Interview with David Loendorf of Quiet Tone

David Loendorf grew up in Bayonne, New Jersey and began playing drums in the early 1960s, while still in grade school. He attended Rutgers University for a time and by the late 1970s he was taking formal lessons with Henry Adler in New York City.

Henry Adler had started developing what would become the Quiet Tone Mute in the late 1960s, but because of his work teaching students, running a drum shop and performing, production was sporadic and limited and “advertising” was strictly word-of-mouth.

David was part of the team (with Adler and Glen Sorge, another of Adler’s students) that turned Quiet Tone into a going concern beginning in 1987. After a short time, Sorge stepped away from the business, and eventually David took over the Quiet Tone operation himself. During this time, David was making the mutes in the basement of his New Jersey home, with some help from his wife. 

While building mutes and managing the Quiet Tone business, David worked as a teacher and percussionist, performing with multiple ensembles in the NYC/NJ area including the Monmouth Symphony.

In 2000, Quiet Tone was sold to the Sabian corporation and the operation moved to Canada, with David staying on to consult in production and to work on other projects for the company. He stepped away from Quiet Tone completely by 2004. Today, David is retired and living in Maine. 

While researching the history of Quiet Tone, I was given his name by Robert Boyd, who’d run into him at trade shows. Before I’d had a chance to look David up on the socials, his name popped up as a suggested Facebook friend. It was eery, but also helpful. I reached out to him asking if he was indeed the David Loendorf who’d been involved with Quiet Tone pads and if so would it be okay for me to talk with him? He responded in the affirmative on both counts a couple of days later, and we talked by telephone for a little over two hours. 

Here’s our chat, edited for clarity and brevity:

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BH: So you started drumming in school?

DL: Yes, in sixth grade, in 1963. My music teacher noticed that I could play a little and put me on drums. I played all through high school, learning as I went along by practicing and watching other drummers. 

BH: You grew up in Bayonne, so you must have known about the Bridgemen [drum and bugle corps]?

DL: Oh yeah. I played with them for around three months. Practice consisted of being lined up on either side of a long wood table and being given rhythms to tap out on it, over and over. Then, we got on a bus and headed to the New Jersey Armory, where we were taught to march. Dancing and playing at the same time? It was not for me. So I quit and went back to my high school band and was quite happy there. I played everything from snare drum, bass drum to cymbals and timpani and enjoyed it. 

BH: What other kinds of drumming did you do between public school and your studies with Henry Adler?

DL: Through the 1970s, until I got into the orchestra in 1981, I was playing lots of country, pop, and swing. We had some interesting times -- because we were working in Union City (NJ), Les Paul came and started watching us play. He really loved my guitar player, Paul Jones. We started hanging out at his house and his studio, which was filled with guitars — I had fiddled around with guitars before really getting into drums — and I saw some amazing, beautiful stuff. I saw some of his prototypes and got to try some of them. We also got to visit Media Sound in NYC, across from Carnegie Hall, where we worked with John Phillips and got to do some interesting things. I got married in 1979 and went into orchestral percussion not long after that. But that time was fun! We made $35 a night and spent $45 (laughs).  I also worked on the sales floor at Freehold Music before I started working with Henry Adler. 

I was capable but my hands were kind of weak in terms of technique. So after I dropped out of college (I studied English at Rutgers, with a professor who was from Oxford — I couldn’t do anything right by that guy!), I started taking lessons with Henry Adler.  I studied with Henry in Freehold while I was working on my house there. Eventually I went in for more regular, formal lessons with Henry at his New York studio, which was on 46th street across from Manny’s Music. I studied with him for around 6 years, formal lessons every couple of weeks. We’d go through the Buddy Rich book with traditional grip, then he’d have me start over using matched grip, and then he’d make me start again with varying degrees of bounces. Lots of repetition, over and over, so I could apply different kinds of technique and get better at each one. If I’d studied with him longer than I had, he probably would have made me go through that book nineteen different ways!

BH: How did you get involved with the Quiet Tone mutes?

DL: Henry [Adler] had started making Quiet Tone mutes in the late 1960s at his studio on 46th Street, and drummers he knew liked them so he’d make more by request. By the mid-1980s, when I started studying with Henry, I was helping Henry make them with another of his students, and we began making them in greater quantities. Drummers would hear about them, come in and try them. They sought out the mutes and we started selling a lot of them. Quiet Tone was formally incorporated in 1993, and we were making mutes in larger and larger batches. That included some contracts with the military. 

BH: I have here an early flier for QT that shows mutes for 14-inch snare, 13 and 14-inch toms and a bass drum mute. You also made larger mutes, for awhile, yes?

DL: Yes. We also made a 15-inch mute but we quickly discontinued it in favor of a 16-inch size. When tom sizes got bigger they got softer — the 16 tom was, well, a bit mushier, you know? So I thought, let’s put them out the way they feel and sound. So the 16-inch mute sounds and feels like a 16-inch tom. In early 1994 I patented a Quiet Tone bass drum mute. People were telling us we really had to have one, so I designed one and we brought it out, but it was something of a disaster. It just wasn’t that good, and we didn’t make them for very long.

Around that time, I took over the entire Quiet Tone operation from Henry Adler. I continued making the pads at home for awhile, while at the same time playing in ensembles in the area and teaching drum students. Drummers sought us out to talk about QT mutes and about drumming in general, and I traveled to trade shows and festivals to market the mutes for a number of years. I’m grateful to have befriended and hung out with some of the best drummers in the world because of my work with QT. I didn’t try to seek endorsers, it was mostly just drummers coming to me to ask about the mutes, then spreading it by word of mouth to other drummers.  David Weckl, Vinnie Colaiuta, lots of other drummers, they all tried the mutes and loved them. They did a lot of advertising for them just by raving about them.

