When is a piece of vinyl not a piece of vinyl?

Awhile back, I offered a post about specialty brush pads. My discussion was limited, partly because I didn’t own many myself and partly because there was a lot of redundancy of design and construction among the pads available.

After I shared a link to the post on the socials, Anthony Stanislavski reached out to let me know about his brush pad, being made by Prologix. It was essentially a piece of thick vinyl with a coating and graphics showing the path each hand should take while playing brush beats, with a thin nonskid surface affixed to the bottom. At the time, it sold for over $50, which I thought was a little ridiculous at the time. I carried on and forgot about it.

Now, Stanislavski has gone independent of Prologix and is selling the same design at his own web site. It’s the very same item sans the Prologix branding, and it sells for $70.

I can’t know what prompts artists to step out from behind their endorsing brand and go it alone — or elsewhere — though this isn’t the first time someone has done so. It won’t be the last, either. Retail is a fickle mistress and market forces currently require companies to scale up in order to remain profitable. If the item doesn’t keep up with the scale, it gets dropped. If a company can’t scale up, it folds (as was the case with One Beat Better, which made one of the smartest brush pad designs ever and sadly couldn’t compete with the mega-companies) or is bought out by a larger company (as Prologix did with the original makers of the Chopping Block practice pad — they leveraged their size and scale to merge with the smaller business and then came up with a redesigned version that frankly isn’t as nice).

Here’s the original “Choppin’ Block” pad.

If you click on the link it will still take you to Synced Up’s web page, but you’ll find that the original design is gone, replaced with the new version being sold in “partnership” with Prologix, which is making the pad.

In fact, within weeks of the change, nearly all references to the original pad were gone from the Internet, no doubt erased by Prologix’s request in order to concentrate attention and clicks on the new version.

The speed of the change resonated with me in a negative way, though I can’t exactly articulate why.

But I digress.

The challenge with this vinyl sheet brush pad is the retail price. It could easily be replicated at home by anyone with access to an old industrial binder cover (made of flexible vinyl and large enough to cut a 13” circle out of), some neoprene and some superglue. Add your own graphics with a ruler and permanent paint pen, clearcoat as needed, let dry and voila! You’ve got the same thing for less than ten bucks.

However, the other reality is that there are fewer and fewer Americans who know how to work with their hands in even the most elemental ways. 

Before computers became ubiquitous, generations of ordinary people knew how to do simple repairs around the house, like taping and repainting a room, hanging Sheetrock, repairing a broken table leg with glue and a wooden dowel, and even making their own practice pads. I have a number of user-made pads in my collection, some dating from as late is the 1960s and the oldest dating from the 1930s. The earliest known commercially sold pad dates from the early 1910s and can be found in the 1912 Ludwig & Ludwig catalog. It consists of a circle of solid maple covered with a calfskin head and stuffed with wool until firm. It’s meant to provide the same feel as a drum (which in those days also used calf heads and lower tension than we know today) with far less volume.

 

 

 

 

 

It could easily be made at home today. And if I can get my hands on a broken calf head I might give it a try. But almost no one else these days is interested in making their own stuff -- either because they can't imagine how, or because they don't want to get their hands dirty.

And that’s why there will be ready buyers for these new brush pads, just as there are ready buyers for any of the cheap, mass-produced practice pads on the market. The combination of consumer trends, educational and workplace demands and the entire generational shift of the last thirty years has resulted in a landscape where people are willing to pay far too much money for mass-produced stuff that involves little or no real craft.

 There are, of course, practice pads on the market that are made one at a time by people who understand the value of craft and how that translates to quality and durability. I've mentioned many of those makers elsewhere in my blog so I don't need to re-list them here.
But if you want those craft makers to continue doing what they do, support them by buying their products and encouraging your friends and students to do the same.  That's the only way those craftspeople can stay in business and not be entirely subsumed by mega-corporations that put quantity and profit above quality.

