The OKeH mystery and new transfers

Well folks, It has been a hell of a month! 

Since my last post, it has been particularly difficult to sit down and write a decent blog post. A lot has happened in terms of research, so much so that it has been difficult to conjure a single thing into a decent write up, so hopefully this post goes somewhat well. If it's more scattered than usual, I do apologize. 

So...

Regarding Hager's collection...with the access to some of it, a whole lot of mysteries have risen. One particular thing has got me at a frustrating cliffhanger. In 1923, as many collectors know, the OKeH boys went out to the south to take on the earliest successful group of field recordings. From this trip there came about the start of the hillbilly record. When you look up these significant field recordings, the sole manager of these you see is a fellow named Ralph Peer. Mr. Peer is a familiar figure in the early jazz world, as he was the one who got King Oliver's first records on the market, and for dozens more things that more collectors of records care about(you know, who cares about records from before 1920?). 

So here's where the conflict begins.  

(Hager, second from left, and the Heinemann's and all, 1920. Notice the GENERAL PHONOGRAPH sign in the background.)

We know about Hager's high management role at OKeH in the 1920's, being the big kahuna(quite literally I might add!) in the studio. His prestige earned him lots of mentions in histories of the OKeH label, from Mamie Smith to Clarence Williams, but what about the Hillbilly records? 

According to every source I have checked, Hager had nothing to do with these field recordings. BUT! Hager's own writing proved otherwise. In some of Hager's writing dated to 1950, he states that he had something to do with these recordings, and more than once I might add. 

He claims that:

"Fred Hager[I], then the recording manager took his[my] recording crew to the South, where he[I] recorded many hillbilly troups..."

But this isn't the narrative that I've been led to believe. Hager a few lines before claimed that Vernon Dalhart's record of "Wreck of of '97" was responsible for the hillbilly record craze. 

And, he says all this more than once, almost as though he knew someone would be reading through his typo-ridden stories(typewritten) decades later. 

So this begs the question, why is it that we can't find Hager associated with these famous recordings anywhere but in his own private writing? 

In my past experiences of cross referencing the words of the stars themselves, oftentimes there are some serious issues. Like for example, Fred Gaisberg's writing. His writing was full of misinformation, so much of it that it took 50 years for a lot of scholars to finally set everything straight. He claimed outrageous things as George W. Johnson getting lynched for his murder trial, and so many more fallacies I won't take the time to list. 

In my experience with researching Hager's own words, he did get things wrong. He mixed things up, reversed orders and names. A good example is a piece that was written in Record Research  in 1973 by Jim Walsh. Walsh quotes a long letter from Hager received decades ago, and Hager went on about the details regarding his association with vertical labels. In this valuable letter, Hager gives a good idea of what the order of succession was, from Phono-cut to OKeH, but since this letter was published, scholars have proven otherwise. 

Hager reversed the order of a few things, and didn't at all consider the interference of the Starr piano company(later Gennett records) that was part of the deal done by Phono-cut, and later Keen-O-phone. Hager also claimed little responsibility for the Keen-O-Phone endeavor, though without doubt we can prove he was part of it somehow. Based on catalogs and supplements from these labels, Hager's words have been proven wrong. 

So there's that issue. Even with this in mind, why would Hager make this up? Why would he restate the matter in his writings(in two different places)? It wasn't really too far removed from the era in which he worked for OKeH, so it wouldn't seem too out of place. But okay, let's say that Hager was part of this trip, he went with Ralph Peer and the boys to the southern states. The thing that I am not comprehending is why didn't Hager mention Mr. Peer? In every source I've dug through so far, Mr. Peer is regarded as the mastermind and director of these trips. With his youth and vigor, Peer would be in the right place to direct these recordings, being a similar age to most of the performers they recorded. 

(OKeH group photo, taken in 1918. Hager is standing at center)

Hager was one of the oldest managers at OKeH in this period, nearly 20 years older than the very hip young Mr. Peer. As progressive minded as Hager was(as I have learned through reading through more of his writing, typewritten and handwritten), he could only go so far. This is why he left OKeH around 1926, but his buddy Justin Ring stuck around till the end. I don't imagine Hager had the means and physical strength to carry along all the way to New Orleans in 1923, but who knows. I'm judging by the fact that he had wildly spent much of his song hit money and ended up looking quite aged beyond his years by 1918(he was only 43 then). 

Something isn't right here. Something is amiss, and I have no idea what it is. Since there are so many collectors of OKeH records of this type out there, I ma hoping some of you can help in solving this tantalizing mystery. 

Why would Hager so fondly write about these field recordings, but is nowhere to be seen in every historical analysis of them? 

Is Hager wrong? Was there some kind of odd conflict? 

Who knows. if any of you can help, I'd be happy to cross reference with you and include any of your findings in a future post. 

Anyway, time to move on! 

UCSB has been quite busy as we know, they have been putting up all these lovely Zon-O-Phones, which have kept my ears busy. It is difficult to choose a few transfers to highlight here, as there are so many good ones to analyze. 

What's good about some of these new transfers is that they have gone back and taken on a lot of records I have been wanting to hear for years. Many really beautiful brownies! 

To begin, I'd like to highlight a new 1897 Columbia transfer. In my ever present research of Hylands, I am always searching for "...New York City" announced Columbias. Columbias from this period are essential for pinning down a more exact date of pianist style changes. These in particular were made in that period that Hylands was supposed to have been first employed by Columbia. This therefore would indicate the beginning of the hottest rag-time piano heard on records of the entire era(1896-1914). So here's the newly added 1897 "Whistling Coon" by George W. Johnson: 

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder9963

Unfortunately, the piano is quite distant on this particular take. There is only one thing that stands out in the accompaniment here, and it is that one little addition at 1:25. However! I can tell that this pianist is Hylands. Even with so little distinctions, I am so aware of Hylands' accompaniment on this particular song that it's got to be him on this take. Thanks to a c.1902 Columbia take on UCSB's disc site, it's definitely the same pianist, even though the approach is more ragged. Here's the 1902-ish take:

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000135596/211-The_whistling_coon

Aren't convinced yet?

