The mystery of Lambert cylinders

After speaking with my friend Ryan Wishner last evening, we discussed the Lambert cylinder company for a brief period of time, and it got me thinking. Lambert records were the most ingenious invention of the brown wax era, as they were cylinder records that weren't brown wax. These amazingly innovative cylinders began to be sold in 1900, as alternatives to the fragile and subject to wear brown wax cylinders. They did not catch on as easily, as they had strangely dyed colours, that weren't brown wax, as this was at the height of the brown wax era when this happened. Their queer shades of pink, beige, and blue perplexed record buyers. They were a company with strange amounts of repertoire, ranging from specialties by the popular brown wax performers, to strange performances of operatic music by their house orchestra. 

One thing that is so wonderfully distinct about Lambert records was the very well-recorded and loud piano accompaniment. Many collectors wonder how they were able to so well-capture the piano playing better on their records. The piano accompaniment always sounded very loud and clear on these records, better than the clearest Edison with Frank P. Banta, and the loudest Columbia with Spencer and Hylands. 

Who was that pianist? That's really what this comes to here, and being the pianist nut, I must divert to the pianists' styles in order to make more sense of Lambert's friends in record companies. Knowing who the pianist was for Lambert not only says who their pianist was, it also says they they might have had some allies in the record business, as it's certain that they would have employed a pianist from an allied company on the eastern coast of the U. S. But which one? Well, we know that Lambert was not at all allied with Edison, so that immediately eliminates Frank P. Banta, Albert Benzler and Fred Bachmann. Since those three are out, that leaves Booth and Hylands. In fact, those two left are the ones who I have long thought to have been there. Hylands really sounds like he was there, and he wouldn't have minded making special trips out to their studio to make records, especially since he knew they he could be better heard on these records than his Columbia's. just for a good example of this, here's Murray singing "Up in Cocoanut Tree" from 1903. Now this one has some suspicious accompaniment there. The style sounds an awful lot like the 1903 take by: 

you can hear that here.
The two different versions sounds very similar. In fact, they sound more similar to each other than Murray's Victor of it. On Murray's Victor, I can easily tell that it it someone else playing piano, in that, it's probably Fred Bachmann, as Murray once said was his pianist on all those early Victors. 

It really helps when the singers themselves actually said who their pianist was at a certain period of time, it really makes it so much easier. This is exactly why I wish that Jim Walsh didn't eliminate Hylands from his writings, as he would without a doubt be there quite a lot.  

Anyhow, back to those Lamberts. The next one I  will share is one by: 

Len Spencer. 
Now this is a cylinder that I have used on this blog before, but it's very important when trying to understand the piano accompaniments on Lambert records. There aren't too many Rag-Time pieces out there on Lamberts by singers that usually recorded Rag-Time, but this is one of them. 
Here's Spencer's "You've Been a Good Old Wagon" recorded in 1902. 
Now This cylinder has been subjected to debate for many years, since the first time it was used on a CD about 15 years ago. This is one of those few records where collectors immediately were drawn to the piano accompaniment. There aren't too many of those out there, but this one is one of them. It's a record where it's by a singer that most collectors have heard, and the singer is what draws in the collectors, until they listen to the piano accompaniment, which is full of Ragged melodies, without any sort of break in the syncopation. Then they wonder, "Who's that pianist? They're really good!" 

I would assume that the obvious guess was used for the pianist on this--Frank P. Banta. Though, as we know, that cannot be so, for many reasons. It is evident that Spencer was somewhat bitter toward Hylands after the who publishing firm venture in 1900, but they still worked together, as the whole reason that they began the firm in the first place was because they worked well together. It is very possible that Hylands is on this disputed cylinder, and I am convinced that it is him, as Spencer wouldn't have done a hot piece of Rag-Time like this with Banta being in that studio, or Fred Bachmann for that matter. Many of the small things that are played in the accompaniment were Hylands things also, such as how he ends the song, which is really the best indicator on this record, as Spencer is very loud here, and muffles out much of the piano accompaniment. It is not Banta, that's all that needs to be said here, and also that Spencer's rendition of this is very historically accurate to Ben Harney's actual singing style(according to personal accounts from the era). 

This next one is by: 

Yes indeed, Arthur Collins' first recording partner. 

