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. Pre-wend 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 versioning n of his signature pads 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.

There was 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, and continues to innovate new pad designs 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.

Pad Interestingness: a roundup of recent activity

In the last week or so, I’ve been devoting time to all sorts of pad research, DIT an improvements and a couple of acquisitions. Here's a roundup.

1. Vintage practice pads made using solid wood can be far more resonant — and louder! — than later pads using plywood. I like to make mutes for these older pads I’m scrap foam. This is my latest, using leftover scraps of ensolite camping pad material that I stacked, glued and shaped to fit. Works beautifully.

2. In high school, my section leader acquired a brand new pad that had just come out, called the Trankle Pocket Pad. He had money and his parents got him whatever drum gear he needed or wanted. The pad wasn’t cheap — over $20 in 1979! — but after trying it we all wanted one. I finally got one in college, and took it everywhere with me. But by the mid 1980s the company had folded and suddenly you couldn’t find the pads anymore. I sold that original pad to a classmate and always regretted it.

Last week, I bought another from a guy who’d had it since college. When it arrived, I could see and feel that the gum rubber was in bad shape, so I decided to replace it. It’s not pretty but it does work, and I’m happy with the results.

3. Six months ago, this little pad appeared in an online ad. The seller had offered it with sticks and an old woodblock, all from his uncle’s estate. He wanted $60 cash, in-person for the lot. I asked about buying just the pad but at the time he didn’t want to ship. So I thanked him, and waited. Occasionally, I’d check to see if the listing was still active. Two weeks ago, the pad appeared in a new listing by itself, now for far less money. I reached out to the seller and asked if he’d consider shipping it to me. He agreed. I mailed him a money order, he mailed me the pad and now it’s here. It’s the only pad from Pep Products (a small drum parts manufacturer based in Kankakee, Illinois during the mid-twentieth century) that I’ve seen that wasn’t made of a solid block of rubber.

It’s a calfskin head stretched over some kind of frame — plastic? Wood? I’m not sure — and mounted on a small wood platform with a tilt built in. It’s a small, delicate thing, likely from the late 1940s or early 50s, and I wouldn’t chop seriously on it at this point. But I’m thrilled to have this here for examination and research. If anyone can share more info about the Pep Products company, I’d be grateful.

Happy drumming!

Pecker Pads update

A few months ago I bought a practice pad made by Pecker Pads, of Wills Point, Texas. I liked the pad for its size and articulation, and tried to find out more about the company.

A few weeks ago, a second Pecker pad appeared online and I decided to buy it. It arrived today and there are differences in appearance and dimensions.

Pad #1 appears to have been made earlier, as the label on the bottom has a city and zip code. This pad has a relatively flat top covered by a very thin layer of foam and a Remo Ambassador head. With only four tuning nodes, very high tension is not possible — or needed.

Pad #2 was made later in the company’s short history. Chromed labels adorn the top and bottom of the wood base (stained black) and the rim. This pad uses a thicker foam layer that is curved, with thicker foam at the center, and covered by an old Attack head. The inner portion of the wood base is taller than on the first pad, allowing for a wider tuning range; but with the same four tuning nodes this pad can’t be tuned super high.

I suspect that the head on the first pad is a replacement from a later date. The head on the second pad may be original to that pad as it uses the original Attack logo from the late 1980s.

(Attack was later bought by Cardinal Percussion in 2017, and then sold to Grover Percussion in 2025.)

You can see and hear the difference between the two pads in the photos and video.

I suspect that the Pecker Pad Company was only in existence for a few years, in the mid to late 1980s and possibly into 1990. I can’t find any information about the company. Wills Point is a small town of around 4,000 in east Texas, and neither the Chamber of Commerce nor the county archives can produce any history of the company.

It is highly possible that the company remained very small and may have never filed articles of incorporation (since such things weren’t regulated as strictly back then, especially in more rural areas). The label on the newer pad doesn’t indicate a location, so it’s possible the company and its maker moved elsewhere before folding up shop.

I like both pads a lot. Neither is terribly loud, which is nice when you live with other people. The 8” size isn’t optimal for anything beyond warming up and accuracy, but it’s portable and very fun.

If anyone can offer more specifics for me to follow up on, I’d be grateful.

DIY Project: refurbishing and improving a favorite practice pad

In 2023, I purchased a custom pad from Rudimental Control. When I got my pad, I was pleased with the appearance and the performance.

But I was also a little concerned about the potential for the pad eventually bottoming out with use and compression. The inner platform had a lower profile than subsequent versions and over time the metal hoop made contact with the wood outer platform, limiting my ability to achieve good tension.

After I purchased  a newer generation of a pad from the same company, with rounded edges and a taller profile, I knew that I would want to find a way to raise the profile on my first-generation pad. While Rudimental Control made the very kind offer of taking back my first generation pad for modification at no additional charge, I decided that I really wanted to make this a DIY project.

Since I don't own power tools, I knew I’d have to work entirely by hand. The plan as I envisioned it below was to slice the inner base horizontally, and add another layer of wood in between the two halves. I ordered a  13” diameter x 1/2” thick wood round from a guy on Etsy, and hoped it would arrive around the time the sawing was done.

I marked where I thought the line ought to be, a process made easier by following the edge between two layers of the ply. Then, I wrapped the edge of the outer base in several layers of shop towels and clamped that into my bench vise.

And I began to carefully saw through the center of the inner base. I began with a fine-toothed Japanese pull-saw, to take my time, maintain control and avoid damaging the wood too much.

Over time, I was able to switch to a standard (American-style) hand saw so I could make faster progress. It took several days of short sawing sessions, taking time and care and giving my hand a rest before resuming again in several hours or the next day. It took me about five days doing it this way, which made it easier on my hands and gave the Etsy order time to be shipped.

