Recycle everything: drum mute

New slippers for Chanukah meant repurposing the old ones, lined with fake shearling, covered with boiled wool and trimmed in suede.

The materials will be handy for recovering old mallets, and for this little snare mute I whipped up tonight. It has suede on one side and boiled wool on the other, and saved me twenty bucks I could have spent on a factory-made model.

The world is filled with stuff that can be repurposed to make other stuff. Just look around.

And have a happy 2023.

Product Review: Tackle Instrument Coffee Table Practice Pad

 Tackle Instrument Supply makes gorgeous bags and other accessories for drummers.

Among their more, um, fancy offerings is what they call the Coffee Table Practice Pad.

I got one, new in the box, as part of a large trade.

It’s very attractive, with a walnut wood base, a suede surface on the bottom to reduce skidding and a tanned leather playing surface of 6 inches. It’s a small boutique item, not designed for heavy use but rather something to mess around with in a waiting room of a studio.

As a boutique item, the pad does exactly what it’s meant to do. And it does function as a quiet drum pad.

However, even for a boutique pad I’d want to play on something a little heavier than this. The pad weighs just over 10 ounces, making it very light and prone to bouncing on any accented notes. (By contrast, the Coda practice pad weighs 15 ounces, and my homemade mini pad weighs about 20.)

The playing surface is quiet, and requires a more work from the Drummer than most modern marching pads. With a little finger and wrist action you can get a decent bounce, but you have to work for it. I’d say the feel is similar to that of a 15 inch marching drum from the 1940s or 50s. I don’t think there’s rubber underneath the leather but cannot confirm that.

I also cannot confirm where or how it’s made, or by whom. (After recent events around my informing readers of a lack of provenance of another product, I am hesitant to venture too deeply into the manufacturing provenance. But based on the widespread availability of this item from various retailers, it’s possible that Tackle may not make these pads in-house. Further inquiry is up to you, dear readers.

This is not a real practice pad as such, but a boutique item that is beautifully made and looks really nice on a coffee table. As such, whether or not it is worth the MSRP of $75 is up to the individual buyer.

As an addition to my pad collection it has a place, but mostly as a collectible and not as a serious player.

UPDATE:  It gets worse: Tackle wants their pad to look like it was made in Minnesota at some small, rustic workshop.

If they can supply Sweetwater, that’s far from the case, and their pad may be overpriced.

I’m probably stuck with mine, but I’ll chalk it up to Live And Learn.

                                   R: Tackle Instrument pad. L: Cherry Hill pad.

Happy drumming.

DIY stick bag

Simple pattern for making your own stick bag from an old pair of jeans. 

 

When we ask where or how something is made it's because we care.

When I research makers of finer drum sticks, mallets and accessories, one of the things I want to know is where and how a thing is made, and by whom.

It's great if the thing is made by the person who designs it, because that means it's more likely a small-batch, craft-made thing, like drum sticks by folks like John Crocken and the guys at LA Backbeat.

When a thing is very fine quality and high-zoot in design and price, but is not made by the designer, finding out who makes it can be a LOT harder and sometimes impossible. AND if I ask too pointedly or specifically, a designer can get downright nasty about it. (See my article from earlier this year about Revolution practice pads for an example.)

Looking at manufacturing practices tells me if the thing is sustainably and humanely produced. And that in turn tells me something about the mindset of the designer of said product, and where they stand on such things as a businessperson. I have the right as a consumer to ask these questions, but they also have the right to withhold information.

Well, I reached out and asked the designer of a very fine line of sticks, mallets and percussion accessories how, where and by whom his designs are made. I can’t say I’m shocked by his response but it is a bit of a bummer. “Hi Beth, I know who you are and have seen some of your posts on FB collecting vintage sticks. What you are asking is pretty sensitive proprietary information of me and I prefer to keep it that way. I hope you understand.”

