In 1908 I left Akron and resolved to try to reinstate myself in New York
as a singer. I also made talking machine records, only to find that
seldom could I make a record at the first attempt that was up to the
very high standard maintained by the company in the case of all records
placed upon the market for sale. This meant a great waste of my time and
the company's material and services. It naturally set me thinking. If I
could do it one time--why couldn't I do it all the time? There was no
contradicting the talking machine record. The machine records the
slightest blemish as well as the most perfect tone. There was no getting
away from the fact that sometimes my singing was far from what I wished
it to be.
The strange thing about it all was that my singing did not seem to
depend upon the physical condition or feeling of my throat. Some days
when my throat felt at its very best the records would come back in a
way that I was ashamed of. It is a strange feeling to hear one's own
voice from the talking machine. It sounds quite differently from the
impression one gets while singing. I began to ponder, why were some of
my records poor and others good?
After deep thought for a very long period of time, I commenced to make
certain postulates which I believe I have since proved (to my own
satisfaction at least) to be reasonable and true. They not only
resulted in an improvement in my voice, but they enabled me to do at
command what I had previously been able to do only occasionally. They
are: