The Mystery Box and Blue American records

Well, what a week it's been! 

Hot damn this has been quite a week for records on my end. Whew!

This last Thursday, I took a trip over to my favorite antique store, thinking there may be something there, as I hadn't gone in about a month. I usually like to go to this place once a month or more if there are interesting lots of things to pick through. Never could I have anticipated the sort of things I'd be picking up that day...

This place I go to is one that I have frequented rather often for the last 6 months or so, grabbing piles of records and other old things of interest. I have gotten a ridiculously good stash of records overall from this place, but of course the only records I was getting, or ever saw from this place were disc records. I was just grabbing all the records, asking no questions and remaining modest and quiet when digging and later buying them. Since I've been going so often to this place, the proprietors have become familiar with the the sort of old things I'm looking for. 

After 6 months of stacking up the disc records from this place, with all colors and rarities of the phonographic rainbow, I finally asked the owner if there were any cylindrical records. The moment he told me there were some stashed up in the house(away from the customers poking around), he made me wait a little while. He had to go drop something off for one of the local customers, but with the promise he made, I was so anxious it was hard to maintain my antique store poker face. I waited about 20 minutes poking around mindlessly, as this was after I combed through all the usual spots here. When he came back, he went upstairs to grab a box of cylinders. 

I still was able to keep my cool as I opened the box and saw a few curious French brown waxes that weren't Pathé's. I inspected those thoroughly, and was interested, but of course I had no idea of their value, but I planned to buy them anyway. 

As I kept digging in this box, there were layers of records stacked on one another. There was a curious old looking case right under these French rarities, it looked to be from the 1890's. I was still keeping my poker face pretty constantly at this point, but it broke in a snap when I opened that old box. 

When I saw what was inside I just about screamed, I threw my hands up and nearly tore the 110 year old sleeves on my coat. 

That's what was inside. 

All brown wax, and only one of them was so moldy it can barely be saved. Unfortunately, as I started digging through all the slips and inspecting each record, a percentage of them were broken. But! despite that, I became passionately determined to take them all. That includes every last shard and piece of brown wax I could find. All the old slips were scattered around in the box and I kept looking over those to get some sort of idea of what was in this box. There were some interesting titles there. All the titles were handwritten in pen, in an almost familiar Spencerian script. The most tantalizing slip I saw in the batch was this one here: 

Yep, that's definitely a good sign. 

A brown wax with that title could either have been and original Hunting or a later Jim White take. That writing looks familiar doesn't it?

When I finally got through the box, I took 7 of them home with me after paying the owner. I was too afraid to grab them all at once, as I had a long and somewhat bumpy ride back home. 

I wasn't originally going to do anything the following day, but I became so bubbly over what sort of titles were in the first batch of 7. So the next day I got up early and got over to the place earlier than usual, to grab the rest of the old box of records and go. I spent no extra time this go around, the records needed to get home to be played and correctly identified. Don't get too worried, I only played the announcements and maybe a little more to get what they were and stored them back in their cozy 1890's box. Every one of these beauties was covered in dust, but under the dust, there's no mold or anything, just flawless recordings all from a very specific period of time. 

So after I finally spent several hours trying to get all of these correctly paired with the matching old slips, I got more into the strange circumstances of this almost flawless box of brown wax. 

So here are a few interesting things about this box:

-They are all Columbia's

-All from 1895-1899

-All the slips are written in pen

-there are two of each artist(almost)

-there's a lot of Len Spencer related selections

-no mold anywhere

-all the same shade of brown wax

-there's quite a variety of selections, from sacred to hot rag-time

-all the titles on the slips are abbreviated like Columbia studio slips I've seen

This box was carefully put together. Someone had quite varied tastes in records. These records were originally sold by Allen Koenigsberg, probably over a decade ago to this collector in Berkeley. The collector's name was on lots items I had previously picked up from this place, so without a doubt these brown wax beauties belonged to him at some point. 

Funny accompanying story, when I bought that batch of Berliners and Zon-O-Phone's from this place, I noticed that most of them were kept in distinct yellow sleeves from Kurt Nauck. With that, I contacted Mr. Nauck about these records, and he promptly told me to whom he sold the records. This collector in Berkeley died a few years ago, so it seems that all of these extremely valuable records were dropped off at this antique store I frequent. 