 Well, there's an 1898-ish Columbia of "The whistling girl" with that same accompaniment style, particularly that lumbering vamp:

https://archive.org/details/TheWhistlingGirl1898JohnsonandHylands

So hopefully you are hearing that this is the same pianist here; one dating from 1897, 1898, and 1902. 

And these dates line up perfectly with my Hylands research. In 1897, 1898, and 1902, Hylands was free to work at Columbia with little outside work keeping him from them. These dates correspond well with his availability. 

The next pair of brownies are by John Yorke AtLee. We all love Mr. AtLee! 

I very much enjoy AtLee's records with Hylands. Something about combining the old world man AtLee with the hot young pansy Hylands makes for some brilliant records. AtLee was used to working with straight-laced Fred Gaisberg, so I always imagine that when AtLee walked into Columbia to see big redheaded Hylands there glaring down through his 'spects he must have been somewhat intimidated. The first record to listen to is their 1898 record of "The Mockingbird", which is almost an exact imitation of AtLee's c.1890 record of it with Gaisberg.

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder16695

Clearly AtLee wanted to this to sound a specific way, but Hylands couldn't help but cut it ragged. This record illustrates Hylands' brilliant talent for split second improvisation. It is kind of a mess, as he plays a lot of the wrong chord changes at times, but manages to keep a confident swagger in his playing. 

To continue the AtLee and Hylands theme, they recently put up two very different takes of "Marchin thro' Georgia". Here you go:

(the first one is listenable, the second one is so messy I wouldn't try it if your ears are delicate)

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder12007

It really is a damn shame that these records are so mess, as the first one is absolutely great! The tempo they agreed on is perfect. Hylands' variations on this piece have encouraged me to learn this piece in the way he played it. 

AtLee and Hylands worked oddly well together, even with the 18 year difference between them. 

So to close off, I'd like to leave you with a beautiful(but transferred too fast) take of a Latin piece "Pro Peccatis". This has a rough and heavenly piano sound that was often typical of early Zon-O-Phone's. Their piano sounded like a harp sometimes, particularly when Ring played it(that's who I think the pianist is on this particular record).

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000259897/Zo_cat_545-Pro_peccatis

I have really built a love for Gogorza's voice recently. I really think he was one of the best singers to record in the 1890's and 1900's. He's up there with J. W. Myers, Silas Leachman, and Joe Belmont. The texture of the piano sound is so intense and precise, in that lovely way Zon-O-Phone records sounded. 

In a future post I will finally explain my recent findings on Ring. I am pretty sure he is the pianist on that Latin Zono based on recent findings regarding him. 

Anyway, 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Regarding Mr. Banta and slow speeds

Frank P. Banta's death date is approaching, which is always a depressing time for me. I can barely express the words for how wonderful Banta was as a pianist, and how innocent and introverted the recording stars described him to be. The amount of praise Banta received from his studio fellows is quite outstanding. There are so few of those studio pianists mentioned in any context, but the only one that seemed immortal through recollection was Banta. 

That sweet smile is always heartwarming. 

Recently while digging around in period sources on the recording business, I finally found a better version of that Edison studio picture that was used in Edison catalogs years after Banta died:

Where do I begin with him? 

The praises that Dan W. Quinn spoke of Banta are quite an interesting read. Quinn praised Banta so highly for his unequalled ability to play anything by ear, and that Quinn would rather have Banta play at all his gigs and recording sessions. Quinn enjoyed Mr. Banta's company so much in fact, that he named his youngest child after Banta. According to the Quinn family, Dan passed down many stories that included Banta's presence and name. Clearly Quinn had quite a high respect for his pianist Mr. Banta. Compare that to the non-existent accounts of his time working with Fred Hylands at Columbia. Despite those not being written down, we know they happened. 

With Banta, it wasn't just Quinn who sung out his praises, it was also all the others at Edison, in more subtle ways however. Frank Stanley took the "Frank" in his studio name from that Mr. Banta. From written ledgers that survive from Edison, we know that Stanley worked very often with Banta. In fact, some of the most beautiful records Banta was on were recorded with Stanley, at least as far as I've heard. It's hard to beat these two gems:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder13658

https://archive.org/details/edgm-8310

That second one is particularly gorgeous, for a different reason then the first one.

 One thing that's very curious about Banta, in considering the other studio pianists, is the amount of his music that was recorded over time. It can be argued that he in fact wrote the most popular song of the brown wax era, and that's "the Laughing song". Of course he was not the origin of the song, that was George W. Johnson, but Banta deserves the credit for writing the song down on paper, and helping promote it to phonographers all over. Of course Banta remained modest about the overwhelming success with "the Laughing Song", as he remained respectful to Johnson's ownership of the tune. His name may have been on it, but he kept all the success in the studios solely, with the satisfaction of making Fred Hylands read his arrangement, and eventually butcher it for an old Cincinnati jig. Hylands may have had the publishing firm with Len Spencer, but Banta had the keys to the most popular and profitable song of the brown wax era. Other than "the laughing song", Banta's other pieces remained in the standard studio repertoire until as late as 1906. His earliest songs in the mid-1890's(after "the laughing song"), were likely recorded by Quinn and other popular singers of the mid-90's. His 1897 piece "The Chaser" was taken and kept for almost a decade by Fred Hager, as he recorded it with his orchestra in 1905. 