It was slow going, and I was fine with that.

Finally, a couple of days ago, I was able to separate the two halves. As I’d expected, there was some stray pieces of wood that came off on either side from the ply and the glue. I carefully chipped away the biggest pieces and sanded the rest reasonably flat on each side.

The Etsy order arrived early this morning. I sanded the edges slightly round, and roughed up the smooth sides of the new “slice” so the glue would adhere better. I knew that there would be gaps, but I wasn’t worried about those. Any small gaps would be filled in a little by the wood glue under compression, and any larger gaps could be filled in after that with some wood filler and sealed with more glue. I’m not a woodworker and don’t pretend to be; and as long as 90% of the wood was in contact with the first glueing and compression during drying, I wasn’t worried. 

Glueing, Part One: middle slice and bottom of inner base. Instructions said to keep clamped for 30 minutes. I let it sit for two hours while I went to grab some lunch with my sister.

Since I don’t have any fancy woodworking clamps, I applied wood glue, centered it carefully by hand and waited five minutes, then let go and set a wine case and a cinder block on top of it to weight it down. Using the wine case [empty] would spread the weight out over the surface of the base, and the cinder block would center the weight for a firm bond.

After lunch, I removed the cinder block and wine case, checked my work, and repeated the process with the top of the sawn base, glueing it to the “slice” and putting back the wine case and cinder block. I left this overnight.

Next step: applying filler to the biggest gaps between the middle and top sections and letting them dry. Knowing that there would be gaps around the outer edges of the layers, I saved all the sawdust, poured it into the gaps and chased it with Elmers Glue-All. When that stuff hardens, it’s a solid. 

Doing a quarter at a time and allowing gravity and drying to do the rest made a difference. Since Elmer’s has a relatively short drying time of a few hours, it took most of a day for this part of the process.

However, just to be on the safe side, I decided to let this application sit weighted down overnight and into the next morning.

When the Elmer’s had dried completely, I sanded it lightly and applied a clearcoat by hand to protect the edges and seal everything.

Then I was ready to reassemble with a new pinstripe head.

After I installed the new head, I let it sit for another half a day, in case any more glue might seep out. It did, and I carefully wiped it away.

Aaaand done. Pinstripe head didn’t make me happy so I swapped in an Emperor head and it’s *much* nicer now.

Arthritis hands post-lawn mowing, but I don’t care. I’m really happy with how this turned out.

And I’m honored that Rudimental Control included this pad in their custom gallery. It’s still a good-looking pad, I play it nearly every day and I would heartily recommend Rudimental Control pads to any drummer looking for a craft-made, serious practice tool.

And if you buy a Rudimental Control pad now, in 2026, rest assured that it will have rounded edges and a higher profile, so that it will never need to be modified in this way. 

Lesson? If you like a pad but want it to be even better, don’t be afraid to experiment and get your hands dirty. The worst thing that can happen is you might have to replace some parts. And you can do this with any well-built tunable practice pad (and, if you’re careful, some rubber-on-wood pads as well).

Vintage update: Sam Ulano’s King Size Pad, refurbished

Remember when I got this gigantic practice pad?

I was thrilled to add this vintage pad to my stable. But I was also really nervous, because the large slab of gum rubber was showing its age. I worried that I’d ended up with a museum piece rather than a playable vintage pad. My goal with nearly all of my vintage pads is that while they’re historic, they should also be in decent enough shape to at least offer a short demonstration if asked.

I sat on this pad for a couple of months and asked around about ways to restore the rubber. After not getting a reassuring answer from anyone at local hardware stores or the handful of woodworkers I know, I weighed whether or not replacing the gum rubber would make sense. Gum rubber from fifty or more years ago is unlike what industrial suppliers call gum rubber today, and I worried I’d lose the feel by replacing it.

Finally, today promised to be a sunny, dry day and I decided it was time to act. I’d gently pry up the original rubber. If it was too degraded, I’d replace it with a new piece cut to the same size.

I took a deep breath, applied a thin flathead screwdriver to one edge of the rubber slab, and gently began to pry up the rubber. I took my time and pried a tiny little bit at a time before taking the whole slab in my hands and slowly tugging on it. To my relief, it came up in one piece. I was surprised to see that it was almost 1/2” thick, rather than a more standard 1/4”. 

(The top of the gum rubber, a

Ready hardened and crumbling, cracked even more as I pulled it up.)

To my even greater relief, the rubber was only degraded (by air, light, and time) less than 1/8” down; the other side of the slab was like almost new. Whatever glue had been used to adhere the rubber into the wooden frame had stayed with the wood. 

All of this meant that I could simply flip the rubber over and glue the old side down into wood frame, and the fresh side could be the new playing surface.

I lightly sanded the wood frame, applied a thin layer of wood hardener, and set it in the sun to dry. Out in the sun, it took about five hours to dry thoroughly. (I was careful not to get any hardener on the hard rubber surface on the reverse side.)

When the hardener was dry, I lightly scuffed up both the wood surface inside the frame and what used to be the top of the rubber slab, wiped off the excess crumbs from the rubber and the wood, and applied the glue.

Then I carefully pressed the rubber back into the frame. It was a snug fit and I took my time to make sure it would be fully seated all the way around. Then I weighted down the rubber and let it sit for two hours. This evening, I checked my work, and was happy with how it had turned out.

I tried it out and noticed that without the thin hardening on the top of the rubber, the feel and response is a touch softer now. I think this will be best with concert or drum kit sticks. With 1/2” of rubber, marching sticks will feel a bit sluggish, and I suspect that’s not what Sam designed these pads for anyway.

In case there’s still an odd smell — I was born without an olfactory sense so I can’t tell — I’m letting it air out overnight in the shed, right next to the open screen window. It should be ready to bring into the house tomorrow.