Now this is another one that has caused some debate, mostly because the singer's name is not announced at the beginning, though it's obviously Joe Natus. Here's Natus' "A Bird in the Gilded Cage" recorded in 1900. The piano was very well recorded in this one, which is fantastic! Pretty much every note can be heard here, even with the singer.  Much of the style heard on this cylinder is like----you guessed it, Hylands! It really is though, no kidding. There are almost all of Hylands' stylings on this record, which makes it even easier to identify him here. Other than the obviously revealing solo at the end, there's also some right hand syncopation at some points, that I have only heard Hylands play when recording waltzes. Syncopating waltzes was a very strange thing that Hylands did often, and on this cylinder it's pretty easy to tell, if you're listening closely to the piano that is. Also, that weird chromatic thing that begins at the second chorus is also a Hylands characteristic, as If you've listened to any of the early Columbia records I have used in the past, you would have heard some of that syncopated waltz thing, such as on Myers' "Minnie-Ha-Ha" from 1902(with Hylands). This sort of playing can also be heard even earlier on an 1899 take of "She is More to Be Pitied than Censured", also on this Charles P. Lowe recording of "The Carnival of Venice" from 1898.
I hope that all of those cylinders are enough evidence for that Lambert, and since this next one is also a waltz, these can also be used for the next Lambert.

This next one is by Harry MacDonough, who is not exactly one of my favourites, but he's good to listen to, as he never really missed any notes, and always had good piano accompaniment behind him at Edison and Victor(that would be Banta by the way!). Here's MacDonough (announced as Frank Morgan) "Always in the Way" from 1902-03. Now this one is a dead giveaway to me. The out-of-sync waltz playing with lots if right hand sixteenth notes really is something that Banta never did, and that can be heard in the cylinders listed in the previous paragraph. The ending is also one of Hylands' signature endings. He had about four different endings that he always played, and one of them is the very last thing that he plays on the cylinder above. Just before that last arpeggio, that rolled chord thing is really pretty, and I wish he did that more often, as it has a really rare sound to it that the piano creates that I have never heard any of the other studio pianos at that time make. The only other cylinder that comes to mind right now of Hylands doing that rolled chord thing is on this 1899 cylinder here. He does it primarily at the beginning, but is can be heard a little here and there throughout. I know I've heard more examples of this, I just cannot think of them at the moment. 

While searching around a few minutes ago, I found a great comparison to the Natus cylinder, Steve Porter's version of "A Bird in a Gilded" cage. This one showcases Hylands' frantic playing more than pretty playing in the MacDonough Lambert above. He also makes one very audible mistake at 2:17, that sounds pretty interesting, but it's obviously a mistake. It's sure that Hylands is on the Porter take though, considering the date of the recording(1900). 

Now these next two are cylinders by: 

Collins and Harlan. 
Now these two are very interesting ones, as they may have been recorded on the same day, or at least not far from each other in date. 
Here you go:
Their Lambert of "Hurrah for Baffin's Bay"(music begins at just after 4 minutes...)

their 1903 recording of "Marriage is Sublime"

The first one sounds like Hylands is on piano because of the solo at the end, also from the bars full of sixteenth notes, which as you can kind of hear in the last 30 seconds of Quinn's 1899 cylinder of "She's All-Right". Now the reason I think Hylands is on the second on here is because of that specific way that he plays that twelfth chord at the beginning of the intro. That is something that Hylands often put into one of his signature endings, and in intros just like the one on this very cylinder. The second cylinder listed can be very well compared with this 1903 cylinder here. It's not only transferred in the same key, and, once again, he does that twelfth thing that I just spoke of in the intro! The cylinders are also from the same year, so that helps. Next step for comparison would be to find Collins and Harlan's Columbia of "Marriage is Sublime", which was recorded around the same time, that way, we'd be pretty set and sure here. But really, when I saw that these two Lamberts were made by Collins and Harlan, I immediately thought that Hylands was probably on piano, considering their very good relationship in the studio, at Columbia that is. 

Now since I have done all this comparing, listen to these Lamberts and find out for yourself if you think it's Hylands.

S. H. Dudley's "Whistling Bowery Boy" from 1903

Harry MacDounough's "My Own United States" from 1903
here's a Columbia take of this: http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder7430

Ossman's "Hunky Dory" recorded in 1902(there's some good Ragged piano playing here!)