So the fact that these brown waxes came from Koenigsberg would make sense, since they are so outstanding and prime examples of mid-1890's recordings. 

So all of this is great without a doubt, but what was in the mystery box? I spent hours attempting to grab all the titles on these records, and match the slips with the proper record, as they seemed to have been scattered when I found them. At the current time I still have not gotten all the slips to match every single record, as I do not have a very good phonograph to present them in a decent fashion. I have only an 1898 Columbia Q that is definitely not a high quality machine, but I can play brown wax on it safely. So do not expect any transfers from me soon...
The first one I was anxious to play when I got home was of course the "Casey" sketch. That record was far more intriguing and valuable than I could have ever expected. Hunting's records alone are very rare, especially the brown waxes he made. But one thing is for sure, his pre-1897 cylinders are the most desirable of them. Well it turns out that this one in the mystery box was one of them. This cylinder was recorded probably in late-1895 or early 1896, before he got arrested with Charlie Carson for the smut cylinder scandal. It's got that same pristine sound quality as the few Original Hunting's that are online, such as this one:
https://ia802308.us.archive.org/4/items/RussellHunting/RussellHunting-CaseyattheTelephone.mp3
Now think about this, the record I got was recorded right there with Hunting. It was made under his own supervision, it was in the recording room with him, and he recorded directly onto that surface that I can now hold and handle. 

This is exactly why brown wax is so intriguing in a way that no other recordings are. If the record is old enough, it was likely recorded directly on by the recording star who's on it. The record witnessed the musicians and performers in person, and depending on the performer may have been handled by that very performer. This adds a level of personal touch that later records from this time just don't have. This is exactly why this Hunting record in the mystery box is so valuable to me in particular. 

There were several records by Len Spencer in this box. There were as follows:
"What Shall the Harvest Be" from 1896-97
"My Gal is a High Born Lady" with Ossman, 1897
"Crappy Dan" with Ossman, 1897
"-----Honey Boy" with Hylands 1898(I couldn't get the title of this one very well but it's likely something called "Lucinda Does you Love yer Honey Boy?")
Of course since these records are all Columbia's from around the same time, as to be expected, there are quite a few of them with Len Spencer announcements, which is perfectly fine for me!

There were two standout Edward M. Favor records in this box. Usually the Edward Favor records that collectors have are his Zon-O-Phone's from 1900-1903, and his Edison records from the late-1900's. But I assure you these two Favor's were the rarest and most desirable of all the kinds he made. Both of these Favor records are from 1896. They both had that distinct "...of New York City" announcement(as 80 per cent or so of these records have) and that beautiful clear piano accompaniment that was on those Columbia's he made in 1896. The two records sound exactly like this record here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11859
Same pianist, same recording room, and overall beautiful quality. 
The titles unfortunately I could not make out just yet, and they are hard to match with the remaining slips. 
There was a Gaskin, Steve Porter, and a surprisingly clear Will F. Denny record. 
The Gaskin is a really pretty love song titled "Answer", with that pristine mid-1890's Columbia recording quality. The Steve Porter is an unusual one titled "She Lives on the Same Street with Me". The Denny is a very distinctly early 1897 Columbia titled "Then and Now". 
There were two Clarinet solos by William Tuson which really got me excited! I have a lot of love for those Issler soloists, as they were fantastic musicians that really stood out from the rest of the musicians in the orchestras. 
The two Tuson's were "Southern Plantation Echoes" from 1897 and "Old Black Joe" from 1897-98. Both of these records are online, but the ones I got in the mystery box are definitely different takes. There are some distinct differences between my takes and the ones I've heard online, which is great! To give you an idea, here are the two Columbia takes of these online:
"Old Black Joe"
"Southern Plantation Echoes"
My take of "Southern plantation echoes" is the longest one of the takes I've heard. It hovers right around the three minute mark and there's another chorus of the Tapioca played at the end. The clarinet and piano also alternate playing the Tapioca toward the end which is a really nice added touch. This take also sounds really nice, even on my crappy cheap old Columbia. 
There were a few Columbia orchestra records in the box too, such as an 1897 take of "Ecstasy Waltz"(with a cornet solo by Tom Clark!), and a curious recording of an unnamed "lanciers". 
There was also a super nice early 1897 take of "Stars and Stripes forever" by Sousa's Band, which added a nice touch to all the obscurities in the box. 
I know I'm missing a few to describe here, but I really want to get to the next part of this post. I will do another post once I know what everything is and when I know I can get decent electric transfers of them. I have already been given and offer to get them transferred!