And if you want to make your own brush pad, there are numerous materials out there that are free for the taking which you can experiment with. Those gigantic industrial binders can be found at many businesses that are going fully electronic, and they'll happily give you one or two before tossing the rest. Neoprene wetsuits make great nonskid material and can be found cheap whenever someone needs to replace theirs due to sizing or age. Yoga ats are also a fine nonskid material and can sometimes be found for free at the curb. Hardware stores sell industrial-strength scissors that will allow you to cut through these materials -- buy two or three sets and keep them handy for all your craft projects. (And remember to work outside when using super-glue or any other industrial adhesive so the off-gases have time to dissipate into the atmosphere!)

The mega-companies will keep making their cheap stuff and using every tool they have to steer drummers -- especially kids -- towards their products. The best thing any of us can do is to show up at the park or band practice with something more sustainably made and chop on it.

Happy drumming!

Pad storage for obsessives

So I admit to having a little obsession with practice pads. 🤣

I’ve always loved chopping on practice pads, since I started playing drums in 1973. Apartment life necessitated most of that; but even after moving into a real house I still loved practicing on pads because they were cheaper and more portable than drums.

I decided to get serious about researching and collecting some years ago, and figured it would be easier to store pads than drums. Now that I’m retired, the question of what to do with all the pads has crept into my conversations regularly.

Every time I think about downsizing a pad, the universe drops three more into my lap. Some get donated to schools (always a good idea!), and the rest are sold or kept.

I’m blessed with a studio space that came with some built-in shelves, but I’ve also had to use all of the available space wisely because there are limits. 

Office file racks, fine china display hangers and kitchen lid and pan racks have all made it easier to store my pads safely and neatly. Here are my solutions, sourced mostly at yard sales and thrift shops. Perhaps they will inspire you to come up with your own. 

Happy chopping!

It was loud. It was sweet.

Walking over to my local park yesterday with my drum took a few more spoons out of me than I thought it would. Long Covid is the gift that keeps on giving, I guess.

Still, I managed to go out before the day warmed up too much, and after catching my breath I managed to crank out a few things, including my absolute favorite, “Crazy Army.”

Then I went home and crashed. All good.

Happy Independence Day

Being a Rudimental drummer in Portland, Oregon is lonely. It’s not exactly a hotbed of rudimental drumming, nor of the marching arts, nor, to be brutally honest, of displays of patriotism in general.

But in honor of our nation’s 250th birthday, I’m going to take my marching snare to my local park Saturday evening and chop some Three Camps, Crazy Army and maybe a couple of Wilcoxon or NARD solos. 

I don’t expect anyone to join me, and I’ve decided to be okay with that. As long as I can still chop, I’ll keep on chopping until my arms fall off.

#diddleseveryday

#chopdaily

#rudimentaldrumming

The Emperor Has No Clothes: Botello pad, v. 2

Last fall, Carlos Botello discontinued his partnership with Beetle Percussion and asked them to stop making his signature pad.

Just a month before the PASIC convention, Botello jumped ship to Salyers Percussion. The whole business was covered by me in a previous blog post and all over the Internet by tons of other drummers.

I hadn’t named the artist before, but by now it seems pointless not to.

Botello posts numerous videos of his demonstrations of various drum licks and exercises from his Left Hand Path drum books on YouTube and Facebook. Many of those older videos are still up, which get reposted regularly to steer people to his instruction books, and feature the old version of his signature pad.

New videos are featuring the Salyers version of his signature pad, which is mass-produced in China, and at first they seemed ordinary, though the sound of the new pad was noticeably different from that of the older Beetle version. The new pad sounded harsh and tight, without the depth of tone from the previous Beetle edition. Botello insisted this new version was a “truth” pad, one where you couldn’t hide from your mistakes. It was a rather sad attempt to sell a lesser product. He gamely carried on with it. Meanwhile the price of a Beetle version of the pad, no longer in production, jumped as scarcity grew. Beetle Botello pads now fetch as much as $150 in the used market, and mint versions can go as high as $200.

Lately, however, some new videos have popped up, and they show an interesting development.

The rubber “rim” that encircles half of the Salyers pad has had issues from the beginning. It didn’t stay put in the channel carved into the pad’s base, it disintegrated with heavy rimshots, and buyers complained loudly. After much cry and hue, Salyers and Botello announced that a new, improved version of this signature pad was “in development.” That was months ago, and nothing has appeared so far.