Before I end for the day, I must share a fun Silas Leachman record that a kind record collector put up a few days ago. Now it's a fun song, with some wild Ragged piano playing! 
Leachman's "I Don't Care if I Never Wake Up" from 1901
Of the few Leachman Victor's I think Hylands is on, this is one of them. 
That wild solo at the beginning give it away, as I have heard him do that at the beginning of Gaskin's "My Wild Irish Rose" from 1899. I don't really know what he's trying to do in that weird solo at the beginning... But it's strange and interesting all the same! Now in case any of you didn't notice the lyrics in this song, other than it being a typical "coon song", there were these lines:

"At a Chinese Laundry he hangs around..."
and also, "A pipe full of dope he bought."

There you go folks, that's 1901 for ya. How ironic that Fred Hylands is playing so wildly behind Leahcman here! Anyway it's a great piece of Rag-Time nonetheless. 

I won't be able to post until about next Tuesday, because I'm taking a trip to Missouri for the Scott Joplin Festival! Until then, keep listening geeks! 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

A Theater pianist and other New Discoveries

After digging through some information about Burt Green, Ada Jones, and looking back at those 1900 Phonoscope sections, I have found some interesting items. I also looked through much of the issues available online of The New York Clipper, which also allowed for a good bounty of information and interesting advertisements. Of the many things I found about Fred and Etta Hylands, I did not see anything speaking of Hylands' clearly long time and  important engagement as Columbia's house pianist from 1897 to c.1904-05. It's very strange how that whole Columbia thing just passed over everyone's heads, though it's clearly where his trouble started, and its effects haunted him for the rest of his life(If you've ever noticed, Hylands weighed the most while working at Columbia...). I guarantee it, if you look up Fred in any of those theatrical magazines, you won't find anything about him being a studio pianist. It's very bizarre, you'll find Frank Banta being known as a "phonograph pianist", but not Hylands. Take this for example:

 (from Professor Bill's website)
"By the consolidated pianist of Phonograph Fame"
Yep, that's what Banta was known for, even to all the big publishers(including Hylands when he became one!). But, wait a moment, there's this here:

OH! He was on salary! That's right. Durr...
Jeez! Hope you're starting to see why it's very bizarre why you just don't see anything about his commitment to Columbia ANYWHERE. Wow, all the more reason for Jim Walsh to completely avoid writing about Hylands of his perhaps hundreds of fantastic articles. If Walsh was trying to be truly frank with the articles and notes he had, Hylands would have been mentioned hundreds of times. That's only if he mentioned that the pianist accompanied the singer(main subject of the article) was Hylands, and with that, he could have even done one of his specialty biographies on Hylands. That would have saved much of the headache I've had in trying to search around for any scraps of information on Hylands. Even in the November, 1913 issue of The Clipper, where they do a short section on him, there isn't at all any mentioning of the whole Columbia venture:

This little section was a little important, as it provided the information that most people knew him for. As according to every source in that time(other than The Phonoscope) Hylands was known for being a music director, B. F. Keith's prized pianist(of many they had...), one of the best stage accompanists in vaudeville, and that eccentric vanity publisher(like that they mentioned that...). Nothing about his revolutionary publishing firm with Len Spencer and Harry Yeager, his love and adoration at Columbia, or that he was one of the first popular Rag-Time pianists. Now the fact that they didn't mention the Rag-Time part of Hylands is very surprising, as certainly, by 1913, those earliest Rag pianists were beginning to truly get recognition for the fad they helped begin, which, as we well know, was still on by 1913.  Another thing that the section above indicates is that Hylands had been performing in vaudeville since about 1890, which we know is true, but it is indicated that he began as a B. F. Keith pianist, though of course, as expected, they would not dare to mention his lesser contributions that really were obviously the key to his playing style---playing in low-class clubs and saloons. 

Some of the other sections I found included many indications of the openings for the shows that Hylands directed and wrote himself. One of these sections included this:

Heh, imagine him standing on that stage giving a speech to everyone, that's a fantastic thing to picture. Wonder what he said in those speeches...

Ha! I have heard conflicting opinions about this show of Fred's. This one is, as seen, a much more positive and kind word to Hylands' fantastic talent with the parody. Two notable names in the above section other than Fred's, there are also the names of J. Grant Gibson, and Marie Hylands. J Grant Gibson was a long-time friend of Fred's from after being thrown out of Columbia and joining the White Rats Union in 1905. Hylands created a friendship with Gibson much like the one he had with Burt Green and Len Spencer back in 1898-1900. It was with Gibson that he began his second-to-last publishing firm, and wrote this piece here: 

(from my collection)

Without Len Spencer, that signature decorative footer was no more...

