Tuesday, November 27, 2018

DIY practice drum: because why spend a fortune if you don't have to?

Gretsch recently brought out what they call a tuneable practice pad.
The thing is actually a single-headed 12-inch drum with a rubber insert mounted beneath an ordinary batter head. Finished in white marine pearl, it's very attractive.

The sound is rather loud for it to be called a "practice pad" when it's really just a muffled drum. Even with the rubber insert it's still pretty darned loud, too loud for warming up with in a hotel room on tour or practicing in the spare room at home without bothering someone.
(Don't believe me? Here's a video. You decide.)
It's also -- sit down -- $300 new.
Yeah, I know. That's crazy. Right?
Of course right. The most I've ever paid for a brand new practice pad was the $42 I spent on a Xymox 12" reserve snare pad. 
(It was a seasonal half-price sale and I jumped on it back in early September. I'm not holding my breath and I expect to see it sometime next summer if I'm lucky. Xymox supply issues are beyond the scope of this blog post.)

Still, it sounded like a cool idea. So I cast around the piles of junk in my studio to see what I had that I could turn into something similar, mostly for the fun of proving a cheapskate point of view.

Sitting in the corner was a 10-inch kiddie snare drum with a Gammon badge on it. I scored it for $4 at my local Goodwill a couple summers ago, thinking it might come in handy for a PreK music class. I never got hired to teach that class, and so the drum sat collecting dust.

Until tonight.

First, I took the drum entirely apart. My readers mostly know how a snare drum, even a really cheap one, is constructed, so I felt no need to photopgraph that part. I pulled the snare mechanism -- something shockingly similar to Remo's Rhythm Bucket snare assembly but with quasi adjustability -- seriously, Gammon should sue Remo -- and I chucked it. It was really that bad.

Then, I inserted pieces of cotton ball into each lug to quiet the springs inside.
Finally, I lightly sanded the edges of the wooden shell with very fine sandpaper.
Then I reassembled it.

Because I knew I wanted something at least a little quieter than the Gretsch, I decided to lay an old t-shirt across one side, underneath the head. I pulled the shirt taut as I tightened the drumhead on that side. When I was done, I trimmed away the excess.
Before replacing the other head, I placed an entire pair of old sweatpants inside the drum. It filled the drum without packing it super-tightly, which was what I'd hoped for. Then, I installed the other drumhead and rim.

When I was finished, I had a small, unassuming little practice drum.
Yes, it's hideous Pepto pink, and it only has four lugs, but what do you expect from a four-dollar kiddie drum at Goodwill? 































The prooif is in the playing. And even though I'm doing this without my usual morning warmup routine (soaking my arthritic hands in warm water for a few minutes in the morning makes a huge difference!), it still doesn't sound terrible. And I'll bet it's even a little quieter than the practice-pad-that's-really-a-drum up top there.
Would it sound and feel different if I removed the stuffing, or removed even half of it? Probably. But for now I'm going to live with it this way and see how I like it in the longer run.

Snce I now seem to be getting a tiny bit of traction here at this brand-new blog, you should know that on Thursday I'm heading out on a tour (in my day job capacity as a Jewish artist- and educator-in-residence), and I'll be busy through December 11. So I've prepared a couple of posts that will be time-released on December 3 and 9. Stay tuned!

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Pad du Jour: Cappella "Rite Touch" pad, 1980s (?)

Cappella was a company based in New Jersey. Between the 1960s and the 1980s they manufactured sticks for many companies, including Rogers, Slingerland, Gretsch and Ludwig; sticks made by Cappella on contract would simply be stamped with the desired brand name.
They also manufactured sticks under their own brand name, which were fine in their own right. A number of pro players had signature sticks made by Cappella, including Joe Morello, Jeff Hamilton and Bun E. Carlos.

Cappella also made practice pads, both under their own name and also branded for Beato (another stick company).

(The company was acquired by J.P. Loria Musical Products in 1999, after both of the original owners had died. Since then, production of Cappella products has gone from spotty to nonexistent; I suspect that the company was eventually phased out under the new owners. I haven't heard of any new Cappella products being manufactured in awhile.)