All-right then!

Yesterday I had a serious aha! moment. Amid a moment of thoughtless listening(this is usually how is goes...), I realized something big. 
Many collectors try to grab those Blue American records when they can, as they're very attractive records that stand out from all others in pre-1910 recordings. I have quite a stack of them myself, this hot one included:

I am always amazed at their beauty. 
(in case you're wondering, this curious record is basically like one of Spencer's brown waxes with Hylands but half a decade later!)
Last night I went back and listened to the handful of American records that are online, and was reminded of how hot and tight their house orchestra was. Their orchestra was called the regimental band of the republic, which is quite a generic name for a studio ensemble. No one really knows who they were, as this company was shrouded in secrecy, but for good reason. They were started by a few sketchy Edison employees in 1904, but somehow these sketchy Edison workers managed to create the best sounding records of the era. Their records boom in ways that others just didn't! And how their orchestra did just that, and more!
so as many have been long wondering, who was the regimental band of the republic? Well, you know what, I may have come to a possible answer. 
That orchestra was just absolutely outstanding to all the other studio groups, with familiar sounding musicians. Who do they sound like the most?

Hager. 

Of course! It made so much sense once I started thinking through ways that could prove this idea. Before I go forth with the explanation, here are a few of their records:
Perhaps the hottest ever, "a Southern Belle(Cake-walk)"

"Cocoanut Dance"(written 1891)

"Princess Pocahontas"(buck dance)

Hager's own "Handsome Harry"

"1863 medley"

So why would it make sense that Hager could have led this this orchestra? They recorded "Handsome Harry" to start, which is Hager's piece from 1904. Of all the record insiders Hager would make the most sense in terms of having his hand in this mysterious and dreaded record company. Hager was part of the Climax scramble in 1901-1902, as he was working for Columbia-Climax-Zonophone when the tensions were boiling hot, but he was taking his orchestra to the more reliable and better quality Climax and Zon-O-Phone instead of Columbia. He managed to escape the battles over patents and record talent unscathed, but he gained ever more knowledge of the recording ropes and where the best fortune would be. With this heightened knowledge, Hager would have seen the great opportunities that American possessed. 
The sound of the orchestra on American nearly mirrors Hager's Zon-O-Phone orchestra from the same time period. This frame of 1904-1907 is also when Hager was working the most overall, so maybe this American notion went into his crowded work schedule. 
Also, I may add that the "1863 Medley" listed above sounds like many of hager's arrangements that were written down and the ones that were played at Zon-O-Phone around the same time. By this I'm meaning a tune of his like this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrdarM0xKgs
Indeed so. 

Now all of this is very tantalizing indeed, but it's just a possibility. No one really knows what was the deal with those American records, and another thing that particularly intrigues collectors of them is that orchestra announcer. That announcer was always so unenthusiastic and not theatrical about the announcements. It's a very familiar voice though, very recognizable to those who own some of these American records. That announcer very well could be someone in the band. But think about who would be right there with no instrument to keep his mouth shut...



Anyway, I think I'll end it here. I really want to do another blog post this week but I'll be traveling for a week, back this following Tuesday. When I return however, I will be giving a lecture on Hager! Let's hope that turns out all-right, there's quite a lot to cover with his long story...

Hope you enjoyed this!

The Brothers Hager

As stated in the last post, I promised to do a post on the Hager's, so here goes.

When that big panoramic picture of Hager's orchestra was sent to me almost a year ago, it shocked me at the amount of detail there was in the description. Every single person was identified, even the recording engineers. Even the mysterious Charlie Carson was identified in the picture(he was Russell Hunting's right hand man with the smut cylinders in the 1890's). 

Just to give you an idea, here's the picture in its entirety:

That looks like a fun group!

Hager is stated as being no. 10, right in the center. 

There he is! ❤

A lot of Hager's musicians were part of Victor Herbert's orchestra(what a surprise!) and many were also symphonic musicians. Of course Hager had the most diverse orchestra in terms of each musician's extraction, in considering his wide range of friendships and partnerships. He knew everyone in the Symphonic and operatic community to the highest regarded vaudeville performers. Hager clearly knew what's up, in terms of music that is. So in considering this, we would assume he got the best percussionist he could find. 

