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.

Vintage Corner: 1950s pad from Kitchen & Company, Leeds, UK.

This was a lucky find on eBay. I knew nothing about the design or the original company, but it was so unusual that I knew I wanted to add it to my collection. I contacted the seller and asked if she’d be willing to ship to the US, and she was delighted to calculate the cost.

It arrived today.

Based on how hard the rubber playing surface is, even accounting for its age, I think the pad might have been meant for pipe drummers. I have another pad of similar vintage (made in the US) using similar rubber and it’s only slightly softer than this. The pad itself measures 12 inches across. The arms extend out beyond the diameter of the wood base, but the placement of the softer gum rubber feet attached underneath suggest the pad could be used sitting atop a standard 14” snare drum. Despite its age, the gum rubber feet are still quite soft. I haven’t yet tried this on top of a snare drum, but that’s coming.

The age of the pad is unclear, but some clues suggest at least a rough decade of the 1950s:

— the wood is beautifully finished and stained like good furniture.

— the feet are the pure gum rubber found only on pads from the early 1950s or earlier.

— the badge is made of a thin white plastic, in a shape and size and with black embossed lettering, that is very similar to the badges used on Carradice bicycle saddlebags of the same era. (Carradice switched to cloth badges in the 1960s. I know this because when I worked in the bicycle industry, my shop sold Carradice bags and I’m familiar with that company’s history. I still use a Carradice bag on my bike today.)

I’ve reached out to a Leeds-based newspaper to see if they can help me research the history of R. S. Kitchen & Company. I will keep researching and report back with whatever I can find.

This is really unusual find both for geographical and historical reasons, and I’m thrilled to have found it.

I don’t own a set of pipe sticks (nor do I a know how to play in that style), but here’s a demo anyway.

Brush pads: extremely, painfully specialized

While the specialty pads that get the most press are focused on the marching arts, there’s a subset of practice pads designed for practicing brushes on.

When I was in college, my Dad played piano bar at a downtown nightclub. Very occasionally, I’d bring my brushes with me, and Dad would pull out the Yellow Pages, open them on the bar and let me quietly keep time while he played. The opened phone book had a great surface for brushes.

And it was free.

Since then, several drum companies have produced brush practice pads, with varying degrees of success.

Here are just a few that I’ve tried:

1. Remo Brush-Up pad. Designed with input from Ed Thigpen, a renowned master of brush playing, this was essentially a stiff rubber frame with a Remo Fyberskyn surface laid over a foam rubber mute. The pad worked as advertised, and was very quiet, but sold poorly and was only in production for a few years. If you can find one for sale online today, expect to pay several hundred dollars for it.

2. Brush Up pad by One Beat Better. This was  panel of wood with rubber nonskid strips on bottom and a clear textured coating on top. There was also a partial rim so you could practice rim rolls. Designed with input by Sherrie Maricle, this was a really nice practice item, just small enough to fit on top of a snare drum. It appears to be no longer available at this writing. 

3. Ahead 14-inch Brush Pad. Basic and useful, with a rubber side for stick practice and a textured side for brush practice. It just fits on a snare drum, or on a stand or tabletop. And it’s still available.

4. Attacktile by Evans. A recent entry into the market, this is an Evans rubber practice pad, based on MDF and topped by a rigid, textured layer. The playing surface is nice for brushes, but for some reason Evans chose to make this pad in a ten-inch size — not really large enough to practice full brush strokes. Also, the rigid surface has shown evidence of coming away from the base after a month or less of use, showing that the adhesion may need some more work. With adhesion improvement and a 14-inch size, this might be a really nice brush pad, but in my opinion the design needs some work.

5. Percussion Practice Pad by Pete Siers. Siers, a drummer and drum teacher, designed and made up a batch of these pads from Formica tile and at this writing is selling them online. The pad fits on top of a snare drum, but is also rigid enough to sit in a stand or on a tabletop. While the shiny side is the one intended for brushwork, I’ve found that the underside also works for a slightly different feel and sound. I recently acquired one of these and like it a lot. 

If the price of a brush-specific pad seems prohibitive — and I can’t blame you — you can look around for an old phone book. Or, since those are getting a lot harder to find in the Electronic Age, a 14” square or round of corrugated cardboard also works very well.

