the new hot pianist at the competitor company. Just to get this point across further, here's Spencer and Hylands' 1899 version of the same song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5p01PX7a7w(skip to 6 minutes in for the music to start)
Of course, this version is just Hylands doing what he usually did behind Spencer amplified and added onto, with all the walking octaves a Rag-time pianist could handle. This version still remains one of the best Hylands Rag-Time examples out there, though I have heard better, but I cannot share the links on here. The best examples of course of Hylands playing Rag-Time is all on records with Spencer(go figure...), and my still relatively new acquisition of "On Emancipation Day" by them is no exception. All of these notions are things that I must take notes of in my Hylands seminar in November, since he is making to be more of an inspiration to other pianists than previously thought. 


To take this inspiration to another level, the great and hilarious black Vaudevillian Pete Hampton worked for Edison Bell and Nicole records in pre-1905 out in England, and with that, he worked with managers who worked often with Hylands before 1900. These managers were Steve Porter and Russell Hunting, and they seemed to be the best of luck for Hampton's studio pianists at these companies. Since Hampton recorded many fun "Coon" songs for these companies, the piano accompaniment on all of these is absolutely amazing for being British records! Charlie Judkins sent me a handful of these records this morning, and the ones that had piano accompaniment on them were exceptional! Two examples in particular were a record of "Bill Bailey" and one of "Any Rags", which were, first of all, recorded better than any American records from that time I have ever heard, in terms of piano accompaniment. I can hear every bass note, every trill, every syncopated note, it's all clear as a bell. It sounds like Steve Porter played recordings for the supposed pianist named Arthur Brooks that were by either Arthur Collins, or Len Spencer, with Hylands playing piano. That makes me assume that Brooks had amazing abilities in playing by ear, as he catches all of Hylands' characteristics better than anyone I have ever heard back then on records and even in Rag-Time communities now. If I didn't know any better, I'd've thought Hylands was playing piano! Porter and Hunting sure as hell kept something with them when they went overseas.

 I wonder if word got back to Hylands that Porter and Hunting were doing this...

Before the end of this post, I would like to share another newly slowed down transfer from this week. This time, it's a great original take of "The Laughing Coon" by George W. Johnson from 1898. The take in itself without any changes made has been used on this blog, but it always seemed too fast, so here's the newly fixed transfer:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YUkJBWXFncTF6S3RXOVJEN3Q0MjNTVWRCa2pR/view?usp=sharing
Not all the piano playing can be heard, but it's better than it was. 
The solo at the end that Hylands plays is still a mess, even though when it's slower, it sounds better and fathomable. The tone of the piano can be heard better this time around, which is great, because it still sounds like that 1898-99 piano at Columbia, so that's reassuring to some extent. This record remains a good example of Hylands not playing his best, possibly from being somewhat intoxicated(that's always fun to hear!). Johnson is probably as such as well if you're really listening closely. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Character Studies--Roger Harding(c.1858-1901)

 "I don't know Freddy, I'll join ya." is what Roger Harding must have said hesitantly when he became a part of Fred Hylands' first failed publishing firm.

Roger Harding was a funny little man, and must have been a real riot, since he ran with Fred Hylands' gang of publishers in 1899 and 1900. This group included(other than Hylands and his wife Marie), Len Spencer, Burt Green, Roger Harding, Steve Porter, Rollin Wooster, Barney Fagan, George Gaskin, and a few more of Fred's composer friends.  Harding was right in the mix of these wild young souls, but he must have wanted to be, since it was a real commitment to do this. Harding was one of the older members of the young staff at Columbia, being the same age as Billy Golden, it was not as easy to keep up with all the wild means of the young staff members, who were out partying and drinking almost every night. Harding was born in 1857 or 1858, out in Ireland, and where in that country has not ever been specified. As I have said before on this blog, Harding probably moved to the United States when he was very young, younger than George Gaskin when he came out here, which was between age 14 and 17. Harding's Gaelic dialect had completely faded by 1896, unlike Gaskin's. 

Harding was a peculiar little man. At just about five feet tall, he could sometimes be missed in the enormous crowds of the exhibitions, but surely you'd find him from his glasses, and dark eyes full of expression. He was always thinking of humor no matter where he was in the studio rooms of Columbia and Edison as well. He liked the Edison people, but made his best good with the Columbia crowd. For some reason, in 1896, Len Spencer took a liking to Harding, and wanted him to be featured on his "Imperial Minstrels" series. Once Spencer got him, Harding was part of the gang of recording fiends that Spencer was building up in 1896 and 1897. Unaware fully of the community he was getting into, Harding became a regular in the studios, and also in creating new small companies and writing music. Harding had a knack for writing music, as he oftentimes sat at the piano at home after the recording days and played to his singing for hours, playing old songs, and creating new ones. This interest got him curious about the music publishing business. He had to find someone in this crew of eccentrics who was also on this slight tangent. It took him a while of asking around from Vess Ossman to Cal Stewart, but it came to Fred Hylands. Harding and Hylands were also a duo for the ages, much like Hylands and Burt Green(or Len Spencer even), they went out to drink together, but also were addicted to the adrenaline rush of the risks involved in the music publishing business. It was a risky business, and this is why Harding must have been hesitant when he joined Fred Hylands in his firm of February of 1899. Harding, being the voice of full reason and focus in this firm, found Hylands' selfish and overly-ambitious means the reason that this firm only lasted two months. He was wild running that firm. Harding was desperately trying to keep Hylands tamed, and when the Hylands, Spencer and Yeager firm came along, Harding had to still tame the boys whose names are in the logo. Harding was basically the fourth name in this firm, after the three names came Harding, as he was in the most often to do the paperwork, manage exhibitions at his own phonograph parlour, and make records for the companies. He was a busy man in 1899, and Hylands didn't take this into consideration when Harding was all over the place, and was getting ill so often. Harding was often getting all sorts of maladies, varying from the winter grippe, to something as serious as influenza. He was often out for weeks at a time when he became ill, which was something that enraged Hylands, and got all the rest of the firm fired up. Harding wasn't a well built character, clearly he was plagued with those impulses to stay away from anything dirty, which can become a habit full of terrible consequences. Harding hadn't much hope, as by 1900, he was weary from the illnesses, and the friendship with Hylands and Spencer, which would certainly wear out any normal person if they had to deal with them for two years. Harding still wrote some music, and without Hylands, he got it all published by the bigger firms that Hylands hated with all his heart. He also turned out some great records in 1901, including a fun batch of Victor records. Harding was still that funny and loud little man with a great sense of humor, and a great mimic still. His skills of mimicry had improved greatly since he entered in that community of eccentricities in 1896. He got another one of those maladies in later 1901, just months after he made those Victors, but he never returned. All the staff at Columbia were in tears, and mourned him almost just as much as the many who came to Frank Banta's funeral in 1903. 

Here are some of Harding's records:
 His great and hilarious sketch "A Coon in Love" from 1901 on a Victor.

His sketch and song with Fred Hylands, "Ive Been Down in Old Kentucky", also on a Victor from 1901.

And here's his big solo here on one of Spencer's Imperial Minstrels records, it has him singing "Upon the Golden Shore" and also being the minstrel of focus. 

Harding could have been a wonderful executive of any of the big record companies, which I have a feeling he would have become if he'd have lived longer. Those wild men Hylands and Spencer were too much for him. 

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry it's been quite a few days, I've had many projects tap this week.