Well, that turned out to be his brother. 

Yes indeed folks, that "James Hager" that is listed behind Fred Hager is indeed Fred's brother. Those two looked too similar for them not to be related, so after I did a little digging on Ancestry, it turns out that James was the youngest of the Hager's. Fred was the oldest, and James was the youngest. There were four Hager's:

Fred(b. 1874)

Lena(b.1878)

Georgina(b. 1880)

James(b. 1882)

Fred couldn't find a better percussionist? Well, I guess it's always good to get a sibling some work. 

There they are! They so look like brothers!

So there you have it, Fred's brother James is that percussionist on all those records. For years I had wondered who that weird percussionist was, since they weren't always great, but when they were it formed perfectly to the orchestra. Fred started the orchestra in 1896, and it seems likely that he wouldn't have forced brother James to play all their gigs until at least 1898. Rather than having him join at 14, waiting until he was 16 seems a little better. Or maybe I'm wrong, maybe Fred got him to join just as he started high school in 1896! Of course to illustrate this I have a cartoon!

Yep. 

I was thinking back to those stories that Fred Van Eps recalled to Jim Walsh about him pulling Frank Edgar Banta out of high school to make records and play gigs with the Van Eps trio. The Hager thing reminded me of the Van Eps-Banta story. 

There's some sort of gratification now going back and listening to all those Hager's orchestra(and Zon-O-Phone orchestra) records, knowing that the percussionist is Fred's brother James. To make things a bit more interesting, James Hager is listed on a few Edison records around 1903, which is around the time of that panoramic picture, and when the Edison catalogs were raving over Hager taking over their orchestra. Here's the most popular example:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder2811

It's funny that the Edison people were consistent with the "James W." in identifying him, even though that's not really what his middle initial was. That must have been used to closely place both Hager's, and maybe make it more assumed that they were related. 

When going back and listening to those Zon-O-Phone records by Hager's orchestra, it becomes clear that brother James improved as the years went on. 

By 1909, James was playing spot on with the group:

Zon-O-Phone orchestra playing "Kerry Mills' Rag-Time Dance"

When we dig back to 1900 however, it's still a little bit out of whack, but of course still far surpassing all the other studio groups at the time:

Hager's 1900 take of "Plantation Pastimes"

And to think in 1900 the Columbia orchestra still sounded out of whack because of Hylands! 

I'm sure with the exciting motivation of making records brother James was determined to improve, and make the records sound much better, which they did by 1906 or so. With this in mind, Fred wrote many arrangements that were heavy on the percussion, and it seems evident why this was so now. 

His pieces were strange, but very fun and complicated at the same time. Recently I got a two sided mint condition Columbia of two Hager pieces played by Prince's band. 

Here's the more famous Hager piece side:

https://archive.org/details/ToyShopSymphonyPrinceHager1915

His tunes are deceiving, they sound solely novelty and playful, but are endlessly complicated and require a skilled percussionist! (no sitting around back there counting!)

Here's the flipside:

https://archive.org/details/KiddiesHagerPrince1915

This particular side was a modern marvel of its time. It clearly exhibits how advanced the quality of recording was by 1915, and it shows also that Hager had tried everything to create a symphonic natured recording without an entire symphony. Hager wrote these highly descriptive pieces around 1907, and it would make sense that he did. Being a dad with three young daughters, it would seem almost expected of him to write such sweetly novel pieces as these. It also makes sense now why there's so much percussion on these; to exhibit the talents of his brother James, and to show off all the weird sound effects they had dug up after almost two decades of recording. 

In keeping with the Hager subject, I have been on the lookout for some of his illusive Rex records. Those records were essentially the first of their kind, the first very successful American vertical cut records. Here's a nice example floating around on the internet:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rv9v8DJBns&t=24s

These records sounded particularly nice in their day, and they seemed to have had the strangest titles associated with them. This label shows Hager's true colors, very expansive and diverse. The Rex label recorded everything from Grand Opera to Rag-Time piano solos by Roy Spangler who learnt them by ear.

Don't Believe me? Well here you go:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdEZE8hu20Q

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZMSzbqMAp4

How about that?