Botello’s newest videos show the Salyers version of the pad being played with the rubber “rim” facing away from the drummer, and the pad is now covered completely with an add-on laminate.

From a marketing standpoint, this is not a good look. It betrays the original premise of the design, and betrays consumers by admitting that the new design is a failure, not living up to what was promised.

Predictably, there has been deafening silence from Salyers (who, as I’ve said before, do not manufacture any of their own products), and no comment from Botello, who keeps posting videos with his new and unimproved signature pad and pushing his instruction books.

I own a Beetle version of the Botello signature pad. While laminates aren’t generally my thing — I’m an old fart who marched with Mylar — I like it as a reminder that laminates don’t have to suck. It’s an innovative pad with a nice feel and depth of tone, and I enjoy chopping on it periodically.

Beetle has largely recovered from this sudden and unfortunate episode, and continues to innovate new pad designs, craft-made in the US with sustainably sourced materials.

It’s not clear how Carlos Botello has rebounded, or if he will survive this chapter in his professional journey. I wish him luck, and hope he lands on his feet. I just don’t think he’ll do it with a company that cranks out cheap Chinese pads, sticks and mallets by the hundreds of thousands and is slow to respond to issues when they arise.

Chop on.

DIY Drummer: repairing and restoring a Beetle Last Pad

The Beetle Last Pad originally came as a doublesided pad with two playing surfaces and long tension bolts holding it all together. It was capable of very high tension and meant for modern marching drummers who wanted a pad with a Kevlar head on one side and a Mylar head on the other. 

Later, Beetle released a singlesided version of the Last Pad, meant for lower tension and a Mylar head. It was sold as a pad meant for old-school rudimental drummers, and if you installed a coated head it was also good for brushes. (I have such pad and to my surprise it has become my favorite brush pad, though I also like to chop rope drum style on it. The foam insert makes it feel very buttery.)

The seller bought a singlesided Last Pad and proceeded to assemble it with a Kevlar head and high tension — *not* what it was designed for. I’d guess he did this to save money, since the doublesided version costs far more. (The singlesided Last Pad currently retails for $180; the doublesided version costs $260. Both are worth the price when you take into account the sustainability and the amount of care and craft involved in their construction.

This singlesided Last Pad became available on eBay a couple months ago, and I watched it with interest.

Originally, the seller wanted $180 plus nearly $90 in shipping.

His description: “Beetle pad I bought not too long ago but don’t want anymore. Has some cracks from running but have changed the head with the cracks there, just don’t tune it too high. It has a Remo White Max Head.”

Sadly, in the process he cranked the tension so high — which is necessary for a Kevlar head — that he cracked the baseplate in the process.

I figured that the damage was rough, but repairable. I made a much lower offer, which was rebuffed. So I watched the listing and waited. So did at least fifteen other people.

I watched and waited for over a month, and the price fell over time. Finally, when the price fell to under a hundred bucks and the shipping became, frankly, more realistic, I felt ready to bite the bullet. I bought the pad and planned on repairing the baseplate with wood glue and clamps, and would see how it turned out. (I also planned to swap in an Emperor head and use lower tension.)

The pad arrived about a week later. The seller had simply tossed it in a box without any packing material. The cardboard box was ripped apart and crudely taped up again. The pad had bounced around inside the box and there was far more damage to baseplate than the listing photos had shown.

I gave the seller a mediocre review and told him to do better. Then I turned my attention to the pad.

I took it apart, and discovered that the previous owner had cranked down the tension so much that two of the bolts snapped when I tried to loosen them. Additionally, ten of the twelve washers were malformed from overtensioning. There were only single, large washers, not the second set of smaller washers that my singlesided Last Pad had come with.

I set aside the head, rim and bolts, and got to work on the baseplate.

Detensioning the hardware made the cracks narrower, so I had to slip a flathead screwdriver into the crack and widen it a little. I poured some wood glue into the crack, pressed it in with my finger and poured some more. Finally, I clamped the crack closed.

