Showing posts with label Joseph Natus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph Natus. Show all posts

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Analyzing some fun records

While digging for recordings for the last post, I found some fantastic transfers on the way, which is usually what happens when doing that. Just before I finished the last post, I came across a fantastic and wild recording by these two:
Yes indeed. 
Their records are highly valued by record collectors, since in some ways, their harmony was better than Collins with Harlan, and they made fewer records. Of course, there isn't the same charm that Collins and Harlan had, but with Hylands behind either duo, the studio was always a hot time! 
The first record that really caught my attention was a curious 1902 Lambert of "McManus and the Parrot", and it was pretty wild to start! 
My god! Natus is a riot as a parrot! 
Wow, that was unexpected... 
Natus wasn't too often a hilarious and wild character, but sometimes it comes out, like it does when he's the parrot at the beginning of the cylinder. It must be noted that Natus was a minstrel performer in the early 1890's(in the same troupe as Byron Harlan strangely enough!), so it's not too strange to hear him do that, it's just a little out-of-place because he didn't do that on his recordings for some reason. The piano accompaniment is interesting on this Lambert as well, since it's pretty quiet for a Lambert, and it's a little strange, especially since it's one of those Lambert's where the piano was very out-of-tune. For whatever reason, some earlier Lambert's had some piano tuning issues, and sometimes the piano sounded unbearably awful. This one just happens to be one of those records. You can especially hear how awful the piano sounds at the solo at the very end. A great Lambert record overall!
Also, if you get a chance to hear the Collins and Harlan version of this on Columbia from later 1902, you really should listen! It's one of those especially fun Collins and Harlan records with Hylands as an added bonus!
This next one is also by the same duo, but it's an early one for them, in fact, it's got a very strange announcement by Collins, he's got their names reversed! Here's the record:
"Coon Coon Coon" by Collins and Natus from mid-1901.
It's not too often that fantastic Brown waxes like this one come across, but this one is exceptional for 1901. It's played a little too fast, but other than that, you can hear all the bass notes very clearly! It's not exceptional in the content, as i've heard better takes of this by Collins and Natus, but the quality of the recording it very much so, it would be better if it wasn't transferred so fast. 

To stay on Collins and Natus, another recording that is very interesting from this same batch this morning, there was a 1902 Victor of "I got Mine" by them. It's a very interesting recording in terms of piano accompaniment. As for the pianist, I'm pretty sure it's Banta, since it's got most of his characteristics, and I've heard a 1901 Brown wax of this by them, also with Banta, and it has a lot of the same characteristics. It's an exceptional example of early Rag-Time on a recording, and it's not with Fred Hylands. The quality of the piano balancing is better than other Victor's out there, but the accompaniment is not the most perfect, but of course, that don't matter here. Every version of this song is very interesting, even Collins and Harlan's early 1905 version(Hylands is on piano by the way, even if it was recorded in 1905!). Since it's pestering me, that one C octave at 19 seconds in on the Collins and Natus version above is really getting on my nerves! It reveals the out-of-tune piano, almost as bad as that Lambert farther up in the post...