Just like he did with Zon-O-Phone ten years before, Hager made sure the widest range of music was recorded, and recorded well for that matter. I have a single Rex record, and it sounds okay, but of course without the proper apparatus to play it it's bound to sound crappy. 

I don't have transfers yet, but here are the pictures:

That is the later edition of the Rex label, from 1915. 

The music is really nice on these though, as expected of Hager, the orchestra accompaniment is definitely more interesting than other studio groups of the time. Since it's 1915, the accompaniment is a pseudo-"Jass"style, which makes it particularly interesting. This is more so on side B however. As it turns out, these records are very uncommon, which is strange considering the circumstances of which I found the Rex record I have. I stayed in Los Angeles a few years ago and went to the Amoeba records in Hollywood and found that record buried in the old timey section at the back of the store. 

I was just in LA this last week and found nothing nearly as nice as that Rex record this time at Amoeba. I have gotten some nice Zon-O-Phone and Ossman records there in the past and recently, but the Rex record is the sole standout find from there. 

With that, I return to the Hager's. Unfortunately, it will take a lot more digging to find more on James Hager. On the entry for Fred, everything is there, but the information on the rest of the family is very vague. However, when I did a little more deeper digging I eventually found his WWI draft card! You can imagine how happy I was to find it, and definitely be assured that it was the right guy. 

Here you go:

How about that?

Tall, Stout, and brown eyed. 

Hmm.

That's quite different from how his matinee idol brother Fred looked. I do find it curious that his hair is stated as being already somewhat gray by age 36. Usually thats an indicator of red hair, but let's not get too set on that idea. Just keep that in mind with him. Finding this card also proves a much more exact birthdate for him, as well as that he was working as a musician long after the Zon-O-Phone era with Hager's orchestra. 

Anyhow...

I wanted to do a section here on the new phonograph I just got, but I will have to save that for the next post. I have a handful of really nice records to play and eventually get transferred. The machine I got is a really early Columbia Q with some nice eartubes to go with it. The discussion of the records will also be done in the next post, as there's quite a lot to talk about surprisingly. 

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!

A Mysterious Photographer

Not often do I speak historically of photography, but sometimes knowing something about period photography helps in understanding some of the mess I'm digging through. Recently, I was getting a few Ossman pictures together for a cartoon idea, but then I realized something about one of the pictures I was using. 

I opened this picture for the first time in a while, and noticed that it was not taken at the Edison studio in c.1898. I cropped this larger version of this crappy image from this:

Edison? What?

Nope. 

Okay, so the first thing that caught my eye and made me realize that this was not taken at Edison was that wallpaper. I've seen that wallpaper quite a few times in Columbia studio pictures. Just so you can all visually see that this wallpaper is most certainly Columbia's is through this picture here:

We know for certain that this group of musicians is the Columbia orchestra. Thanks to The Phonoscope, we can be assured that these are familiar musicians that we've seen before, such as the clarinetist and the piccolo player. Those two recognizable musicians are William Tuson and George Schweinfest, with any one of the cornet players probably being Tom Clark. The picture above is certainly Columbia's studio, as not only do we see familiar Columbia musicians, but we also see those distinct windows that were on that immense building that Columbia occupied in the late-1890's. You can't see those windows in that picture of the studio in 1898:

Unfortunately the picture was taken just so that you can't see those windows, but everything inside is the same as usual. You can see them here though:

There's those windows!
So anyway, now that we've got that sorted out, let's get back to that Ossman picture. 
We can now see that it was taken at the same place as this picture, according to the familiar wallpaper sheathing the background of every early Columbia picture:

there's that same wallpaper!
So with all of this evidence of Columbia being the location of that crude Ossman picture, what of it?
Well, it's not Edison as the note below it states. So, since I've gathered all of these early Columbia pictures from around the same time, this had led me to question something. 
What's with all these crude pictures?
It can seem curious to look through all these Columbia pictures and find a pattern. What I've noticed about these Columbia pictures is that they are nothing like the well composed Edison pictures from around the same time, and a little earlier. Even the earliest Columbia pictures have a period composition that were taken by a skilled photographer. The strange composition of these Columbia photographs is not typical to what I've seen in general from the time period. They're out of whack and uniquely composed. 