History lesson: the first Remo practice pads

The very first plastic drumhead was introduced to the market by Marion "Chick" Evans in 1956. It revolutionized drum heads overnight, leading the drum industry away from calfskin heads into a new age. Belli followed up very shortly after that with heads from a space-age material called Mylar, which proved wildly successful. Remo's heads were branded “Weather King” because they were nearly impervious to changes in temperature and humidity.

Belli founded a company around the new technology and along with drum heads, he began producing practice pads to show off the potential of the new material. These two pads date from 1958 and 1961, respectively. (Remo’s web site has a neat little timeline where you can see changes in the company logo, dated by year. It’s helpful to collectors in dating historic Remo products.)

The earliest Mylar heads were a tiny bit thicker than the tunable ones that followed. Still very resonant, but not quite as floppy-flexible. Stapled into the wood frame and stuffed with some kind of muffling foam that literally disintegrated with age so that now, they are just annoyingly loud. It feels like Formica if Formica had more give to it.

By the mid-1960s, the pads would become tunable, with metal rims, tuning screws and replacement heads — perhaps an early foray into sustainability, though no one was using that word in 1965. The late 60s saw plastic rims replacing the metal rims. This version of the tunable pad was the very first drum pad I learned on as a kid. I played that pad from 5th grade through my second year of college and three replacement heads along the way. While numerous other pad designs have supplanted the Remo pad, that pad is still in production today and literally millions of kids are still getting their start in drumming on one of those. It holds a dear place in my memory, and in my pad collection.

#knowyourhistory 

#sharethetradition 

#practicepads

Nothing but practice pads here.

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks taking a thorough inventory of my practice pads, both to accurately date them and also to determine if there are any holes I’d like to fill in the collection.

Bearing in mind that some pads I’d had earlier and sold when money got tight won’t come my way again, I’m refusing to cry over spilled milk by mourning their absence, and just Be Here Now. I know the guys I sold those pads to, and know they’re all in good homes. If I can find replacements for one or two, great. If not, oh well.

I did some straightening up in the studio and managed to get most of my pads on one wall. It’s a work in progress which will help as I dive into to further research for my history project.

It helps to be able to see them all when I’m looking for older pads, so that I can remind myself of what I already have and don’t need any more of. (How many more rubber-on-wood tilt pads do I need? Unless it’s a Slingerland Radio King, cloud badge model, I’m set for now.)

That said, I do have a few more of those older tilt pads coming my way this week and next, from a couple of drummers who are a good ten to twenty years older than me and who are downsizing. We connected in DrumSellers.com which is an online marketplace devoted to older vintage stuff, and which is also connected to the historic site Not So Modern Drummer, the drum history lesson side of things. NSMD and DrumSellers are owned and managed by George Lawrence, a drummer and longtime drum historian, and a heck of a nice fellow. He’s invited me to write an article for NSMD about practice pads, and I’ve agreed to do so later in the summer.

But first, while I take this deeper inventory I’m also trying to figure out how to compile all the information I’ve gathered so far, and organize it into something coherent. Much of it has been collected in the form of shirt articles here on my blog. Photos and illustrations exist mostly on my laptop, mostly in a 

Argue folder called Practice Pads. I’m looking at hours of painstaking searching and culling the pictures and then deciding what material from the blog will serve as a good foundation to build upon.

It’s been quite awhile since I embarked on a serious research project, and there are many more tools at my disposal now than there were back then. I’ll need some time to figure out which I can use efficiently, and which will simply take too long to learn how to use.

Knowing that at some point I, too, will need to downsize myself, I’m being pickier about what pads I bring into the house. Ideally, I’d love to find the Henry Adler convertible pad, but that’s so rare now I don’t expect to find one for myself. Otherwise, I’m mostly hunting for older pads with some history and some “beausage” (beauty through usage, a term coined by Grant Peterson at Rivendell Bicycle Works) attached to them. I like pads that come with provenance, with stories, attached to them. It’s that history which makes a pad much more interesting.

One of the pads that’s enroute to me is from a drummer on the NSMD list, who’s sending me a very old pad that belonged to his drum teacher, and who in turn had studied with the great drummer Roy Knapp. I’ll show and tell when it arrives.

This week, it’s hunkering down with my laptop and finding everything I’ve stored on it.

Happy chopping!