I have that very record to share here:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qQ8w12axwFMOo2_9wWiYvFwtg6QgvaPv/view

Even with all the very typical aspects to this march, I can still hear the characteristics that make it a Banta piece. Over the years I've studied his playing, it seems to have been more eccentric and self-taught than someone even as folksy as Hylands. Hylands had a distinct regional style, but Banta had his own mix of everything to create his style. Oddly enough, I would say that Banta's style was more closely related to Arthur Pryor's style than to Hylands'. There are a few reasons that I say that, the first being that the two were obviously close friends, recording two famous(or infamous rather) piano solos on the same day at Victor in 1900. 

You can view the ledgers here:

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/date/browse/1900-09-27

There they are, the pair of pianists at Victor in 1900. 

That's quite a pair! Not often would we associate a prominent figure as Arthur Pryor with such lost figures as the earliest studio pianists. I would guess that the reason the two were so well acquainted would stem back to their days at Berliner. Banta was working for Berliner as early as 1897, as was Pryor, and the few solos that Pryor made for them in that year almost certainly have Banta's accompaniment. Such as this one here: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HmdepXpz00

It seems perfectly in line to see those two rag-timers enjoying each other's company. 

Of course now that I have become well founded in the idea that all these band men knew each other, it seems almost certain they were constantly sharing each other's arrangements. Imagine it, Arthur Pryor, Hager, and Banta going out for a drink after the studio day, going to gossip about all the recording banter from the day.

So...another piece of Banta's that was recorded many years after it was written was his "Ragged William". As late as 1905 that piece was recorded by studio orchestras, in that year, the Regimental Band of the Republic revived the old Banta piece on the American label. 

Of course, this piece was recorded many times in 1899-1901 by Banta's own orchestra, the Metropolitan and Peerless orchestras. This oddity of a rag was rather popular with the studio groups, as I'm sure one of Hager's Zon-O-Phone ensembles recorded the piece in 1900 or 1901. I searched around for other versions of the piece and it seems that the tune was listed in the Leeds catalog around 1900. But of course it doesn't really come as a surprise that studio pianists' piece were recorded, as they had the best chances of getting anything they wrote recorded than anyone else. Banta's were just a bit more interesting and attractive to more than his own orchestra, compare that to Hylands' "The Darkey Volunteer".

 Banta's 1901 piece "Halimar" was also recorded. This particular piece had been a source of great interest for me, since I had wondered about it for so many years, with that oriental rondo subtitle to tantalize me, until I finally got a curious recording of it. 

By Hager's orchestra. 

The moment I saw that on Ebay I knew I had to snag it. Turns out this piece did not disappoint, it was definitely worth all the anticipation. Anyhow, you can hear my mediocre transfer here:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Wck5Wis5RK43-63FnqTCiNxXOsSw2-Ct/view?usp=sharing

It's quite an interesting piece. So far, this piece presents all of Banta's self-taught eccentricities in composing and piano style. But of course the added bonus with this record is that it's my very favorite group playing it! To add some humor in this, I drew a cartoon with Pryor making a kind comment to Banta regarding this very record, with Hager himself well involved in dancing to the tune:

It's fun to imagine those three having so much fun together. 

It's clear that all those studio boys respected Banta to highly, and for good reason. He naturally had abilities that surpassed that of such musicians as Pryor and Hager. He must have also had a very rousing sense of humor, as well as an attractive demeanor, as he was quoted in 1892 saying thus:

"Oh that doesn't matter...just hum it over once and I'll catch it."

The only other early recording star who was documented of having that freakish ability was Silas Leachman. That must be why Leachman and Banta's records sounded so damn good. Also, i have come to believe that Banta was on some of the best of Leachman's Victors, such as these two:

https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000000582/Pre-matrix_B-1129-Quit_that_tickling_me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7--truVAzLw

I firmly believe that Leachman's hottest Victors are so hot because of Banta's accompaniment.  A long while ago I did a post regarding the frustration of Leachman's Victors in terms of piano accompaniment, but now I can pretty surely say that Hylands never accompanied Leachman on Victor, and with those records it's either Banta or Chris Booth. The more wild and ragged of Leachman's Victors likely have the Banta accompaniment. Now that I have become very used to hearing Banta's style on records, I have a very solid sense of what he tended to play overall, little eccentricities and characteristics. The most curious aspects to his playing that really don't make the most sense to me, in thinking of his musical region of origin, are the drone note and the rollicking/walking bass(you can hear a great example on this Leachman Victor here). Banta basically had all the aspects to his style of a rural pianist from way out west in Kansas, extra beats and measures included, but he was from New York. 

Where did he pick these up?

I have wondered that often when I hear records like this with Banta's accompaniment:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17123

Clearly Banta had heard some things that he wasn't supposed to(as a respectable pianist). Isn't that how all these rough pianists got better? Indeed so. He had an ear that could pick up anything, so who knows where he would have gotten the ideas going through his mind at that moment on that record above. A similar record you can hear below:

https://archive.org/details/WantsmyChickensCollinsBantaHager1898

In case you are wondering why that recording of "The Weddin O'er the Hill" is so significant, listen to this piece of serious folk rag-time, it's quite similar:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngLrZ63ZDfU

Both of these pieces by the famous Missouri wonder Blind Boone sound remarkably similar to some of the things I've heard Banta play on many records. Just one example, that bass note pattern at 1:23-1:24 is actually in his "Halimar". There are plenty more things that you can listen to on your own to pick out. Keep in mind that Boone didn't put together this piece of reminiscence(remembering music of the 1870's or so) until 1912. 

Anyway...

I will wear all black this Friday in honor of the sweet and gentle soul that was Frank P. Banta. His tragic life will remain immortal thanks to those who spoke of him so highly. 
We still hear you Mr. Banta. 

Well then!