Now to transition to George W. Johnson. Other than all the baggage that came along with Columbia employing Johnson, his recordings are still widely enjoyed, and used quite often by people who aren't experienced record scholars. That's a good thing! Of course, most people aren't going to sit there and wonder who that pianists all the time, but I can't just listen without wondering and sorting through my logic as to who the pianist might be. It has been established before on this blog that the original transfer Johnson's 1891 recording of "The Whistling Coon" was played too fast, and unfortunately, that was the transfer that went onto the CD Lost Sounds put out by Archeophone. Now that we've slowed it down, it seems that we can now use this recording as reference for slowing down other recordings of his, and it's just how Charlie Judkins and I are doing this now. 
We start with the newer transfer: 
https://archive.org/details/GeorgeWJohnsonWhistlingCoonIssler1891
Still an amazing recording. 
Now that we listened to that one, and took in the tone and range of Johnson's it can be used to slow down a record such as Johnson's famous "Laughing Song", so make it sound like this:
https://archive.org/details/JohnsonsLaughingSong1898
It was shocking to hear it at such a perfect and pure speed. It's at exactly the right speed according to the 1891 "Whistling Coon" record, and it brings out the idiosyncrasies of Hylands' playing, as well as his mistakes. This take has a whole lot more mistakes that you might think. Again, the more records we adjust to the right speed, the more we keep debunking old stereotypes and preconceptions of these old recordings. Just to put this into perspective, here's the original transfer:
https://ia802307.us.archive.org/20/items/GeorgeWJohnson/GeorgeWJohnson-TheLaughingSongCoonSong.mp3
It just sounds so much better, after hearing the newly slowed down transfer. 
For an interesting comparison, here's Denny's 1898 Columbia of "Time is money", and really what to listen for here, is the solo at the end. Not only is Hylands playing very good Rag-Time, but he's playing a certain inversion of the C7 chord in the left hand that he also plays exactly the same way on Johnson's "Laughing Song". You can hear the chord I mean in all of the interludes between chorus and verse on the recording. Also, that solo that Hylands plays at the end of the Johnson record no only falls apart almost completely, but he's playing the chorus to "Mister Johnson, Turn Me Loose"(Whoa, that's a very odd coincidence...). Hmm, think we've spotted another signature thing of Hylands'. That is something that he played behind Billy Golden on his 1899 Columbia of "Turkey in the Straw", it's the same end solo! How typical of Hylands, playing one of the most popular "rag" songs of the 1890's! It seems Hylands loved playing those 1896 rags! Hmm, maybe because he was performing them IN 1896(with a hint of sarcasm)...

The two songs that Hylands used as a default end tag are these:
"All Coons Look Alike to Me"
"Mister Johnson Turn me Loose"

Those are the two songs that were used in the Rag-Time competitions of the mid and late 1890's, which says that Hylands probably participated in them when they came around. They are the ones that Mike Bernard earned all of those awards from, and where he got the name "The Rag-Time King" from, it now can be assumed that Hylands joined in the contest, and played "All Coons Look Alike to Me" in that fantastic way of his, but of course was thrown out of the competition by Bernard's charm.That didn't matter of course when Hylands became the main pianist at Columbia in 1898. It is very interesting that Hylands used both of those songs as a default end tag, because I've heard many recordings that have this. It also is another way to help secure Hylands as the pianist on the recording, though there are other ways, it is a good place to start if it happens to be there. It's very interesting that Hylands just happened to choose that song of Harney's, it must raise some suspicion. We can well assume that Hylands was one of those many Harney "fanboys", that were also outstanding accompanists in the time. In this category would include Burt Green, Sidney Perrin, and many other popular early "rag" composers. Of course someone like Max Hoffmann and Dave Reed jr. are in their own category, because they didn't use Harney's melodies in their own songs. Hylands seems to have fit in the "fanboy" category now, especially after spotting another one of these recordings with that Harney end tag. 


Hope you enjoyed this! 

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

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! 









Tuesday, January 19, 2016

More on Columbia Rag-Time vs. Edison Rag-Time

Since the UCSB website is working again, I will continue my post from yesterday evening. I meant to showcase these two records by the Peerless Orchestra yesterday:
here's "Ma Tiger Lily" by the Peerless Orchestra, 1900

It was also intended that I use their version of "Whistling Rufus" from 1899(with an introduction by Arthur Collins)

