Vintage Corner: More Remo pad love

Remo’s first practice pads, circa 1960-62, were not tunable, and consisted of a round piece of Mylar set into a frame made of thin plywood. Foam underneath allowed for a quieter sound, though on every one of these I’ve found the foam has literally disintegrated with time. The result was not stellar by modern standards, but it was real departure from the rubber-on-wood pads common at the time. These earliest versions were built atop a thin, hollow frame that gave it some tilt and a resenting chamber.

What I’d never seen before was a 10-inch size that came without a resonating platform. I didn’t know these existed. But I just found one to add to my historic collection, and I’m thrilled to share it with you.

DIY Percussion: Homemade practice pad

Inspired at least a little by the Live Edge drum pads, where someone took a tree round, dipped it in flex seal and charged a hundred and fifty bucks for it, I decided to make my own.

It’s not pretty.

I used the bottom deck of an old Remo practice pad. The second generation of these pads used hard plastic rims that would chip if you hit a rimshot too hard, and eventually the rims cracked completely. I removed the screws, the broken rim, head and foam insert.

Roughed up the bottom, poured successive thin layers of Flex Seal liquid, let each layer dry for two days before pouring the next. (Outside, in the shed, with the screen window wide open. Don't do this inside your house!)

I had trouble wrangling the can and the liquid and made a bit of a mess. But I wore protective gloves and shop glasses, and got it done.

The end result is surprisingly functional. Best with concert or drum kit sticks.

You may want to glue a closed-cell foam backing to the bottom to give it more muffling and a nonskid surface.

I ended up doing three of these pads and I’m giving a couple to friends as gifts. I probably won't try this again, as a can of Flex Seal starts at around 18 bucks. 

Right now, this pad is drying outside because I decided to glue an ensolite foam pad to the underside.

I think it will help with the tone and slightly reduced vibration.

 

Video below shows the pad in use with jazz sticks, concert sticks and light marching sticks.

 

 

 

Vintage Corner: my very first practice pad, circa 1973

In the Fall of 1973, I walked into my grade school auditorium to see about joining the band.

I originally wanted to play a brass instrument, French horn or trumpet; but the few that the school had were already out on loan, and my parents couldn’t afford to rent an instrument from a music store. So I asked the music teacher what was available on loan.

After considering Cello (beautiful, but too big for my bicycle basket), flute (too much danger of hyperventilation) and clarinet (too squeaky, no thank you), the music teacher was out of options.

Except… 

“Well there’s a drum class that meets once a week, and anyone who passes all the lessons and quizzes can join the 5th grade band at the semester.” He paused.

“What?” I asked.

He pursed his lip, and then said, “Well, right now there’s ten boys in the class, and if you join you’d be the only girl. They might make fun of you. But if you hang in there — and I think you can — then you’d be able to join the band in January, with two or three other students. I expect the rest to get bored or wash out before then. And you’d start with a practice pad and some sticks, which would easily fit in your bike basket.”

I thought for a moment. And then, I said yes.

I went home with a pair of drum sticks, a lesson book and this practice pad.

I wrote my name on the bottom in case it got lost. I showed up for every class, and learned how to read rhythm and count and how to play long rolls and flams. Other rudiments would follow later. In January, I joined the fifth grade band with three other kids, and after just a month, I was moved up to the sixth grade band because I was making rapid progress. (The fifth grade boys were jealous, but even they had to admit that I had earned it.)

This pad went with me into middle school, high school and college. For many years, long before specialized drum pads became commonplace, it was my only practice pad. I replaced the head my freshman year of high school, and again in college. The bottom foam strip got a little dirty and dinged in the bottom of my backpack, but the pad held up beautifully. I just stuck a new-old-stock replacement head on it today, and added a thin layer of yoga mat material under the original foam to stabilize the foam a bit. It still works as advertised, and it’s still a cool little pad.

Comparing old and new: Ludwig P-359 and Volkwein’s Tom’s Pad

I have a fondness for tunable pads, particularly the old Ludwig P-359 (8”) and P-360 (10”), and I’m also a fan of the Tom’s Pad from Volkwein’s Music. The former was at its height of production from the late 1960s through around 1980. Tom’s Pad went into production around ten years ago, long after the demise of the Ludwig models. 

I had an opportunity to obtain a second Tom’s Pad today, and when I brought it home, I immediately took it apart. I did so because this pad came with a Ludwig-branded head and I wanted to see if it was the same as the old heads from the Ludwig pad.  Tom’s Pad comes with a specially-branded head made by Remo, and is meant to take Remo practice pad replacement heads. The Remo head will not fit on an old Ludwig pad because the hoop of the heads differs in width and depth.

I have pieces of an old Ludwig P-359 pad on hand and would like to replace the very worn head that came with it. Since Ludwig no longer makes parts for these older pads, it’s a bit of luck to find parts that can be swapped in.