In the last two days, I have been playing around with listening to some of my brown waxes, and others that are scattered online. A long while ago I did a post regarding the slow speed effect, of which I am still a very fond supporter. Awhile ago I acquired a very curious 1898 Columbia brown wax cylinder. My first brown wax cylinder was George P. Watson singing "Emmett's Lullaby" from 1898, but it is most certainly the most unusual take I've ever heard of it, but not for reasons these odd takes typically are. This particular take has a playing speed of just under 100 rpm. 

What?

Yes! You hear me right! Under 100 rpm. The oddly slow speed of this record creates some frustrating issues when playing it, of course. The grooves are very shallow, the speed fluctuates quite a lot, and the recording itself is rather quiet. It's worth the frustration because this record is definitely exceptional, the sound quality is very nice and clear, with loud and bass heavy piano accompaniment(by Hylands!). So here's where the slow speed idea comes into play, this record was made at a very slow speed, and I am fairly certain that this odd speed is correct for this particular record. Any slower it sounded unnatural, and any faster it sounded quick and low quality. 

So here's the thing about this...I have come to believe(after many discussions with collectors) that records from this era are supposed to sound slow to our modern ears, but these records can only sound as beautiful and clear as they truly were a bit slower than we'd usually think to play them. I believe in the quality of records from this time being great, I am a firm believer in the superiority of brown wax(as did Russell Hunting), and that acoustic recordings sounded better than most people would expect. An oddly good example of this contrast of too fast can be heard on this 1891 Issler accompaniment record:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-wI7RWfcb8
The speed fluctuates so much on this record that we can actually hear the difference between too fast and just right speed. When the record is slower(at the right speed) in the key of F, it sounds much fuller and well recorded, but when it speeds up, it sounds very low quality and the piano sounds distant. 
It's quite interesting how this turns out. If you listen to the record closely, you can tell that the record itself is already transferred very slow. 
So most scholarly record collectors know that these records are to be played much slower than 78, but often the speed of cylinders are all over the place. Just consider what I said about that Watson brown wax.

So with that in mind, I played my two William Tuson brown waxes slow. How they sounded so much better. The two Tuson clarinet solos I have are "Old Black Joe" and "Southern Plantation Echoes". Tuson's solo of "old Black Joe" sounded beautiful in A flat, it sounded slow and pretty at the straight section, and rather jumpy and folksy at the variations section. The piano accompaniment came through very well when I played it slow, every note came through, and I could even go to the piano and figure out the exact inversions of chords Hylands was playing. 
If you've got some records at home you're curious about, do try playing them a bit slower than you'd think to, it'll create quite a difference in quality!
Anyhow, I don't need to go on about this slow speed matter, it pretty much explains itself. 



Before I close out, I'd like to share one of my favorite Leachman and Banta records, to further honor Mr. Banta for this Friday:
https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002499/Pre-matrix_B-3356-Mr._Johnson_dont_get_gay

Hope you are all having a good holiday season so far! 

Fishing for Syncopation

One thing that has always been a source of interest for me has been finding traces of syncopation on records from before 1897. With a lot of new transfers being put up on Santa Barbara's website, there have been more examples of these records. Traces of syncopation are quite common as it turns out, more so than would be immediately expected with recordings of this age. Since I started to become interested in this music and these records, hearing Rag-Time on them became an overwhelming fascination for me. We can all dig through as much of the band and orchestra rag-time as we want, but to really grasp some of the clearest examples of authentic, rather eccentric, rag-time digging in the most unexpected places yield the best material. 

(the North American of "The Bell Buoy" by J. W. Myers, c.1893, from UC Santa Barbara)

Fishing is the right word it seems for this search for syncopation. This is because it's a hit or miss situation, though it's bound to happen sometimes. Recently, I went back and listened to many of the earliest records from North American and Edison, out of caution for the newly revealed fact that Frank P. Banta worked for North American starting in 1892. With that in place, I have been able to recognize similar characteristics to late 1890's Banta on some of these early records. Of course I'm going out and saying that he's on all those North American records from 1892-1894, but he's likely on many of them now that we know. Much of the syncopated style that's present on some of those North American records is now likely to be Banta, rather than the well-assumed to be Issler. Of course this period of time is very hard to tell, since it's just after the point where the very detailed Edison-North American ledgers drop off. But no matter, we still have our ears to listen! 
Now the most recent record that I found on my fishing trip for syncopation is one of the most outstanding examples I've ever heard.  Here's the link to the record:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjch0xipuDs

So the first thing to note here, is how the piano player starts playing in the middle of the announcement. When I first heard this record I assumed that was a keen indication of Banta, since the time frame for the record would indicate a very green Banta in terms of recording experience. That made set the year to 1892 at first, according to Banta's first year in recording. But after taking a few listens and being consulted by an expert in brown wax, 1893 seems more likely as the year. 
The second thing to note before I dig into the piano accompaniment is the singer. Of course it's very hard to tell who that singer is, as it's no one who was a regular in the studio around that time, though this singer is likely someone who wasn't a studio regular. The singer at points of the song actually rushes the rhythm just enough to make it almost swing. Yes, I mean it by using that. One example is at 1:28-1:29. Another good example is at 1:50-1:52. The last example is at 2:42-2:45. This may seem too slight to pick out but it's definitely noticeable, and significant enough to note. This sort of swing is pretty much exactly what Charles Asbury did on his records naturally. Just to hear the comparison, here's a great example by Asbury from 1895:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/16UwDuQli9LJ36hsiyAV5yTXXUF4js5IT/view?usp=sharing