These are both very tasteful selections of Rag-Time chosen by Frank Banta. The renditions(there's two takes on the page!) of "Whistling Rufus" are especially fantastic, because of the very syncopated melodies paired with the straight march melodies of the song. That was something that the Columbia orchestra didn't do too often, as much as Banta did with the Edison orchestra. Also what I meant to share yesterday were a few more of Banta's and Collins' brown wax cylinders. 
This first one is one that Len Spencer also recorded with Fred Hylands around the same time(if not in the same month or so!)and on the list of Columbia cylinders from my last post, you can actually see it listed. 
Here's "All I Wants Is My Chickens", from late-1898(by Collins with Banta)
It's just about as good as Rag-Time on cylinders could get from pre-1900, and Banta's playing can be very well dissected on this one, more than usual. You can actually hear him hit a fifth on the last chord(which was something that was characteristic to his playing!), and you can actually hear all of those bass notes, more so than many brown wax Edison cylinders. 
I would like to hear Spencer and Hylands' version of the song though, that would certainly make for a fascinating comparison. If anyone has the brown wax Columbia of "All I Wants Is My Chickens" by Len Spencer, comment on this post!(the catalog number is 7446). 

This next Collins and Banta selection is a fantastically hot Rag number entitled "Lam Lam Lam", recorded in 1901*just a nerdy Rag-Time note, this song was written by  Benjamin Jerome, the composer of the "A Bunch of Rags" medley in 1898, and it's not Ossman's!*. 
Banta really plays his tail off on this one! Not every note is clearest, but you can certainly hear how he's playing everything! This is just about how hot Banta could get on Edison's piano, and all his musical traits are present. I have heard this record countless times, and am still hearing things I didn't hear before. Just as I'm writing this, I just noticed this audible deep note at about 2:05-06. Banta hits the deeper note of the octave first, then the higher note, almost like Hylands did on hundreds of Columbia records. There's so much to hear on this cylinder, and it takes a few listens to really get the gist of what Banta plays. 

Meanwhile, at Columbia--- Collins began working there in 1901, starting with working with 
Yes, that guy. Aside from working with Natus, Collins made some fantastic Rag-Time records with Fred Hylands, in 1901 and 1902. 
It's when you can hear records like this one:
Collins singing Cole and Johnson's "My Castle on the Nile" in 1902
That's pretty wild for Hylands, but not the most he'd been before that. He did show off his style on this cylinder by playing lots of broken walking octaves. It's somewhat amazing really, the way Hylands plays on this one is nothing less of genius. 
Hylands must have been showing off on the last one, like he usually did, but a little more so that usual on that one. In 1901-1903, Collins and Hylands did turn out some excellent Rag-Time records. There are one's like this from 1901
Like this one,
and of course, this one.
There's not a way to choose which one if better than the others, as they're all perfect examples of genuine Rag-Time. Yes, I know, you get a white singer, and a white pianist, but you do get "Chicago Professor" playing Rag-Time freely as he would, with not much changed from his "very 1896" Rag style(if you know what I mean...). As I mentioned in my last post, I mentioned that Hylands also was at Leeds in 1903. In bringing Leeds back to the picture, you get records like this one, from 1903. Now this is a weird one. It's Collins with the "Leeds Orchestra", which could have composed of many known or unknown musicians. One thing is for sure, Hylands was their pianist. There is not a doubt that Hylands would have been dragged in to Leeds rather than Banta, only because Banta was leading the Metropolitan orchestra still in '03, and was still Edison's regular pianist. Having him work for Leeds would have been far too much work than he already bore. This Leeds record has a fantastic piano part, and for some odd reason, it's pretty much the loudest instrument in the whole ensemble(other than the flutes). That's one thing that also indicates Hylands on the piano, also because the tempo for the song and the sense of rhythm are far too good to be anyone like Banta or Albert Benzler(it couldn't be Benzler anyway, but he's an option because he was Banta's sub at Edison in 1903.)  Columbia's house orchestra in this time was also a great source for Rag-time, as they turned out tunes like "Dixie Girl"(which you can hear here.)"Peaceful Henry", "Virginia Skedaddle", "HoneySuckle and the Bee"(you can hear it on a Climax record here!) and many more great Hylands arrangements. 
Hylands led the orchestra every time they made recordings, no matter who it was who did the arrangement, as he's loud, pushy with tempo, demanding of attention. That could certainly he said with the record of "HoneySuckle and the Bee", as for some reason, they go into a little bit of a tango time section at the end, that had to be of the devising of Fred Hylands(because it's not in the written music!).
Now I meant to share this cylinder yesterday, and it's that cylinder with this piece on it:
Yep, that's it. I wish I owned a copy of the original sheet music, but I don't ,and I haven't any friends who might have it. Anyhow, enough explaining, here's Hylands' almost mess of arrangement of his own, self-published, "Darkey Volunteer(s)" recorded in mid-1898(excuse the home recording just after the music ends...)
There's so many weird things that went into the making of this piece of music, and the creation of this recording. 