I took the Tom’s Pad apart, and discovered that the construction is nearly identical to that of the P-359. The only meaningful difference is in the metal rim.

As you can see from the photos, the components are nearly identical. The foam insert for the Ludwig pad is slightly thinner, but still curves down towards the edges like the thicker insert from the Tom’s Pad.

The other difference is that the hardware for the newer pad is a thicker Allen bolt that screws into threaded receivers in the base,w hole the hardware for the P-359 was an odd, over-engineered design using threaded bolts that were pressed into the base from underneath, and square nuts (which fit a standard drum key) screwed on from above to tighten the rim and head against the base. On both pads, a smaller wooden disc sits under the head and above the base, the foam rubber and head held in place above that by the rim and bolts. 

In both cases, only the pressure of tightening the bolts held everything together. (This is not unlike the approach used in Beetle Percussion’s “Last Pad,” the double-sided design of which I reviewed earlier. I will receive the single-sided version of the pad for testing and review closer to Spring.)

The hoop of both Ludwig heads is nearly identical, which tells me that they would both work on the P-359 pad. However, the Tom’s Pad came with a lot of wrinkles in the newer Ludwig head, and I suspect that may be due to having been stretched over the thicker foam rubber at pressure. When I reassembled the Tom’s Pad, I tensioned it a bit higher than it had been when I brought it home. it didn’t remove the wrinkles entirely, and if I keep this pad I’ll probably replace the head with a Remo practice pad head, which should lay better at tension. I’ll probably set aside the newer Ludwig head as a possible replacement for a P-359.

I decided to see if I could discern any meaningful difference between the response of a P-359 and the Tom’s Pad with the Ludwig head.

Obviously, with this Ludwig pad being at least fifty years old, the head is a little worn and I don’t want to crank it too tight. 

Then, I compared it with the Tom’s a pad with the Remo head.

Volkwein’s offers replacement rubber inserts and heads for the Tom’s Pad. Their replacement heads are embossed with Volkwein’s logo. If you don’t want that, a regular Remo practice pad head should fit just as well.

While comparisons are often made between the Volkwein pad and old Reno tunable pads, the Remo pad base uses a plastic bottom with a deep recess designed to hold foam rubber, with the head stretching over the recess. The result is that the Remo pad sounds hollower — and louder — than the Tom’s Pad.

In truth, the design of the Tom’s Pad is much closer to that of the old Ludwig P-359/360 pads, and in my opinion it’s a design that produces a better tone and feel. 

The Remo pad of the 1960s and 70s holds a special place in my heart because it’s the pad I began learning on. But the sound of that pad grated on my parents’ nerves, and successive generations of students were encouraged to find something else to practice on as soon as they showed they were serious about continuing with drums. I keep a few Remo pads in my collection to this day, but welcome play on them now. The Ludwig P-259 and 360, on the other hand, are in regular rotation on my practice pad stand. They’re solid and feel great. The Tom’s Pad also sees some chopping time. 

I’ve written to Volkwein’s Music a few times asking — imploring, really — that they consider making this pad in  10” size. Now that I have a better understanding of its design, I can see why they’ve kept with the 8” size. Still, I can dream.

Tom’s Pad is available from a Volkwein’s Music for a retail price of $85 plus shipping. It’s well-made and will last a long time with care. The Ludwig P-359 (8”) can sometimes be found used online, though in varying degrees of condition. The P-360 (10”) shows up far less often, and sells for far more because it’s the more desirable size among collectors and players alike.

Vintage Corner: Remo tuneable practice pad, Part II

While researching this make and model of practice pad, I was also looking for an older version of the pad so I could get a better idea of its technical development.
I got lucky and obtained two within days of each other. They were made around the same time, in the early to mid 1960s (not long after its release by Remo).
The larger of the two pads measures 8” diameter and is constructed with a wood bed covered by a metal rim. Inside the wood bed is a foam muffler covered with a real, tunable Weather King drum head. Below all of this is a Masonite platform that is tilted slightly to give a simulation of the tilt most drummers used in the 1960s; before the advent of modern marching drum carriers, snare drums were carried on the march with a simple webbed cotton sling and a leg rest, which caused the drum to tilt. (This historic “tilt” is why snare drummers have been using what we call “traditional” grip for centuries. Only when drums could be carried perfectly horizontal could drummers begin utilizing “matched” grip comfortably. Oddly, while most drum lines carry drums nearly horizontally now, most use traditional grip, which can place extra strain on the left hand as it’s require to twist farther away to pull the stick from the drum head. But I digress.)

Photos below show the construction of the older, 8” Remo pad.