All-right, now for the real reason I am still getting over my astonishment of this record, the piano accompaniment. Other than the weirdness at the very beginning in the announcement and the completely broken intro, the accompaniment is particularly interesting. There are plenty of very audible mistakes, which is fine, but part of the reason I think the pianist is a very young and green Banta. It's very nice to be able to hear all the low notes in the accompaniment, which adds a level of charm that is hard to describe. The first solo the pianist plays isn't too special, rather typical of accompaniment of that time, but the second solo is where it's at. 
That solo at 2:00 is absolutely shocking to hear. And here's why...
It may not be very syncopated, but it emulates those primitive march-rag-negro dances of the early and mid 1890's, with the first part of the solo sounding like a late-1890's rag pattern(even though it's technically looser a variation on the accompaniment done throughout the record). But what exactly does it sound like? Well I'll tell you, this is what:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_dI6BZt06U
It absolutely astounded me to hear such similarity, despite there being little syncopation, it's a much whiter take on the style that Scott Joplin and other early black rag pianists would have been playing as early as 1893(as according to Will Marion Cook!). The basic structure of the solo is similar to the infectious themes of Joplin's earliest rag compilations. 

And keep in mind that this record is from around 1893!
So with all that being said, I do not want you to think that I am certain the pianist is Banta, but one thing is for sure, that pianist is way too sloppy and eccentric to be Edward Issler. The pianist is very similar to Banta, as the style on this record is likely how a young and still musically forming Banta likely sounded. By 1897-1898, even as early as 1896 we can hear Banta having the same basic style as this 1893 record, but more refined and less sporadic. 

This record led me to thinking of and going back to listening to those records I have known for having syncopation on them. Another example(in fact one of the most overt ones I've heard), is Spencer's 1893-94 or so record of "Mamie Come Kiss your Honey Boy". 

(Spencer c.1888). 
This Spencer record has been a source of reference for me when looking for authentic syncopation on records before 1897. here's a link to the record just for reference:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YSVN3QVBpZU4yUFRTLWVRYnZJZEdnanQtdW9B/view?usp=sharing
The smoothness of Spencer's syncopation is really something. All the syncopation on this record is solely done by Spencer, not the pianist. Though when fishing for syncopation on these records the vocalist is just as important as the accompaniment. What's particularly noteworthy about Spencer's singing on this is that he throws in two different kinds of syncopation, unlike using a single type and sprinkling it in one or maybe measures. We get the typical schottische syncopation at the beginning of each verse, but then we get little bits of the same swing that's all over Asbury's record throughout to make things interesting. 

The Spencer example has that more typical syncopation that's all over Schottisches of the 1850's-1890's, and in case you're unsure what exactly this rhythm is, you can hear it played several times on this 1894 Issler record:
 http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17058
While that type of rhythm was common, the typical cake-walk syncopation we know of wasn't either!
On this 1894-ish Issler record the overt cake-walk syncopation is played by the entire orchestra, which is nice to hear it emphasized so clearly:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1M77MA15X0lC02G4Qhy-PhYWtQ1_ZGz3K/view?usp=sharing
On the above Issler record, we can hear both types, but the cake-walk syncopation adds a level of interest to keep me listening, and of course I still haven't heard an Issler's orchestra record I don't like...
With Issler we already know that he was fully capable of playing smooth syncopation as early as 1889, so to hear him play both types so early with his orchestra, and likely as accompaniment, doesn't come as a surprise. But of course every example is one to note, add to the pile to use for proof later. 
Someone like Banta I would already assume to be playing syncopation of all types as early as 1893, because of his spotty musical upbringing, as well as his busy times working with Ossman. Banta was part of the generation that really boosted rag-time into white society, so I wouldn't put it past him to be playing such rhythms so early. 

When doing this fishing, sometimes things are a miss, records you would assume to be very interesting and have a fair amount if syncopation don't end up living to the expectations. Anything by George W. Johnson is a perfect example of this. Not every version of his four songs is as promising as his late-1890's Columbia's with Fred Hylands. His 1894-ish version of "The Laughing Song" that Santa Barbara put up recently is a great example of this. 
Here's that record:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17216
(it's rather messy, beware!)
This record should have bits of syncopation on it, but it's got the closest thing to it. Despite the absence of overt syncopation, the accompaniment is still very interesting, and rather eccentric. This record, just by the circumstances is likely another early Banta record. Though I would not really say the accompaniment is perfectly like Banta's style, the year in conjunction with the song's arranger(Banta!) would lead me to think it's him on piano, but do not quote me on that. 