Yes indeed, both Hylands and Gibson were on this sheet music, and it's no coincidence that Hylands chose to write and publish with Gibson over everyone else he knew at that time. The other sections that I found this evening include these here: 

"A cyclone hit", gotta love 1900's slang.

Something odd about these two sections is that they were both featured in the same edition of The Clipper in 1905. That must have brought on the competition factor between the two of them, not that it wasn't already present. These siblings were certainly in the same business at the same time, and this is clearly indicated by these two advertisements here. The other section I found is this one:

Well, at least the cause of death is indicated, but it's pretty obvious that it was that what killed him. Though, of course, it can be very certainly assume that it was more than just diabetes that killed him. He certainly was some sweet piano man, I can tell you that! Pardon my very morbid pun. Anyhow, these sections were very interesting, and I stumbled upon them when I was just looking for all of those sections about Ben Harney in The Clipper from 1897 to 1900, but like a heap of the wonderful resources out there that we know exist, they are not yet on the Internet, for good researchers and nerds to freak out about.

(Harney at left and John Biller at right)
 Many of those sections included reviews of Harney's acts with his wife Jesse, and even some compared to Mike Bernard's playing where he imitated Harney. Of course, also I bet if someone was to digitize those for everyone to have a chance to see them , we probably would see reviews of shows at Huber's Museum by Ada Jones with piano accompaniment by Burt Green. Burt Green would probably be listed in many of them. And this would even be so in the 1900 issues speaking of the events going on at B. F. Keith's theater, that way, we'd see Hylands listed a whole lot more(as indicated by the section just above). This is also indicated by this section in The Phonoscope from May 1900:

Yep. That's the one. 
That must have been the time that he got the job there the second time. By that I mean that he had been there for at least one season before 1900, as said in one of the other sections here. The Phonoscope  indicated in their July, 1898 issue though that he was also pianist at Tony Pastor's theater(probably in late-1896 or early-1897, though no exact date was given) but, Keith's was also indicated in that same section. 

Something just came to mind, Edison's talent scouts didn't really get the best of the best when they went out to grab their staff members. Their dynamic was a little different from Columbia's. Edison's scouts hired performers who were somewhat amateur on the stage, and they took them in so they could become big stars. Columbia's dynamic was to stay with the handful of regulars they got, but only hire the best of vaudeville and dramatic performance. Think about it, Arthur Collins pretty much failed as an operetta and minstrel performer before Edison took him in to have him be an announcer for them in 1897. In 1898, Collins became one of the newest big stars of the recording business, one finally to combat Len Spencer's overwhelming monopoly in the area of the "Coon Song". Spencer fleetingly learned of this competition, and probably laughed at how much of a miserable failure Collins had been as a minstrel man, compared to his own extraordinary skills as a salesman and minstrel man. Collins proved him wrong, and Spencer's popularity began to significantly drop by 1906(the same year that he lost the sight in his right eye!). This Edison dynamic can also apply to Frank P. Banta, Byron G. Harlan, Harry MacDonough, and even Edward Meeker. Harlan wasn't really a failure exactly, but he was a very darn good amateur, as many of the early management staff there put it. Most of these Edison artists were under-appreciated before they got hired on to their staff, even someone like Frank P. Banta had the same sort of hard luck in the business, though I think that being Sylvester Ossman's pianist got him some much-deserved status in vaudeville, much earlier on than going off to Chicago to begin his phenomenal orchestra. Banta was no musical director with cute charisma(like Hylands) though. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Billy Heins, the long-lived minstrel

I realized this evening that I had never spoken at all about this man on this blog. He is a very mysterious and interesting character in the early recording business. My dear collector friend Craig Ventresco has a very clear affinity with Billy Heins' voice and singing style overall, which means that he has several of his relatively few records. He made only just a handful or so of Zon-O-phone's in 1900 and 1901, which as I have been told, are VERY uncommon to find anywhere. Here you can hear Heins singing "Strike up the Band" from 1901.

I kind of see why my friend Craig likes him so much. 