One: Hylands hadn't had the means to publish the tune until 6 months after he wrote it.
Two: He didn't have anyone who wanted to publish it, so in order to solve that problem, he had  to do it all himself, EVERYTHING. 
Three: He found that after he recorded this with Ossman in about July of 1898, he dedicated it to Ossman, as seen above^^
 Four: He hand-wrote all the arrangement parts for all the members of the orchestra, and they must have just LOVED(sarcastically), having to read those...
It's a hell of an arrangement, and there's  so much going on at the same time that it's hard to keep up with the amount of sounds that are going. But that's the beauty of Hylands and his music, it was all exquisitely tangled up in his mind, until he found a way to make it somewhat less perplexing to the musicians who had to read it. It's still very hard and strange music to read, and to listen to. That's Hylands for ya. 

I'm not really sure it you'd consider "The Darker Volunteer" a Rag-Time piece, but it must have been considered that in its day, and perhaps by the composer himself, who hadn't a title(or a written score) of it until about a month after he had the idea sprouting. Banta was a little less scattered. 

Banta was one who had his idea, and then got to writing it down the night after it came to mind, not letting it linger and somehow recollecting the melodies, after a multitude of harsh drinks. Banta had more music written out, and more arrangements full and ready for the musicians to read. They didn't always fall together so well with the Metropolitan orchestra, such as on this mess here. Yes, that record is pretty much the definition of the music falling apart, but it's still interesting, because if you're listening close enough, you can hear Banta count them off at the beginning, like he did so often.  The problem with Banta leading an orchestra is that he was rushy, and pushed the rhythm sometimes, so that can be uncomfortable to some of the other band members. But minus the tangled up ones like "The Sleighing Party", there are also fantastic Rag/Cakewalk arrangements by Banta, such as his great and very "tight" arrangement of Kerry Mills' lesser known Cake-Walk "Impecunious Davis" recorded in 1901. That is an outstanding early recording of Rag-Time, enough said, Banta did well on that one. 

Well, there's so many more great examples, but I would need to save them for other posts, as I've exhausted much of the material I know of off-the-top-of-my- head, more will come soon! 


I hope you enjoyed this! 








Sunday, November 29, 2015

Character Studies---Byron G. Harlan(1861-1936)