In short, it’s my experience that anyone who won’t say where their products are being made is probably having them made in China, or any other country where workmanship is high but work itself is low-paying and manufacturing practices largely unsustainable.

Years ago when I managed inventory for a bicycle shop, I asked similar questions at an industry-only trade show, and got similar responses. I finally pressed someone at the booth for Rickshaw Bags, an up-and-coming messenger bag maker, and he admitted that the sub-assemblies -- the inner pockets and zippered compartments and such, are made in China and sent to the US for final assembly into bags.
"No one else can sew those sub-assemblies as consistently well and affordably," he told me. "At the volume that most bag makers are working with, almost no one is still making their bags entirely in the US anymore."

Because if you have to charge the real cost of making a messenger bag in the US, the price will kill your business. Americans are addicted to paying as little as possible, even for something that a high price justifies by its quality and methods.

"Cheap" manufacturing and high volume output are killing the small craftsman, especially in the drum business.
And so the next step is to design something that looks and feels high-zoot, price it accordingly, and keep quiet about where and how it's made.

(Rapha did this in the bicycle industry, and was fairly successful at it for awhile — with slick designs in bicycle clothing and accessories, all being made in countries where there are few laws regarding living wage or workers’ rights in general. In the beginning, no one cared because Rapha was based in the UK and the high price was part of the line’s allure. Eventually, the company got sold to a subsidiary of the Walmart empire, prices came down only a little, and it became the subject of a very big bike industry joke. People still wear Rapha, they’re still willing to pay a fortune for the branding — because Rapha is very, very good at branding and peoples’ egos respond accordingly because no one wants the illusion shattered  — and they’re still a moneymaking brand for someone. I have never owned or worn Rapha on my bike rides, and never will.)

This is a big part of why I decided to try and make my own stuff, either original ideas or versions of mass-produced things I couldn't justify the cost of. Because how badly do I want to support a company's bottom line by paying for things they didn't make themselves, things they happily have made overseas under less-than-transparent conditions?

I'm happy to save my pennies and pay full pop for something the designer makes themselves:
John Crocken, Artifact Percussion, LA Backbeat, Beetle Percussion, GB Manufacturing, Cherry Hill Drums, Cooperman. The price and wait are worth it when a craftsman takes the time and care to make it good, and they should be paid accordingly. Craft matters.

I'm not so willing to pay similarly high prices for designers who don't make their own stuff AND are cagey about where and how their stuff is made, and pass it off as craft.

When consumers ask where or how something is made, it's because we care.
We care about best practices in the workplace, in the sourcing and preparing of raw materials, and in the expertise and care taken by the craftsman to create a fine product.
As a consumer, I think it's not only okay to ask, it's our responsibility as consumers to participate in the buy-sell exchange by asking.
A designer or retailer who knows the answers to our questions and won't give them is treating us like idiots or children, thinking that it's better if we don't press too hard, don't look too closely. They worry that if we see how the sausage is made we won't buy it; or worse, we'll find a way to make our own.
That's the risk you take in making and selling things. Accept the risk and don't worry about our questions.

Tonight, I'm going to finish recovering a pair of timpani mallets so I can use them.
Happy drumming.

(Note: photo removed by designer request.)

Product Review: Cherry Hill Drums drum keys

If you need a new drum key, and you want it to be your last one, stop looking.

I’ve found it for you.

Run, don’t walk to Cherry Hill Drums and order a drum key from a real craftsman.

I got the Junior in solid brass. It’s formidable, and perfect in my hand.

Being solid brass, it’s going to see me out.

Not cheap, but a good price for the durability and beauty of the thing

Worth every penny.

Homemade timpani mallets

 

Timp mallet repairs, an ongoing project

Replace worn mallet heads on Duff-style threaded handles with felt cymbal washers and leather cut into washer rounds. Probably better for drum kit and concert toms than for timpani, though they will "break in" and soften with use.

I like how they turned out.

