Repairing vintage Ludwig pads

I love these old Ludwig pads from the 1960s and 70s.

For anyone who grew up playing on Mylar heads, these are darned near perfect. The feel is the closest to a real drum without the volume. They were sold separately and were also included in student kits with snare drum and bells.

Finding one today is difficult. Model P-378 (8”) turns up more often than model P-379 (10”), but you really have to scour the online want ads for them. Ludwig stopped making these pads in 1980 or so. They offered the parts for a few more years, but then stopped making those too. Very occasionally, I’ve found a replacement head or a few tensioning nuts online, but they’re rare and expensive because the seller usually knows what they have.

When I do find one, they are very often quite used, sometimes abused, and in need of repair. Lacking a supply of replacement parts, I’ve had to make do with what’s in front of me.

The original wood used for the baseplate and internal base was very soft, probably pine, to cut down on production costs. Unfortunately, that means it’s fragile and wears with time and use. The construction is simple, and that means a worn pad can be repaired or at least extended pretty easily.

So far, I’ve been lucky. I’ve been able to repair every pad I’ve found and make it useable again. Sometimes, it’s a matter of removing pieces, cleaning them up and reassembling.

Other times, the wood baseplate is pretty beaten up — splintered and/or warped — and I have to remove all of the metal buts, reverse the baseplate and reinstall them from the other side. Doing this helps to reverse some of the effects of warping, and gives the heads of each “finned screw” new wood to bite into.

In a couple of cases, owing to lack of replacement heads, I’ve chosen to add another layer to the head. Either from the underside or directly on top, to help the head last longer. Neither approach seems to affect the sound or feel adversely.

The latest pad I found, an 8” model, came from a private seller cleaning out her garage. We agreed on a price and I got the pad home, where I dismantled it and examined the pieces.

The baseplate was pretty hammered, and one of the tensioning nuts had rusted frozen to the finned screw. In order to save this pad, I would have to carve a bit of the wood away so I could gain purchase with pliers

and hold onto it while applying a spot of oil and turning the tensioning nut. I reasoned that when I had removed the screw, I could fill in the gouge with a thing piece of wood cut to fit, apply it with wood glue, and gently poke a new hole in the spot.

After removing the final screw, I filled in the divot with the tiny piece of wood and set it in the divot with wood glue, clamping it in place. When it dries, I should be able to carefully drill a new hole, ream it to size, and reassemble the pad.

(The tape applied on the side is there to keep the wood glue from running out.)

Once dry enough, I removed the clamp, poked a hole and called it good. The screw went in easily, and held fast to the new underside.

Other enthusiasts of this make and model, most notably Rick Dior, has a full workshop of tools, so when he has to restore one of these pads, he simply cuts a new baseplate from hardwood and installs the metal pieces into the new baseplate.

Since I don’t have power tools or much woodworking experience, I tend to do repairs that are more rough-and-ready. My goal is to make these pads useable again, not museum-worthy.

After flipping the baseplate, I reinstalled the threaded hole assembly. This required some care, so I wouldn’t crack the plywood baseplate while sinking the teeth into the other side. I laid shop rags across my bench vise with the jaws open, to allow the threaded center to poke through the other side without mangling the metal. 

Then I reinstalled the thick seating washer and the little rubber feet. I also laid in some Elmer’s Glue-All along the edges where the plywood was roughly finished. The hope is the fast-drying glue will help to keep those edges from splintering further. I can color them in with black paint pen if I like. 

And voila! Good enough to play for years to come.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for replacement parts.

BONUS TIP: Thanks to fellow Ludwig pad enthusiast Rick Dior, I was able to obtain these black vinyl end caps that slide over the tuning nuts, thereby saving my sticks from getting chopped up during practice. 

You can find them on eBay and elsewhere, or perhaps at a large local hardware store. For this application, get the size with the 6.5mm inside diameter.

Product review: Evans Attacktile brush pad

Note: I paid for my pad used from a previous owner. I did not seek out a frreebie from Evans/D'Addario, as I doubt they would have sent one and I'm not one of the marching arts "pad bros".

It's all fine.

Here's my review.

*******

Wow.

I came into an Evans Attacktile pad in used condition (used as in, previous owner dropped it, and the surface got dented in one corner). This pad retails new for forty dollars. I paid eight bucks for mine.

After putting it through its paces, I can say that is the upper end of its actual value.

The brush surface is nice, but the playing surface's size is far too small to be an effective brush practice surface. Evans calls this a 10-inch pad. They get that measurement by running the tape diagonally from corner to corner through the center of the base. The true measurement of the playing surface when the tape is run from one straight to another through the middle of the pad is 9 inches. That's simply too small to be a truly useful brush surface.

The brush surface is a plastic laminate that appears to have been applied with double-sided tape. It peels up with shockingly little effort and doesn't stick quite as firmly when you press it back down.

The nonskid surface on the underside is a little less than 1 inch wide, which made be just enough to provide nonskid properties, but only barely. The threaded hole in the center of the underside allows this to be used on an 8mm threaded stand.

The only nice thing about this pad is how it feels with sticks, and it's very portable size. The laminate over the gray rubber is nicely responsive with sticks, has good rebound and doesn't feel like Formica.

But is it worth forty bucks new? In my opinion, not in the least. The overall construction is lackluster and pushes the boundary of what is acceptable quality for a pad in this pricepoint.

I am glad I got to try it for so little. I'll add it to the stable for now, but later on I might re-glue the laminate before giving it to a kid.

Dating vintage practice pads

Some key points for those looking at old pads:

— Brown gum rubber may have been lighter tan. The only way to verify this is to peel back an edge and peek. Gum rubber that hasn’t been exposed to sunlight will retain more of a tan color. (If you accidentally pull off the gum rubber too far, simply glue it back. Spread a thin coat and roll a drum stick across the top to spread it evenly, turn over and weight down until dry.) 

— Mass produced, or homemade? How to tell? While it’s not an exact science, it’s worth noting that in the mid 20th century, a lot of Americans still knew how to work with simple hand tools and many did their home minor home repairs. The wood finishing here is just rough enough for this to possibly be homemade.

On the other hand, lower-grade wood was reserved by drum companies for things like practice pads, and the nicer quality planks 

That said, the small matching “feet” on bottom, and the clean cut of the round rubber and the edged wood top and bottom panels, both suggest that this may have been made in a local factory for a music store to sell. I’d guess a smaller, local outfit made it because of the lower overall standard of the wood used. (Most homemade pads wouldn’t be edged, and I’ve yet to see one with matching feet.)

— The larger 9 x 7” sized pads became less common in the late 1950s, as bigger drum companies sought to streamline pad manufacturing by offering fewer models. A smaller, standardized size would reduce the material required and cut costs. 

A pad that has no label or stamp can be harder to place, but I’d feel comfortable estimating this to be a smaller-scale, mass-produced pad from the late 1940s to early 50s. Happily, the rubber still feels great to chop on.