I don't really understand why I neglect to speak about Byron Harlan very much anymore(and yes, I will do a post on Arthur Collins!) He had a very long an interesting story, that many record historians are now starting to examine more closely, and have found some small things that were bigger roles in his life than previously thought. Harlan was a kind "country-yap" as many would have called him, with a wonderful voice and a great sense of mimicry. He was a professionally trained singer who originally learned to sing opera back in 1880's Chicago. After getting very well-trained vocally and musically, he took these skills with him when he began to tour around in vaudeville troupes and light opera companies. By 1892, he was a very popular singer, at that time he was under the famous Charles Hoyt, doing a few shows here and there on Broadway. By 1895, he was a theatrical director and ran his own company that functioned as a vaudeville group and a minstrel show. Harlan was at each of these performances playing some important role, either singing, or being the "middle-man" of the minstrel show. By 1897, he was a success, doing several shows a week in varying east coast theaters. In 1898, Harlan was performing solo at many popular stages, from Huber's to Pastor's theater. This was the year that he met all the famous recording stars, which in many ways must have been completely by accident. He met Fred Hylands, Len Spencer, Burt Green, Ada Jones, and a handful more. This is really when they start to consider him for hire at Columbia. For some reason, this never happened when it should have, even though Hylands proudly advertised Harlan on covers of his sheet music in 1899(hmm...). It was the boys at Edison that found him and took him in first, they were quicker to make up their minds than Hylands and his crew. Since Edison hired him first, Columbia held back to take him until 1901.  He was an immediate hit with Mr. Edison himself, as for some reason, Walter Miller liked Harlan so much, that he must have told "the old man" that he would enjoy to have Harlan sing at his very exclusive dinner parties. Edison did just that, and invited Harlan to many of these exclusive gatherings, which in many ways, gave Harlan a sort of authority over many of the other artists coming in, like Arthur Collins, Harry MacDonough, Will F. Denny, Frank P. Banta, and most of the regulars at that time. Edison was on close terms with Harlan until Edison died in the early 30's. Harlan was said to have been one of the few who could actually call Edison "Tom" in his presence, and that's saying a whole lot. When Columbia hired Harlan in 1901, he wasn't an immediate success with them, as Hylands liked him, but not really the rest of the staff. It wasn't until 1902 that he really started to gain some ground, as when Arthur Collins proved he had had enough of Joseph Natus, that sparked an even better idea for the Victor and Edison people. Collins and Harlan was finally created in October of 1902, by the staff at Victor. When this duo was created, it started a whole now chapter in Harlan's life, as he was no longer dealing with everyone around him, it was then Collins that he would be dealing with for the next twenty-three years. 


Harlan was an interesting character in the studio, much to the likeness of Fred Hylands. He and Fred seemed like two peas in a pod, even if Hylands was just his accompanist at Columbia only. He owned the room when he entered it, whether it be Columbia or Edison, or even Victor, but this was before Arthur Collins. When Arthur Collins came along, Harlan could not own the room any longer. Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands was really a very strong and fun group to witness at Columbia, as they knew Hylands like a book, and they practically knew all the cues he would give, even if they didn't really know what he was trying to play. It was really comical, as half the time, Hylands was louder than Collins and Harlan. If they had known it, they both would have thrown Hylands out. But when those sessions were on, it was three ego powerhouses in one, so whoever had the most power was able to shine through the best, and for some reason, Hylands was able to rule over Collins and Harlan sometimes. And he was just the piano player! It must have broken Harlan's heart to hear that Hylands was dropped from Columbia's staff in later 1905, but that was when Collins and Harlan was really a big money-making asset for the record companies. It was really a great idea, as they were both not really outstanding solo artists before 1901, so putting them together made them even stronger singers. It worked invariably. The record buyers loved their harmonization, and their wonderful vaudeville-style sketches on many of the records. Harlan was still a successful solo artist, making numerous records for Victor, Columbia, Zon-O-Phone, Leeds, and Edison. He remained just as popular as Collins, even though Collins was singing all that "Ragtime" and "Coon songs". Harlan was singing all those pretty sentimental songs, and occasionally doing a "rube'' sketch with Frank Stanley. He and Frank Stanley were also a popular duo, as they blended very well, and Stanley was a much more modest fellow to cool the ego factor in the recording rooms. By 1908, Collins and Harlan were a common name on records, just as much as Len Spencer's was ten years before. They were recording all the Rag-Time, popular songs, and occasionally an older minstrel number. Harlan was a seemingly nice and amiable fellow, but when he worked with Collins, it was a little different. Harlan was very particular about things, but so was Collins, so many small conflicts came and went. They argued about songs they wanted to do sometimes, only one argument has been documented in full, but it is certain that they had many more of them along the way. Collins openly stated that he was the more important member of the duo, and that did not stand well with Harlan, as Harlan thought a similar way about this role, even though they were both equally popular no matter where year it was in their partnership. If their popularity was down, both their careers would suffer, if their popularity was up, they would both share the success. There was no better member other duo, so all of that conflict was useless. By the mid-teen's however, they were dropping in popularity, as they were singers who had been in the business since the late-1890's, and it was very rare for 1890's recording stars to remain popular in the business for twenty years. They had achieved this, as by 1922, they were still making records as Collins and Harlan, even if they were not really that popular by 1917. Edison's staff just couldn't let them go, as Mr. Edison still really liked them as people and recording artists. Harlan was no longer a popular artist by 1924, so he only made records occasionally, as he had the money from recording to enjoy his semi-retirement. Collins was gone by 1925, taking his wealth with him, and moved out to Florida. Harlan still had to work sometimes, as he was not really as great with his money. Harlan had never really been so great with his money, and it didn't help that he was a close friend of Fred Hylands' for so many years(that was usually something that seemed great when they knew him, but later it would come back to bite them). Collins knew that Harlan wasn't good with his money, and that must have contributed to why he refused to help him when the Crash of 1929 struck, other than just not wanting to have anything to do with the recording business in his retirement.  Harlan was a broken mess in the 1930's, living in a terrible old house in West Orange, NJ, that Jim Walsh once described as a terrible "run-down" old place that was certainly miserable. Harlan loved recalling those old recording days, but he felt that not a soul cared about those old names recording companies anymore, so this is why not much information came out of those letters from Harlan to Walsh in the early 30's. It's a sad ending to a long and fascinating story, but he died in September of 1936, broke, leaving his daughter and wife. 
His wife Ethel did indeed give a fair amount of information to Walsh in the 1940's, and that is where much of the information about him came from, I do not know what happened to his daughter, but she did live a long time as far as I know. 