When we get to 1896-97, the kind of syncopation that we hear in accompaniments is much different. This is when we get to the more familiar "rag" style. But as I've done previous posts on before, 1897 is still one of the most difficult years for pianist identification. The more 1897 Columbia's I hear, the more I lean to a single pianist style. I still am set on the assumption that Fred Hylands started working at Columbia by mid-1897 at the least, but I'm still trying to figure out where that cutoff would be exactly. Those "new York city" Columbia's are the most frustrating for me in terms of piano accompaniment. That time of mid-1897 at Columbia was when they had a few staff changes, pianists included. With those records that Ossman made for Columbia in 1897, I would place the pianist as being Banta, as they were still performing together onstage around that time, though for someone like Billy Golden, that's a different story. 
This leads me to get back to my nemesis record, Golden's 1897 Columbia of "Uncle Jefferson". 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11728
I still consider this record one of the earliest examples of serious rag-time piano accompaniment. 
For early 1897 it's rather raggy and eccentric. I am still bent on who that pianist is. Many of the characteristics sound like early Hylands, but still sound a little bit like Issler(or maybe George Schweinfest!). Now here's one thing for sure, the pianist on that "uncle Jefferson" is the same on this 1897 Columbia:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1IqZr-mbGekuZjOWUTOvjf5q9kRcD4vc7/view?usp=sharing
Exactly the same kind of mid-bar syncopation is present here as the "Uncle Jefferson". 
The "uncle Jefferson" is certainly more sporadic and eccentric, but the eccentricity is similar in different parts of the accompaniment. After listening to lots of Banta recently, it occurred to me that I may have been blinded by my assumption of Banta only working for Edison. I know it's not the same song, but it's the other George W. Johnson hit--"The Laughing Coon"; this record I listened to recently and pulled apart again proved something with this conundrum. That pianist on the 1897 "Uncle Jefferson" may be Banta! I was so set in the idea that Banta didn't cross over that I was missing key characteristics that were evident of Banta. This record here has a lot of the same characteristics as the 1897 Columbia of "the Laughing Song" in the previous link:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder15526
The main similarity here is in the smooth quick passages he plays at the end of every solo. 
So again, don't quote me on this, but Banta was likely one of the sub pianists they had at Columbia in that awkward period in 1897 before Hylands came along. Without Banta however, we wouldn't get some of the best early example of overt rag-time on records, such as his 1897 take of "Turkey in the Straw" with Billy Golden:
https://archive.org/details/TurkeybyGoldenwBanta1897
It's because of Banta that we get such oddly authentic examples of early syncopation on records, including his earliest recordings from 1892-1895. 
After 1897, we get all the good stuff. That's the cutoff for the more varied styles of rag-time showing up in piano accompaniments on records. Banta holds forth with the strange mix of itinerant and classically trained, whilst all the same we get Hylands and his dense, eccentric Ohio river valley/Chicago style that is like no other. 
Unfortunately Hylands' recording legacy has been neglected for over 100 years. Even in the era he lived his studio work was very rarely spoken of. It almost seems like those years he spent in the studio were like a dream. It was spoken of so highly when it happened and was re-imagined, but it vanished from all existence with the person who dreamt it. But I don't need to ramble down this path again...I've spoken plenty about the tragedy of the tragedian of Fred Hylands. 










Anyway...
This afternoon I listened to quite a few of those beloved Climax records, and noticed something. The pianist on those Climax records was always really nice and played dense accompaniments. For a long while I have assumed that to be Hylands, since it's so dense, complicated, and very rhythmic. Well, I listened to two versions of "a Rag-Time Skedaddle" recorded around the same time for Columbia, and Zon-O-phone, and noticed that they are the same pianist. 
Yes, Zon-O-Phone AND Columbia--same pianist. 
Here's the Columbia:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFRtiG6LyvY
And here's the Zon-O-Phone: 
https://soundcloud.com/jack-stanley-881056448/ragtime-skedaddle-frank-mazzlotta-1902?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook
The pianist pretty much is playing exactly the same accompaniment. 
Okay, so I do not know who this pianist would be. But considering that it's Zon-O-phone and Columbia we're dealing with here, I would lean toard Fred Hager more than say Justin Ring. 

The reason I lean more toward Hager is because he had come kind of connections at Columbia as early as 1901, playing violin for them and all. 

With Justin Ring I wouldn't know. 

To further this unusual connection between Columbia-Climax-Zonophone, I listened to even more Climax records and Zon-O-Phone's back to back and noticed the same exact piano style on both. 

I listened to this one here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvNiWY1Cj3c

back to back with a 1901 Zon-O-phone of John Terrell singing "Whistling Rufus", and they had the same rough an dense characteristics that give the Climax in the link above its charm. The most interesting thing is of course the whistling chorus at the end, with all sorts of interesting dense chords and bass note rhythm. 

A good comparison is another John Terrell record from around the same time as the Climax above:

https://ia800609.us.archive.org/34/items/CollectedWorksOfJohnTerrell/TaintAGoinToWeepNoMore1902_64kb.mp3

The overall touch and characteristics are the same. Also, if you've heard many Zon-O-Phone's from around this time you'll recognize that dense piano accompaniment that always has chords that have lots of notes. Luckily the quality of those records caught all those essential notes. 

So, it seems that now when we come across a Columbia in a period of time where we know Hylands wasn't in New York, we can assume that pianist to be one of those strange Zon-O-Phone pianists. Now here's the thing about that pianists' style, it sounds a lot like Hylands' style, but it's most certainly not. Justin Ring wasn't extracted from a mid-western background, so I wouldn't expect him to sound similar to Hylands, however, Hager would. Hager had basically the same upbringing as Hylands, with his father even having the same occupation as Hylands(locomotive engineer), and starting to play music around the same time. Also, Hager was from far enough west to have a style similar to Hylands, when thinking in terms of regional piano(rag) styles. Hager was from rural Pennsylvania, which technically should yield a similar style to the neighboring state(Ohio), which is where Hylands' style was developed. 

Even the slightest characteristics like how (the pianist) plays the melody on this  Climax record at 1:00 in is significant:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEUAdT9lzIM

It's slightly exaggerated and almost syncopated. That's very much like the Indiana/Ohio river valley style of Hylands, but that pianist for Climax is definitely not Hylands. 

I should quit it here, I've written much more than I thought on these matters for this post. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Charles Asbury and New Transfers

It seems Archeophone is back at it again, not like they aren't always. This next record that they're working on now is just phenomenal. I was looking around on Facebook this week, and came across a bit of samples for the new record that Archeophone is planning to release. This new record is only a two sided 45, but what's on it is tantalizing. For a while, I have highlighted the importance of Charles Asbury's records, or at least the one that is currently online. In terms of Rag-Time historians, his records are among the best case studies of the earliest examples. The one we've all heard online is his 1894 "Haul the Woodpile Down", and it never fails to amaze the Rag-Time historians. 

The only image I had seen of Asbury was a crude drawing from the December 1892 issue of The Phonogram. On that page, Asbury is surrounded by all the favorites, such as Len Spencer, Russell Hunting, John York AtLee, etc. It was surprising to actually see Asbury there in that bunch of recording stars, since we who know about him wouldn't think of associating him with them. 