 

Stick-pad pairings: an inexact and fun science

 Prompted by an earlier discussion of “pad sticks” at the FB Boutique Sticks group, I’ve decided to offer a few suggestions for pairing ordinary drum sticks with practice pads in ideal combinations.

First, a word about “pad sticks,” which have been discussed earlier in this blog:

Generally speaking, “pad” sticks are designated as such by the manufacturer, and not an historic category.

They most often come with a diameter similar to a smaller marching drum stick (think 2S or so), with a medium taper and an oversized ball tip.     

  

Pad sticks are designed for use on a practice pad, most often to practice rudiments and to clean passages before applying them in rehearsal or performance. But without an historic designation, pad sticks are basically an invention of stick manufacturers and drum companies looking to expand their “brand”.

The oversize tip makes them risky to use on an actual drum, unless that drum is built to withstand the additional forces provided by a heavy stick. (The original pad stick from Vic Firth was not labeled as such in the beginning, but as model “Thunder Rock” for rock drummers.)

Moving away from Pad sticks — go back and read the post on those from a couple years back if you like — I was intrigued by the idea of pairing sticks with specific practice pads, the way Girl Scout cookies have recently been paired with strains of marijuana. This list is by no means exhaustive, and reflects the opinion of one Drummer, but is a good place to start.

1. Vintage pads (through around 1990). Older pads work best with the sticks in use at the time of their design and manufacture. Using a modern marching stick on a Real Feel tan rubber pad from over twenty years ago may not give the most ideal results for feel and response as using a stick in production in the mid to late 1990s. Likewise for pads made earlier, like this 1960s Remo pad. Promark was just beginning to make a splash in the US with their handmade Japanese oak sticks. Here’s an early 60s Remo pad with a pair of Promark Japanese oak 2B sticks, and the feel is very satisfying.

2. Marching-specific pad with marching sticks. Marching specific pads weren’t really a factor until the later 1990s and later, but their appearance in the world of practice pads changed a few of the rules for pad and stick pairings. Designed to take the heavier hits of newer marching sticks, marching pads don’t always offer the nuanced feel of a more standard pad (like a Remo, still on the market and used by students around the world even today). So if you have a marching-specific pad, you’ll be happiest with modern marching sticks. Below, a HUN adjustable snare pad and my VF Brian Mason signature sticks, which I use when playing with my local community marching group. They feel great and are sturdy enough for the craziest rim shots.

3. Custom/boutique sticks and tunable pads. When I use boutique, custom, small batch sticks, I prefer to use them on tunable pads with a Mylar head. That’s the closest to an actual tuned drum, and the least likely to damage the sticks. If your pad uses a coated head, it’s helpful to lightly sand the center of the pad to remove some of the coating (to reduce wear and tear on the tips).  Inculcate brush patterns mostly utilize the outer four to five inches of the head, so you won’t lose much brush coating where you really need it. 

Below: a really lovely pair of Cooperman concert sticks with a QuietTone tunable pad.

Again, this is only a starting point, and can get as specific or as general as you like. If you have lots of pads and sticks to choose from, it might be fun to consider which pair well, so you can get optimal use from each.

Happy drumming.

DIY time: flip-over drum mutes by Pearl, and by Yours Truly

Yeah, I know. 

Technically, this is some kind of copyright infringement.

But since I don’t plan to sell mine, I figure no harm, no foul.

Pearl’s design retails for $25.

 

My copy, which cost less than five bucks in materials.

The idea, I think, is to muffle the worst of the overtone ring, which my design does pretty well.

I suspect making it with suede would work better as the suede offers more flexibility, but I can just play with the leather to work it a bit and eventually achieve the same result.

I noticed that in the customer reviews, someone said Pearl’s design was faulty because you couldn’t keep it from popping off the tension bolt when playing a rim shot or loud accent. My thinking is that ther user might be faulty because if you’re muting the drum, why would you 0ay, you know, loud?