I hope you enjoyed this!

Monday, August 3, 2015

Hard to Hear Brown waxes and etc.

All of us old record collectors have run into the problem of not being able to hear the brown wax cylinders we come across, whether they be our own records, or they're in another's collection. That cylinder that has a great selection with wonderful accompaniment but cannot be heard. We have all run into this problem. None of my brown wax cylinders have this problem, to where the mold on the cylinder is too much to hear the record. I know collectors whose brown waxes are very messy and hard to hear when played, which is unfortunate sometimes, as not all the brown wax cylinders found are really worth several listens. When you find a brown wax without a slip or anything, you just have to hope that it can start correctly and wait for an announcement. They can be a real adventure when you find a mot of them in a box or crate somewhere. I found my first three brown wax cylinders in a box where one of my collector friends gave me first "dibs" on what I wanted. I took all the brown wax cylinders in the box, not caring whether they were moldy or not, and when I was paying for them, I found that they were all clear as a bell, with only tiny speckles of mold on one of them. It did cost me 75 dollars for the five of them though! Only because they were in such good condition, and that they came in the original boxes with record slips. 
I got this brown wax in that mot I spoke of. I have showcased this brown wax before on this blog, but it's a perfect example of a well-cared for brown wax cylinder. It has George P. Watson on it(seen below) singing "Emmett's Lullaby" with Fred Hylands on the piano behind him, recorded in early 1898.
I just love that hair! 
It's a wonderful cylinder, that I genuinely enjoyed listening to through the rubber eartubes of an Edison phonograph from 1899. I had to mess with the speed a little bit(of course!) but when I got it going, it sounded fantastic. It wasn't loud necessarily, but it was still a wonder to hear. I would now recommend using the old rubber eartubes of the period to hear these brown wax cylinders, or if you can, a very large horn. I have always found that the bigger the horn used, the better. The smaller horns just sound small and tin-like. The larger horns get the full sound of the cylinder, and the greater range most of the time. 
These brown wax cylinders are really a mixed bag, they're either in perfect condition, a little moldy, or they're unplayable. 
This first cylinder I would like to showcase is an amazing example of early recorded band Rag-Time. This was recorded for Columbia by the Sousa Band(with one of the Spencer's doing sound effects probably) in 1897, the first year of official "Rag Time" to the masses.
Skip to 1:40 for the music to begin:
That cylinder has some bad mold on it. This is exactly what I'm talking about, it's an amazing selection that could be studied by Rag-Time geeks and record geeks all the same, but the mold on it effects the quality greatly. At least it's played on a very high grade machine with a very fancy (and large)wooden horn. The wooden horns were always a good idea, and they are oftentimes highly desired by collectors now for their craftsmanship and sound quality. 