I repeated this with the crack in the second and third areas of damage, and set the baseplate aside to dry.

Then, I slipped the big washers into my bench vise and straightened them as best I could. That turned out fine and I felt comfortable reusing them at lower tension.

I chatted with Bradley at Beetle, who confirmed that this was probably a very early release of the singlesided Last Pad because it used only large washers. Subsequent versions have included two sets of washers and this works far better in terms of strength and durability.

I went through my parts bin and came up with replacement bolts and a set of smaller washers (old bicycle axle washers, nice and thick!) to add to the assembly.

Then, I waited for the glue to dry. Because I couldn’t be sure how far down into the cracks the glue could seep, I left the baseplate clamped all day. When I removed the clamps in the evening, the repair held solidly. Before stopping for the night, I drilled some vertical holes through the baseplate, two at each repair area, to receive hardwood dowels for greater stability.

The next day I got the fluted hardwood dowels to glue into the six stabilizer holes I’d drilled. The flutes carved into the dowel allow for glue to set in firmly with the wood and create a better bond and seal. When I ran this by Bradley, he suggested that the glue would do the job all by itself and that perhaps the dowels were overkill; but the bicycle mechanic in me really wanted to make sure the repaired baseplate wouldn’t come apart under stress. 

Valchromat (aka ForesCore), the material that is used in the baseplates and inserts of all Beetle pads that aren't built around solid wood, is made from compressed, finely ground wood fiber and a special glue. This is basically like MDF, but Valchromat uses very little formaldehyde and is much safer than ordinary MDF. Also, it's impregnated with color during the compression process so when you chip or scuff it, you don't lose color the way you would with wood that has simply been painted externally. It's also harder than MDF, and therefore a much better material all around. 

That said, if you're going to sand or drill Valchromat, it's still important to do so in a well-ventilated area and wear eye and mouth protection. Safety first!

In this photo, you can see where I’d had to build up the edges of the baseplate that had broken off. For this, I sanded everything, applied scotch tape around the missing part of the edge to form a “wall,” and poured in the glue to set overnight. When I removed the tape in the morning, a tiny bit of wet glue beneath seeped out, causing a slight collapse of the “wall.” Enough of the glue had dried that I didn’t worry about it. I knew that there would be enough of a repaired edge for my purposes, let the remainder of the glue dry and called it good.

The pad came with a 3/16” tire rubber insert, which would normally be too hard for my tastes. Bradley offered to make me a new insert with gum rubber so I could achieve something much closer to the feel of my 15” marching snare drum. While waiting for that, I decided to assemble the pad with the parts I have and see how I like it.

I let the glued dowels dry all day, and shortly before dinner time I assembled the pad with what I had on hand, including the harder insert and an old Emperor head. While I’m glad to experience the 3/16” recycled tire insert under a tuned head, it’s not really my thing and I will replace it with either a thin gum rubber insert or a 1/4” recycled tire insert, either of which will feel a little nicer for my hands. And I have a new Emperor suede head on order at Revival that should be here next week. 

Gosh, what a cool pad. I’m happy to have a second Last Pad for harder Mylar chopping, and thrilled to have repaired this at home.

(I was tempted for about twenty seconds to send the video to the seller, but my schadenfreude doesn’t run quite that deep. Mom raised me better than that.)

If you want a Last Pad, both versions are available on the Beetle Percussion web site, and are worth every penny.

Happy chopping.

Homemade pad Number 18: Ta-daaaaah!

Since I started making pads at home fifteen years ago, I’ve counted them up.

Based on that count, this is Pad Number 18.

Made from scrap wood, 1/4” gum rubber, wood glue and a few stabilizing screws.

The number is from an old telephone pole numbering system that dates from the 1960s. I scored this when an old pole was replaced and I asked the workers if I could have the old numbers. They shrugged and told me to help myself.

Why eighteen?

In the Jewish tradition, the number eighteen carries significance. Its Hebrew spelling translates to the word “life.” Multiples of eighteen are seen as multiplying life.

Since practice pads are a significant part of my pleasure in life, I saved those tin numbers for my eighteenth homemade pad. Here it is and it’s a keeper.