It’s a good design, and works nicely on my new-old drum.

Vintage Corner, UPDATE: The Leedy Drum Master, refurbished and a real player!

After some trading and discussion, John at Revival Drum Shop refurbished my Leedy Drum Master by installing a replacement throw-off and swapping in square-headed tuning rods, which made the drum more user-friendly and less prone to failure.
Here's a blueprint of the original strainer design (thanks, Michael Windish), followed by a photo of the replacement (an era-close model from the 1950s). The original throw-off was broken and missing parts and I could not be bothered to search high and low for a rare replacement, so I asked John to find something era-adjacent and reliable:

The other end of the strainer system worked fine and looked sturdy enough to remain in place.

I traded some things to Revival to cover the cost of the refurbishment and a barely used Revival shop padded bag large enough to hold the drum.

Once home, I asked my Sweetie for about half an hour to put the drum through its paces. We live in a little house with no meaningful soundproofing so she tries to be understanding of my need to drum, and I do most of my drumming at home on pads or heavily muffled drums. But I needed to hear this drum really sing, and get a sense of what I'm working with.

Is is an ideal concert drum? Not in the modern sense, though it would certainly fill in nicely when a "field drum" is called for in a wind ensemble. In fact, it's just a deep, warm sound that could work alone or with a drum kit. And sometimes, I just want to play a live, wide-open drum for its own sake.

Here's a video where I try out some things, including different mufflers and tunings. In the end, I can't tune it super-high as its over 80 years old, with a very lightweight shell and wood hoops, so some compromises and lowered expectations are in order. Still, it's a truly fine instrument that I will enjoy the heck out of, and I'm glad I have it.

Homemade snare muffler.
I have another commercially-made one on order but this will work for now.

The head that it came with is fine for the time being. Eventually I'll replace it with a standard Remo Ambassador head.

My goodness, what a gorgeous drum.

Product Review: British Drum Company "The Regimental" practice pad

I obtained this pad through some trading with a drum buddy who spends a fair amount of the year in his native Britain, and for whom it would easier to obtain the pad. Thanks, Adam!

The pad is a basic, but very nicely made, 1/8"-rubber-on-MDF model.
Its clean lines and finished look are made impressive by a plate that reads, "The Regimental," the model name for this pad, and by a finish in the colors and design of British livery found on regimental drums in the British military. It's a very handsome pad.

The feel of the light tan rubber is responsive without being too bouncy, and the base is made of a very fine-grained MDF or wood fiber material that looks like it would hold up to regular use.
I think this pad could be useful for both the American rudimental AND pipe styles of drumming because the rubber is thin enough to give immediate feedback. As in all things, Your Mileage May Vary.

Another nice thing about this pad is its somewhat compact size; the 9 3/4" base is home to a 7 1/2" rubber surface, meaning it fits nicely in a backpack or carry-on travel bag.  It is lighter in weight, but the generous non-skid surface on the underside insures that it will stay put on a tabletop or desk without issue. And it's on the quiet side, which will make the neighbors happy.

And the bonus piece-de-resistance is that you can order a customized nameplate to swap in, which I did. It takes an Allen key to remove the stock nameplate and two screws will hold your nameplate in place. 

My pad retailed for 42 pounds and change before shipping.
(I saved on shipping by having a friend who could pick one up while in the UK and then send it to me once back in the USA.)

I'll be taking the pad on tour with me this winter, and look forward to chopping each morning on it.

Vintage corner: my newest project, updating a vintage snare drum for modern use.

I scored this drum from a Reverb seller for the very reasonable sum of $145.

The drum was made in the 1940s by Leedy and Strupe, under the auspices of the Indiana Drum Company, for Sears and Roebuck to sell in their catalog under the model name Drum Master (did you get all that?).

Here’s a little more history for ya.