The other pad was a gift from a fellow drummer back East, who offered to give it to me if I paid for postage. It’s a smaller, 6” diameter pad, with a large Masonite platform designed to allow the snare to be placed on top of a 14” snare drum — a throwback to the rubber pads designed by Billy Gladstone over a decade earlier, which serve as a muffler for the drum while practicing. Since this pad is not especially low-volume, putting it on a drum won’t create quite the same muffled effect; but perhaps some drummers found this feature useful. The 14” Masonite disc was offered as an optional accessory, sold separately and screwing into the threaded hole originally designed to mount the smaller pad on a cymbal stand. My disc came with some damage incurred in shipping, so I fashioned a small “washer” from cardboard that allowed me to re-center the disc under the pad. The cardboard is just stiff enough without adding additional pressure to the fragile, 60-year-old Masonite disc.



Pay close attention to these photos, because there will be another part to this exploration that will show off what I believe was the precursor to the tuneable pad, you’ll be able to see the differences in design that may have led Remo to his idea of a tuneable pad. (No spoilers if you think you know where I’m going with this; I’m waiting to hear back from folks at Remo for verification.)

Below, you’ll find videos comparing the 1960s version of the pad with my plastic-topped pad from the 1970s. While the 1970s pad feels familiar, I find I actually like playing the 60s pad a little more. The sound and response feel "beefier" to me, and I don't think it's only about the size difference, but the materials used as well. My guess is that plastic got less expensive to manufacture with and that helped fuel the switch from a wood and metal base to an all-plastic one.




I think the Remo tuneable pad still has a place in the drum universe; For untold millions of drummers it has been the gateway to sa lifetime of drumming joy. It remains a well-built and very affordable choice for students, and the replaceable head makes it a longer-lasting choice too.
I hope you've enjoyed this little trip down the Remo drum pad "rabbit hole," and don't forget there will be a third chapter to this exploration.
Happy drumming!

Vintage Corner: Remo Tunable Practice Pad, PART I

In the fall of 1973, I moved with my family  to Concord, California. I was in fifth grade, and finally old enough to join the school band.
I went to the music teacher and asked about my options for learning an instrument.
After I explained that my parents could not afford to rent an instrument from the music store, and that whatever I chose would have to be on loan from the school district, the band director told me there weren’t many loaner instruments available.
It also had to be something I could get to and from school on my bicycle, because this was the era of latchkey kids and learning self-sufficiency. Ultimately, the only remaining choice that appealed to me was to learn to play the drum. A practice pad and sticks cost less than ten dollars, fit easily in my backpack and was quiet enough to practice anywhere. Plus, Karen Carpenter was a drummer long before she ever began singing, and she was one of my childhood idols. So that decided it.

I was presented with a copy of the Belwin Band Builder, a pair of 5A Ludwig drum sticks and a Remo tunable practice pad. With a 6-inch diameter plastic head, it looked like the top of a drum, and when you played it, it sort of sounded like a little drum; plus, the head was tunable and if you broke it you could buy replacements — the sort of thing that was sure to please my economy-minded mother.

I wore that first pad out by the time I got to high school, going through two replacement heads before I had cracked the plastic rim. I saved up my babysitting and paper route money and bought another, larger Remo pad in an 8-inch diameter size, which got me through high school. By then, I had gravitated to other styles of practice pad (including scrap rubber duct-taped to a wooden plank), and it was a long time before I bought another Remo tunable pad.

Fast forward to 2005. I was inspired to audition for a community wind ensemble, and needed to fill in my meager supply of drum sticks, mallets and other ephemera. I also needed a practice pad, so I went looking for something cheap — and found a “vintage” 6-inch Remo tunable pad in its original box, with the paperwork. It was being sold as a “collectible” and cost me almost twenty bucks. As it happened, that vintage drum pad purchase became the foundation of the practice pad collection I have today. I wound up hardly using it for regular practice because I had found other, more modern pads that I preferred. So it has mostly sat on a shelf in its little cardboard box.

The Remo tunable practice pad remains a stalwart, the pad you start a beginner with because it’s durable, still quite affordable — and easy to find used at garage sales for even less than I’d paid for my very first pad. The pad is still in production today and remains a best-seller, ideal for student drummers on a budget and anyone else looking for something that just works; though the current version is mostly plastic throughout and has no metal platform to provide a slight tilt, as my old pads had. There's even a version called Silent Stroke, with a mesh head for much quieter practice.

Here’s a few photos of the pad I bought used some fifteen years ago, and the paperwork that came with it. My pad dates from the mid to late 1970s, and utilizes both a “tilt” platform and a threaded hole for mounting on a cymbal stand.

A little instruction booklet that came with the pad

(Click on each page to get a larger photo)

A letter from Remo Belli and a quality pledge. Did these things once matter to customers?

When my interest in collecting pads and researching their history expanded,  I found photos of an older version of this pad, made with a metal rim.

My next quest would be to find an older version of the Remo tunable pad so I could make comparisons. Stay tuned for Part II of this exploration into a really cool corner of practice pad history, and happy drumming.