I came across this Rite Touch pad, which I believe was made in the 1980s.
It's really a quiet practice pad, designed for hotel room warmups on the go. For a two-sided pad it's very lightweight, weighing less than my single-sided Real Feel pad of similar size.

Because it's lightweight, I set it on a larger, heavier pad and that helps a little bit with skidding.

The playing surfaces on both aides are of different thicknesses, but both use a close-cell foam instead of a harder gum rubber. As a result, this pad will make you work a little harder to get diddles and double-bounce rolls even and smooth. That's not a bad thing.



 Below: A little vid of me playing Muhammad Ascik's Triplet Diddle exercise in each side of the pad. Even the thinner side, which offers just slightly more rebound, still makes me work a bit for even bounces. Sometimes I like to slow things down and rebuild them stroke by stroke.

 
Because this is a thirty-year-old pad, I'm not inclined to travel with it; but I do like pulling it out now and then to give my hands a change of pace.

Cappella also manufactured special aluminum "practice" sticks, designed to strengthen the hands during practice pad work. I'm on the hunt for a pair of these for my collection. Stay tuned.



Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Pad du Jour: 1940s Globe

Periodically I'll share a photo from my vintage practice pad collection.

Today, I'm sharing an old favorite.
This pad, labeled "The Globe", was made in the 1940s or possibly 1950s. The rubber may or may not be original. And the pad may have been manufactured FOR Globe by another company. (This happens quite a bit in the world of practice pads, making research a little more challenging.)

It's one of my favorite pads both for its looks -- that gorgeous patina and age -- and its sound and feel.
The rubber on this pad and the firm attachment to the wood black make for a generous, gentle rebound of the sticks, ideal for arthritic hands like mine on the creakiest, coldest mornings.
Below: Photos of the pad, followed by a video from last summer that gives you an idea of how it sounds.

I welcome opinions, information and leads on more research about this and other vintage practice pad designs and makers. Happy drumming!




Tuesday, November 20, 2018

welcome to drumlove

I've decided to create a new blog devoted to my first musical love.
Before I ever picked up a guitar, before I ever sang in public, I played drums.
I began with a friend's Hoppity Hop (remember those bouncy-ride toys from the 1970s?), and soon progressed to a set of toy bongos my Dad bought for me at Frontier Village theme park in San Jose.
I was eight, and my bongos became my friend. I played them all the time.
In fifth grade, I joined the school band and learned to play snare drum, bass drum, and eventually all the instruments of concert percussion. In high school, I became my wind ensemble's principal tympanist (mostly because I have perfect pitch and because my section leader had little interest in playing anything other than snare drum. Classic.)

Along the way, I also got into pageantry arts education (marching band, drum and bugle corps, etc.); opened a private percussion studio; and made a nice side-career teaching high school drum lines and marching bands; and played for a few bands in clubs in and around Portland.

Twenty years ago, the percussion came to a halt when I was riding my bike and won the "door prize" (a euphenism for getting hit by an opening truck door). The damage to my hands was severe and the residual effects (early-onset arthritis, joint stiffness and pain in changing humidity) have been lifelong. I had to give up timpani and mallets, the two sets of instruments required a certain kind of muscular dexterity I could no longer attain. After establishing myself as a guitar playing singer-songwriter, I returned to rudimental drumming mostly for fun. My chops aren't what they were when I was young, and probably never will be; but I've gotten enough juice back to enjoy myself and to create a daily meditative practice around rudimental drumming on a rubber practice pad.

I've also become an enthusiastic collector of vintage practice pads, and a researcher of historic developments and patents for pad designs. (The header photo shows a few of the pads in my collection.)

Today, I still pursue my career as a touring Jewish musician, traveling to synagogues, camps and JCC's as an artist/educator-in-residence. However, I've made a little more room in my daily musical life for rudimental drumming, hand drumming and creating percussion instruments from repurposed and found objects.

I'll use this blog to share research, photos of interesting practice pads, videos of drumming in action, and bits and pieces of my renewed drumming adventures. Stay tuned! (Below: a sample of my return to drumming, reading from my old NARD book. Cheers!)