Maybe we're mistaken by doing that? 

Here's that picture I'm talking about: 

It's pretty crude, and the quality of the scan isn't that great...

Now here's the thing about Asbury that's intriguing, there's nothing known about him! 

I remember years ago attempting to do some digging on Asbury, but was led nowhere. I did eventually find someone who had done thew same thing and assumed they had found him, a minstrel performer and banjoist born around 1852-53. The evidence and details were a but questionable, but it was and still is hopeful to see an interest in his mystery. The fact that his records are so good, and are such outstanding outliers to the other "coon song" singers, is what makes him attractive to record scholars. His records are nothing like the authentic rugged records of George W. Johnson, or the educated primitive nature of Len Spencer's(before 1897). Asbury's voice and banjo playing sound more like George W. Johnson than anyone else, but here's a thought...
Think of Silas Leachman: 

We are for certain that Leachman learnt all the music he recorded by ear, never from music. With Leachman we also get the benefit of his upbringing in Kentucky at a prime period of time, which is essential to his unique style. In keeping in mind Leachman's method of learning new music, we need to know what distinct characteristics to his singing and playing(of piano) would indicate this. 
It can be hard to tell whether someone learns music by ear, but being someone who does that myself, I can catch the signs. 
One important thing to notice is if the lyrics are switched around or are phrased differently from the written ones. This is why I almost always check to lyrics to certain songs to compare. This sort of thing is all over the place on Leachman's records, more particularly his brown wax records made at home. His records such as his 1895 or so recording of "old Uncle John" are perfect examples of how he switched around the lyric phrasing, even the time signature in the chorus. In the written music, the chorus is in 6/8, but on Leachman's take, the chorus is in 3/4. This sort of thing is a signature to leachman, even on many of his later Victors, all of these things are present here and there. But of course why am I saying this? We are certain that Leachman played by ear, it was written about in that long Chicago Tribune article from 1895 about him. In Leachman's case, we're just trying to make sure that the things correspond correctly to confirm it. 

What has all of this to do with Asbury?
Actually, quite a lot. 

After being able to hear a little more of Asbury this week, the ideas that I've formulated about Leachman have transferred to Asbury's style. The only reason I have any idea of this is because he had all the signs that would indicate learning by ear. Another important factor to this theory is the fact that the performer bring to the recording horn tunes that were never published, or cannot be traced historically. This is similar with Billy Golden and George W. Johnson. However, Johnson had the privilege of having Frank P. Banta to actually write down the songs that were his specialties, and arrange them exactly as Johnson performed them. 
Asbury was alone with his music, performing tunes that were rare even to the most popular recording stars. The very unpublished(or impossible to trace) tune of his I'm thinking of is "Haul the Woodpile Down". Wherever the tune came from, it's a very old, perhaps early American, song with elements similar to "Amazing Grace" and songs related.
Here's the record just to refresh the memory:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8103

 With this in mind, the sample of Asbury singing "New Coon in Town"(released by Archeophone this week) already exhibits these essential elements of ear learning. The chorus has mixed around phrases and added words, without the complicatedness of the original song published in Chicago in 1884. This was a popular song as the "coon song" era started to take shape, so it doesn't particularly come as a surprise that he recorded this tune. The way he plays the song is particularly interesting, since it's nothing like the way that all of us Ragtimers play it. One of my good friends listened to the bit of the "new Coon in Town", and immediately assumed it was a different tune with the same way, but that's not true. That is indeed the same tune that was often quoted, including in an article about George W. Johnson's domestic troubles:

Yep, those are the same lyrics, but switched around as expected. Just as Leachman was, Asbury also had all the aspects of a fully natural musician, with near perfect vocal pitch, and a very attractive style of banjo and singing. 
All of this makes Asbury more tantalizing for sure, though keep in mind that all of what I just said about him is just a theory, and none of it may be true. Hopefully there's at least a basic level of information on him in the notes that accompany the record Archeophone is putting out next month. 
I just can't wait! The samples are just unbelievable!



Now to move on from well hidden mystery. I said in the last post that I would do some more digging in Santa Barbara's new transfers, and in the past few weeks, that's exactly what I did. The excitement is never ending now that they're gradually putting up random brown wax transfers that have been sitting there on the website without any means of hearing them. Since there was so much to talk about on just a single Spencer record, there's actually more Spencer records put up since I dug deep into that c. 1895 record of "Mamie!...". Before I get into those Spencer records, I should most certainly dig into Hylands records solely. 
The amount of good Hylands examples has almost doubled on Santa Barbara's website, which is absolutely fantastic. There's one particular example that stands far better than the others, and it's this seemingly modest one:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder14585
Never have I heard such mastery from Hylands. We can hear how well he had perfected the Banjo imitation style he supposedly played. What's genius about this particular take is that he's rarely playing the actual melody with Schweinfest, but he's playing accompanying melodic lines and quick banjo imitation patterns all over the piano. It's also rather shocking to note that the rather slow(but perfect for a cake-walk) tempo is kept constant throughout. This isn't often the case with early examples of authentic improvised Rag-Time. It's records like these where we are reminded why we love Hylands, and it's for that distinct and weird Rag style that is easy to pick out from the others. Of course, after hearing such recordings like this from 1899-1900, it makes me more anxious to hear this:

Such recordings as the subject matter here are good explanations for such compositions by Schweinfest of all people. 
Speaking of Roger Harding(the publisher of the Schweinfest piece), this reminds me of another new transfer that includes Harding. At last, there are a few different takes of "Little Alabama Coon" online. The more takes I've heard have been by Gaskin, which are the best ones, because of that horrid scream he does on each one. While the same little sketch is one every take, one thing can be assured always different, the end piano solo. This particular take is by the Greater New York Quartette, which included Steve Porter and Roger Harding on this record specifically. 
here's the record:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder13403
To be honest, I only listened to this the first time because I knew there would be a dance part piano solo at the end. Supposedly Issler put together the arrangement that we hear Gaskin do, with the song and dance part and everything. That makes no different here however. That solo Hylands plays at the end is perfectly in his style. We even get the bonus of him playing those rare walking bass octaves, which is a distinct characteristic, but one that isn't always present. Like almost every solo by any early studio pianist(after Issler), it has got to be a quote of another song, but this one has me stumped. Most of the time it takes a few listens to get the more obscure musical jokes of the studio pianists. Also, listen to the very end, there's a loud thump! as though something fell over and a voice acknowledging the crash. It's clearly a mistake because it's so abrupt and it caught by some other voices far back there. 