He started making records in 1899 where he can be heard on all of those minstrel brown wax cylinders that Edison put out at that time. The cast of these productions usually consisted of Arthur Collins, S. H. Dudley, Billy Williams(whom I don't know anything about unfortunately!), Harry MacDonough, and several more in the cast. Here are a few of these cylinders:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/5000/5222/cusb-cyl5222d.mp3

https://archive.org/details/JustOneGirlByBillyWilliamsAndS.H.Dudley1899

https://archive.org/details/EDIS-SRP-0202-22

(nice mispronouncing of "Potpourri" Collins!)

Collins was always an absolute riot on those 1899 minstrel cylinders! 

Anyhow, amid that mix of familiar voices, is that of Billy Heins. I cannot pick him out of the mix personally, and I don't really know of anyone who has done so yet. The only reason he is known to be there is because he was written to be there and remembered to be present at those sessions by artists who lived a long time. This is also because he made a few solos appertaining to the minstrel show process, with the overtures, dancing, and solo vocalists, in which Heins was one of. 

He stayed with Edison for only 1899, and resumed recording again for Zon-O-Phone in 1900 and into 1901. After that, he was dormant from recording for a few years, he returned to the studios in 1904, this time for the American record company. This company was the one who made those blue coloured records with the Indian smoking the peace pipe on the label, one of which is seen here:

They are certainly among the most beautiful labels that ever were made prior to 1910. And other than just appearing beautiful, they sounded fantastic too! 

So here is one of Heins' Blue American records, this one is called "Pepita Maguire" from 1904.

I have actually had the chance to hold and play a pristine copy of the exact record in the link above. Heins made a few blue American records, but not enough to be called a "regular" in their studio. I wouldn't really consider him a "regular" in any of the studios he worked at anyhow, as he didn't make enough records to really sustain work from a single company. He again remained dormant from recording for a few years after 1905, and this time, he didn't return until 1917. When he came back, he replaced Billy Golden's performance partner James Marlowe(who was probably about as old as Golden when he died in 1915). He made a handful of records with Golden from 1917 to 1921, which was toward the end of Golden's life interestingly enough. 

Here are two of these records, one is a cylinder, the other is a disc.

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/5000/5565/cusb-cyl5565d.mp3

https://archive.org/details/GoldenAndHeins-TowserIsDead

I just found out as I was doing this research on Heins this evening, that he was playing the banjo on all of those records he did with Golden! I didn't realize that, and it really makes sense, even if I had never known that he played the banjo. 

He completely disappeared after 1920. So to clear something up, I really don't know anything about Billy Heins other than the records he made, I just know that he was a minstrel man who just happened to play the banjo, and was taken in by someone at Edison in 1899. I don't know where he came from, or what he did other than recording(which may have been minstrel shows and vaudeville). He needs to be found out more, as he's pretty much completely obscure in the early recording business, even more so than Fred Hylands. 

To put his obscurity into perspective, Fred Hylands was at least mentioned as a popular pianist in the old recording artist books back from the 1970's and 1980's, not once was Billy Heins listed there.  That really says a whole lot about Heins. His lifespan is not really even confirmed, but he did live a very long time. His birth date is estimated as November 29, 1874, and he is believed to have died in July of 1971. Yes, he would have been 96 when he died. I can believe that somehow. As he wasn't a hardcore recording artist like Len Spencer or Vess Ossman, and it wouldn't seem that he was too popular all around as a performer. He did also manage to stay pretty "off the grid'' from all these wild recording stars as well, that in itself is amazing. He would have out-lived literally everyone he knew at the recording studio, and everyone he had heard of, but never really met(also, he outlived many of his friends' children!). That---is amazing. Here is a brief list of who he would have outlived:

Arthur Collins, Byron G. Harlan, Vess Ossman, Frank Banta(both Frank Bantas, Frank P. died in 1903, Frank E. died in 1968), Len Spencer, Billy Golden, Fred Van Eps(died in 1960), Fred Hylands, Harry MacDonough, Edward Favor, Billy Murray, George Gaskin, Steve Porter, Joe Belmont, Silas Leachman, Russell Hunting, Dan W. Quinn, Albert Campbell, Max Hoffman, etc, etc, etc.