I mean, it would be hard to look at that Ossman studio picture and not see that it's weird. Just like the 1898 exhibition picture, it's clear someone was experimenting. Also, after doing some more digging through my studio pictures, I realized that the one picture of Estella Mann making records was also taken at Columbia...

That same wallpaper!
The composition of these photos is very strange, and I hope that you see why. Not often do we see in an 1890's photograph a picture like the Ossman one, likely taken down the hallway from the main recording room, leaving the door open and taking up half of the photo's composition. Being in an advanced placement art class, my teacher would give that image a funny look, since often photographers are advised to compose the image with balance, but that Ossman picture has not that at all. Even with my inner artiste talking, I love these strange Columbia photographs. They're especially unique, not just from the technical standpoint of noticing the same wallpaper, but also from the artistic standpoint of the weird composition. With all of Columbia's rotten corporate rules and atmosphere, they still had the most down-to-earth bunch of leaders on their recording staff. Another thing to keep in mind with these Columbia pictures is that they were all taken around the same time, within a two year time frame(or so). The time I mean here would be from 1897-1898. Even though I have not used the exhibition picture as an example, that picture also is included in this study. It be about time to use it again anyway:

This image is composed similarly strange to the other ones. 
Really look at it. 
This image was likely taken at that rounded corner that we can see in the picture of the outside of the place in 1898. Since we can see all of this, here's the real question...
Who was taking all these pictures?
Of course since there's no "Columbia Archive" anywhere, we can't definitively see who took thee pictures, but we can have some good guesses. We know many of these Columbia recording stars were experimenting through their long recording careers, but the one specific guess I have would be Len Spencer. We know that in 1895-96, both Spencer's along with Steve Porter and Russell Hunting tried entering in the new film business. After that endeavor collapsed, Harry Spencer was left with all the equipment and connections they made, the remnants of this you can see in the earliest edition of The Phonoscope. Considering Spencer's relentless experimentation, it would be too surprising if he was part of the reason for those strange Columbia pictures. Since he did have an "artsy" side(being that he was naturally a lefty) he must have had an apt viewpoint when it came to taking photographs. Another reason I think it may be Spencer is because of who is missing in the exhibition photograph. We see Harry Spencer clearly identified, but no Len in sight. I'm not saying that I would always assumed the Spencer brothers to be together, but since the image above is of an exhibition, it would be very likely that Len was elsewhere in that chaotic scene. By elsewhere, I mean "experimenting" with a camera he had. When considering Spencer's nature to experiment, it wouldn't be surprising if he was responsible for that exhibition picture, or the strangely composed Ossman one from around 1897 or so. 
Let me reiterate that picture again, just so we can all see it again:

That's the stranger portion, where we're peeking into the recording room at Ossman while he makes records. It's a clever photograph really, even with the almost too wide door. 
The other seemingly random half of the picture here is this also interesting character:

Who's that?
When looking over this image once more, I almost immediately recognized that guy. He's got to be an Emerson brother. But which one exactly is the question...
Well, as I went to dig through all the pictures of those three brothers, I assumed first that it was the most obvious guess, Victor. We all know about Victor, with those intense eyes and red hair, with a stare that'll knock anyone cold(and not in a good way!). 

There he is...You can just see the evil in his eyes...
After looking at pictures of the three Emerson brothers, I saw that this figure was not Victor, but it was George. 

The handsomest of the Emerson boys, also the youngest. 
You can see that this mysterious engineer in the artsy Columbia picture is George for a few reasons. 
One...That's exactly the same mouth and lip structure.
Two...those distinct ears, that were slightly different from Victor's more pointy ones. 
Three...That curly, wavy hair. All three(there were four mind you) of the Emerson boys had this hair type, but it seems that George got the most prominent variation on this theme, and you can see it in the artsy picture, as can be observed in the picture directly above.

Another observation...if that's George Emerson in the Ossman picture(of whatever it is...), he looks older than his age. Lets say that picture was taken in 1898, so with that, Emerson would have been 22. He looks older than a young chap of 22. Thanks to The Phonoscope we know that he was the sporty one of the brothers. He got himself into tangles with wandering women, and it looks like he was a drinker as well, similar to Victor in a certain aspect. 


Anyway, it seems I've exhausted this topic for now, hopefully I can sometime see the originals of these images and get a much better scan of them, wherever they're kept hidden...

Hope you enjoyed this!