The drum has some interesting bits for an American-made drum, especially the tuning bolts (slotted instead of square) and the snare throw-off mechanism, which appears fussy and over-engineered for what it’s being asked to do.

The incorporation of the snare bed holes into the wooden hoop is a nice touch, and I was glad to find this drum with the wooden hoops intact and in good repair. They won’t last forever, but they’re solid for now.

I plan to take the drum to Revival Drum Shop this weekend and get some more insight into its design. My original goal was to clean it and set it up as my personal snare drum, because the 14” x 7” depth makes it great for that use. Only six lugs means I can’t tune it very high, but I don’t think that’s a problem for my  purposes. The slotted, oversized heads may require me to change the tuning bolts to newer, standard square heads, but I think I can keep the beautiful old lugs. The throw-off is incomplete, and may have to be upgraded to something more standardized because, according to a friend, this is made delicately and tends to break down. 

Stay tuned, this is going to be an interesting little adventure.

UPDATE: since I don’t own really nice tools, I decided to let the guys a Revival update my drum a bit, by replacing the tuning bolts with square-headed ones and installing a more sensible throw-off. They left everything else alone, and I’m told the drum sounds great. With my in-store credit my cost will be quite affordable and I will have a splendid drum to play.

 

DIY Drummer: Timpani practice pads

Since getting back into concert percussoion, I've been noticing timpani practice pads.
Commercially-made, these highly specialized pads start at around $40 and go up to over $150.

I decided to see if I could make a set for use at home.

All it took was some scrap wood, closed-cell ensolite camper pad material, and some Super-Glue gel. Et voila! One is small enough to fit in my mallet bag; two are perfect for practicing tricky passages at home. The feel is close to that of a tuned kettledrum, and if used ONLY with felt-covered mallets should last awhile.

After hanging out with these a little while, I decided to preserve the edges by wrapping them in gaffing tape. Once the tape sets, I’m hoping it will protect the edges from scuffs and snags, that step, plus playing ONLY with felt-covered mallets, should be enough to preserve the useful life of these pads for quite awhile.

Happy drumming.

Review: John Crocken’s “Moeller Perfect” sticks

Earlier this year, Craft stick maker John Crocken came up with a stick based on what famous drummer and instructor Sanford A. Moeller determined was the “perfect” stick for Rudimental drumming.

Using details from earlier sticks made by craft stick maker Charles “Buck” Soistman, with whom Crocken had apprenticed, and Moeller’s own notes, John Crocken has introduced what he calls the Moeller “Perfect” sticks. He offers them in persimmon, purple heart and Brazilian cherry.

A friend recently took delivery on a pair of these in purple heart, which weighed in at 80 grams per stick — on the heavy side of my favored weight range. So when I came into some extra scratch, I decided to order a pair in lighter persimmon, perhaps my favorite wood for craft-made sticks. John. Assured me he could make me a pair closer to 70 grams each. When they arrived in the mail a few days ago, I was happy to unwrap a pair of beautiful persimmon sticks weighing in at exactly 70 grams each. 

They’re longer than most of the sticks I play, 17.5” — but I knew Moeller was a big, tall man so that would make some sense. The sticks themselves are not matched in terms of thickness — one is a little thicker than the other, perhaps a millimeter or more, and I could tell that right away. Does this make them. “Seconds”? I decided to test for pitch and see. They are pitched matched, and weigh the same. So,  while I wish they w matched for thickness, the difference is not so glaring that I’d send them back at this point.

I’m not sure what to do with that, or whether it’s a reasonable thing to expect with craft-made sticks; and may ask John before I make a final decision.

They play effortlessly for their size and length. I find that I enjoy playing them with either matched or traditional grip. I do like these sticks a lot, and they play especially nicely on both drums and tunable practice pads. 

If you can scrape up the Pennie’s, investing in a pair or three of craft-made drumsticks is a great idea, and can make you appreciate your drumming from a new perspective. Try some.

Happy drumming.