Pretty extraordinary! I think it's a real pity that he was never interviewed later, as I'm sure he would have had the same amount of stories as Joe Belmont did. I still have yet to learn about Heins' life, and if anyone has any information, please comment on this post with information! 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Russell Hunting with some advice and Liberal thinking

Russell Hunting, 1897(from my own art)

Among the genius things that Russell Hunting did for the recording business, he started up The Phonoscope in November of 1896, and when he started this up, he wrote some very funny and informative sections when he had a larger role in the magazine's actual content and publication. Hunting was a very liberal thinker, and always had the future and the latest of things on his mind. He was one of the few earliest recording artists who knew that the records he made would last for 100 years, and maybe even more. When I  am reminded that Hunting thought this, the only thing I can think about when I listen to the few surviving smut cylinders he made is that in the back of his mind, he knew someone would be listening to his voice uttering those nasty words generations after he made it. 
Since his voice had several different shades and sides to it, he could disguise his voice easily, even when he used pseudonyms. But of course, there were certain ways he said things that gave it away. It gave away that it was Mr. "Michael Casey" who was speaking. His smut cylinders were popular, but they all knew who it was speaking the words. His voice was too distinctive:
https://archive.org/details/TheOldManAndJimByRussellHunting1894
The people who didn't know of him just knew him as "The Original Casey", not Russell Hunting. 
The man was a genius, he knew that he would eventually get in legal trouble for his cylinders, but it lasted longer than he probably would have thought(which must have been a kick for him!). After all that legal trouble, he returned a hero after three months in prison. 
What Hunting did on records was what he really was as a person, not giving a rap whatsoever of what the big politicians and people who ran the country wanted. He made records for the people, the majority of people, in America, and all over the world(later he did). Hunting didn't really give too much advice in The Phonoscope, but his sections are really the best of the best when it comes to that magazine. He gave out lots of advice to exhibitors of various talking machines, and since he's in this picture:

We can very well assume that this exhibition went very well and was very successful. Whenever Hunting was at an exhibition, you knew it was going to be a good one. 
His advice looked a lot like these sections here:

The first one is exhibtor advice, the second one is general advice. Other than this, there were stories he recalled from his earliest days in the recording business, which funny lines in them, such as this one:

In this section, he was recalling when he was first starting out in the business and began experimenting with his own horns, which as the quote above suggests, were made of those things. 
He wasn't in the business for the frivolous things like sacred songs and old minstrel music(like Steve Porter and Len Spencer were!), he was in the business for creation, new ideas, realistic thinking, new music, and comedy. Even after a decade of traveling in Europe and beginning a new century, he was still formulating those new progressive ideas he always had. By 1916, he was back in the U. S. as the manager of all the Pathe company, which was no small thing. In 1916, a new style of music came to the public's ears, "jass" as it was called. Before the big explosion of "Jass" in 1917, Hunting did one small thing in '16 that was just as jazzy as he could be. Fred Van Eps spoke in the 1940's of Russell Hunting allowing a saxophone player in Van Eps' trio, only because John MacDonald(Harry MacDonough) just didn't find the idea attractive enough. How Hunting got a big score on that. MacDonald felt ashamed by this and immediately allowed the Sax player just after their first Pathe was released. It was not only forward thinking of Van Eps, but also of Hunting, as within a year, Jazz became an official style everywhere, with the saxophone as one of the style's most important instruments. 

This didn't end Hunting's great decisions though, in 1918 and 1919, many collectors may notice a handful of records by James Reese Europe's band. All of these records are Pathe's. So we know who the person who decided to have this was, Russell Hunting. The members of the 369th infantry band were invited several times in early 1919 to Pathe to make their many famous records, under the obliging and supervision of Russell Hunting. This was the best thing he did in my opinion, it really doesn't get better than that.  The Jim Europe band was the best black band of its day, and Hunting gladly hosted them at Pathe, and paid them all very well, probably just as much as all the prestigious white artists. They really are the most groovy records of early jazz, here is my favourite of them:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gftl8zClfUQ
Pathe was really the only compny who could accommodate the whole band and get a decent sound, as Hunting did all these weird and progressive tricks to make their recording room the best of its kind. 

Hunting still did shows and talks occasionally after his term in the managing chair at Pathe ended in 1926. They were mostly for benefits of other things than recording, though he did do some things like that occasionally, some of which even included reviving his "Casey" character.
He is a figure in the early recording business who should never be forgotten for all that he did, even if he is still pretty obscure to-day, and disliked for his policial views and his few surviving records. 

I hope you enjoyed this!