The brown wax concert cylinders were the best sounding of their kind however. When played on a concert machine, they can be superior to any of the other brown wax cylinders. They were made to be loud and clear, and how that was achieved in their making. Here are two concert cylinders, one played on the original machine, and the other played electrically:
from 1900:
Well done Rag-Time Hylands! I love his accompaniment on this one!

from 1898:
Again with Hylands' accompaniment! The long and slow solo at the end is really interesting. 
This next one I have used several times on this blog, but it is a perfect example of a loud and clear brown wax concert cylinder. This is just a fantastic cylinder that I absolutely love. Here you go:
It's a great one by Will F. Denny and Fred Hylands that shows off the two of them very well. It showcases Denny's dynamic comedy and Hylands' interesting accompaniments, even with his signature "Rag-Time" at the end, as said in the section below:
"Mr. Hyland's[typo] rag-time piano accompaniments,..."

Yes indeed Mr. Hunting, that is exactly what we hear from your dear Indiana pianist. He never failed to disappoint. The fact that that is even noted specifically in his short bio is pretty extraordinary. It's so early on in his term there also. 
This next one is not a concert cylinder, but it's another great collaboration between Hylands and Denny from 1898. this one is not exactly Ragged like the last one, but it's still classic Hylands:
The solo at the end is interesting. It's not Ragged, but it's very close. It's still a fun song with a very catchy melody. It was a very popular song the year in and after it was composed, with Denny mostly recording it more than his fellows in the studios. 
So to stay on this Denny and Hylands pattern, this next one is also has the same status as the other ones, recorded in 1898, for Columbia, with Hylands doing an interesting solo at the end. The song itself is very funny as well:
Hylands is easy with the Rag-Time at the end on this one. It's not wild and scattered like on this classic by Billy Golden:
I still love this cylinder, even if the piano is near impossible to understand. 
It's the hallmark of Hylands' tricks and abilities, showing off everything that he did best behind the singers. The one before this with Denny is a calmer and easier example of Hylands' playing, that he stayed with the singer, and he did a little of what he wanted at the end, it's perfectly balanced. 

These next examples are two completely different takes of the same song. The first one is by Collins and Natus:

I have a collector friend who prefers Collins and Natus over Collins and Harlan, but for a good reason. He says that he and Natus just seemed to blend better and have an easier sound when they sang together. They were a great duo, even if it didn't really last an entire year. 
Here you go from 1901 on a brown wax concert cylinder:
(click on the "real" icon for the music!)
Yep, that's Banta behind them alright. 
This is played a little bit too slow though. It's still a very clear and good cylinder, a good example of Collins and Natus.
This next one is the only disc that I will have on this post, and it's by very early Collins and Harlan. I don't think I have shared this one before, as it's a very unusual one for them, and it's topped off with Harlan's old Chicago friend Fred Hylands: 
Ha! Hylands is almost louder than them!
That's always entertaining to hear. Those bass notes are very audible and powerful on this one, so it really gets you a full spectrum of how Hylands played. Only because the bass notes are not very well heard. 

I hope you enjoyed this!