Since there 's another earlier take(the last one is from 1898 or so), that one should be exhibited too. This take is transferred too fast, but it's still Gaskin's original take, likely from 1893 or 1894, which is entirely valuable. 

That's Gaskin around 1895. 
So here's that transfer:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11763
There's that signature scream. I know he's supposed to be a little black kid, but this take is where it sounds absolutely the most hilarious. I'm learning overtime that Gaskin was weird, more so than any of us could imagine. A little Irish leprechaun of a man with lots of energy left vacant from so many slow songs. The wildness comes alive on records such as his 1893 ish "Little Alabama Coon". By the way, the pianist on that is most likely Issler, indicated by the year and circumstances of how around that time I've seen newspaper evidence of Gaskin performing that very tune with Issler. 

Now to move to something that's a little questionable for me. 
Now you all know how much I'm in love with Fred Hager, but I cannot stand his violin records. They are such an infernal racket, and are generally boring selections.

However, Santa Barbara put a few Hager records that are of more interesting selections. The first interesting selection was his "Rag Time Medley", which ought to be good, given the chances are very high Frank P. Banta is the pianist behind him. Here you go:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11744
Just imagine it, pretty Hager looking not too different from how he did above playing violin with Banta. What a beautiful thing to imagine...
There are a few reasons I can't stand Hager's violin records, one is that he's rarely in tune(that's my perfect pitch coming in), and that he slurs notes so much that some of them blend together and make it more out of tune. This particular record is rather entertaining because Banta is keeping the rhythm nice and constant, with added syncopation so complement Hager, but Hager trips all over the place. 
Though, they did seem to put up the best Hager violin solo I've heard so far, and it's from a bit later than expected. 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11385
I had assumed most of his violin records were from 1899 and 1900, but I guess 1901 still works out. At least Banta's still there behind him to keep him from tripping over. For such a virtuoso and matinee idol, you'd think that he would embody the long passed soul of Niccolo Paganini. Hager unfortunately was nowhere close to that, despite his musical status in music conservatories and with symphony musicians all over. He was better at arrangements and keeping bands together turns out. 

Seems we're getting warmer to Spencer, so how about some George W. Johnson? Johnson's records are always different, since the arrangements were basically only based on chord changes and weren't exactly melody driven, each take is very different. We may not exactly know the origins of Johnson's "The Laughing Coon", but it likely had something to do with Banta, just as "the Laughing song" had back in 1894. Of course, the take i'm going to use here is not one of the typical Banta Edison takes, it's another one of those ragged Hylands Columbia takes. 
Unfortunately, this take is transfered really quiet, likely due to it being played quite often in its life of 120 years:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder16897
It's really hard to hear, but from what we can hear of the piano accompaniment, it's really ragged and has all of those signature early Hylands characteristics. If you know the song as well as I do, you should be able to keep track of how the song goes and what might be played at certain times. That's the only way I've been able to understand and pull apart this recording at all, since it's so worn out and quiet. Hopefully I will be able to almost completely transcribe the accompaniment on this record, because in the end, this one is certainly worth the time and effort. This may be a case of pieceing together if anything. 

All right, time to get to that new Spencer transfer!
These are obviously the most exciting new things for me, since Santa Barbara has had quite a few good ones listed for a while, and none have been transferred. Now little by little they're being put up, which is a great way to get them. The one in particular that has been a source of fascination is his c.early 1898 Columbia of "Kentucky Babe". It sounds like it could have been recorded in late-1897, but its most certainly in the early era of Spencer with Hylands(pre publishing firm I mean). 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11394
Unlike every other take I've heard of this tune, this take is quick and jumpy, rather than following the very theme, that Spencer announces at the beginning, of the song(Picanniny Lullaby). That unusual fact makes this record all the more charming though. The piano accompaniment was recorded really well, which makes for a nice balance of Spencer and Hylands, and that's always good. We can hear them both equally, which isn't always the case. I must note, since it peeves me, that Spencer's pitch is not great on this take either, it's too reminiscent of his pre 1896 records...All I can comment on that is that Hylands is there, and his influence of anything addictive is likely present. 
That may also be part of why the song was played quicker and more playful than the slow and calming that it usually was. Who knows, with Spencer and Hylands, anything's possible. 
But what about that accompaniment? Wow. Hylands plays pretty nice throughout the record, playing weird inversions and voicings of chords like usual, but at the whistling solo at the end---all hell breaks loose! The quick and complicated banjo imitation is entirely unexpected. He's playing so many notes it's hard to fathom. It's based on the banjo imitation form, whatever he's playing, but it's got all of those 32nd notes that he was known for. At least we have more evidence of his frequent playing of banjo imitations, this time before 1900, and rather early in his collaborations with Spencer. Rag-Time scholars take note!




Anyway, there are quite a few new transfers I need to get to, but I've exhausted my immediate knowledge for the night, so I've got to leave it here. 

Hope you all enjoyed this!