(Below: original QT mute, from Editor's collection.)

An interesting story: One of the larger batch orders was for the US Army’s Old Guard [fife and drum corps]. My wife was helping make the mutes in our basement by then, she was a nurse and she’d come down to the basement after her shifts at the hospital and assemble mutes with me. Some of those early mutes wound up with the Old Guard. Just a few years ago, I saw a video for the Army that showed the Old Guard rehearsal barracks, and while the camera swept along the room, at the back were some of the earliest Quiet Tone mutes on drum stands — my wife had made some of those pads years before, and guys drumming now at the Tomb of the Unknowns were still practicing on them!

BH: When did Sabian get involved?

DL: In 2000 I retired from performing, and the mutes had grown more popular than in-house production could keep up with. Around that time I sold the Quiet Tone brand and design to Sabian. They moved everything to their facility in Canada, which allowed them to ramp up production considerably to keep up with demand. They used some parts sourced from our suppliers in New Jersey for a while. Eventually -- after I left Sabian -- they scaled up even more by transferring all of the Quiet Tone manufacturing to Taiwan. 

I worked with Sabian for three years as part of the management team for percussion and accessories. My wife and I sold our house in Freehold and bought a property in Maine, which put me closer to Sabian’s facility in New Brunswick. Sabian had a building in Houlton, Maine, a big empty building that we turned into a soundstage, and I spent a lot of time inventing there, but my actual office was up in New Brunswick.

I was able to continue playing here in Maine, and artists visiting the area would stop in to say hello and perform on the soundstage there. I continued to work with a small number of students here, including Dustin Fitzpatrick of Drum Science. He studied for four years with me, mostly on hand development. He got so good, over the top, that he scared me.

BH: Tell me about how the Quiet Tone was constructed. Where did you source parts?

DL: Well, before Sabian, the rims and hardware came from China, the heads came from Remo and the fiber board base — you know there’s no asbestos in it, right? — the very first base we used was basically acoustic sound tile material. Later, we switched to something called Homasote [a versatile, eco-friendly structural fiberboard made from 100% recycled paper and wood cellulose compressed under high heat and pressure without harmful formaldehyde adhesives - Wikipedia].  We used closed-cell Homasote, made in those days in Trenton, as the base. Then a layer of open-cell sponge [similar to what’s used in neoprene drum mutes now - BH], then a layer of flat Mylar and then the drumhead. It’s a good combination of components for a good feel and response.

BH: Were you still with Sabian when they brought out the mesh head version?

DL: No, that was after I left. I haven’t tried it. 

BH: Since you stepped away from Sabian, have you been drumming much?

DL:  Well, I recently bought myself a new drum kit and I’ve been spending a lot of time tuning it, outfitting it with extra things and just having fun with it. I find myself playing along with recordings of my favorite bands; right now it’s a lot of Yes, especially their "Live at the Apollo" recording from 2018, it's just really great stuff.

(Below: David Loendorf, 1967)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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After a delightful conversation, we agreed to swap email addresses and eventually photos of our favorite drums and pads. I’m truly grateful to David for his time and for sharing his story.

Custom pad, small batch, made in America

I sort of can't believe I did this but look what's coming my way. 

Still drying. 12" diameter, solid wood base and rim. I've asked Anthony to hold off on wrapping until next Friday so it will be thoroughly dry and some of the off-gas has dissipated before he wraps it up. 

I'm going to call it my Carmen Pad.

Small batch, made one at a time in America. Glad to support a creative new pad maker.

I expect I'll coat the rim in some wood hardener to strengthen it, and add some linseed oil to the base to protect the wood and bring out the different hues a little more.

If you want to see more of his designs, look him up on the Drum Practice Pad History Group on Facebook under Anthony Aguilar. 

 

UPDATE, 7-12-26 -- Anthony sent me these. Pad is dry now but I've asked him to wait until next weekend to wrap for shipping, just to make sure it's as dry as it can be.
I promise a full review when it's ready to chop.

UPDATE, 7-13-26: Anthony just sent me this video. The pad is dry but he's just waiting for the off-gas to clear out a little more before he ships it. He gave me a little demo of how it sounds with open space underneath and with closed space. I suspect I'll be using it on a stand or on my pad table. But this gives me a great idea of just how nice the thing is going to play.

 

Yes, this is going to be one fun pad. Can't wait! Of course, I'll do a full review and demo and post it here.

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.

Full Review: Rudimental Control practice pad

My Rudimental Control pad arrived a couple days ago, and I have been putting it through its paces. My pad is custom-made to my specs, with a 13-inch head and eight tuning bolts.

Rudimental Control is the brainchild of drummer and teacher Nissan Ballard, who makes each pad himself here in the USA.

Here are my thoughts:

Construction. The pad is constructed very similarly to pads by Rudimental Drummers and Drumslinger, utilizing a wood platform, a real drum hoop and head with whatever padding or muffling material is placed underneath the head.

As with Drumslinger pads, the tuning bolts are topped with Allen heads that require a 3/16" Allen wrench. I'm not sure why SAE was selected over metric, but perhaps outside the world of bicycles (with which I'm most familiar) SAE is more commonly used. If I were building these pads I might favor actual lug bolts with a head that takes a standard drum key instead (like the ones found on Rudimental Drummers pads), but that's a personal preference and not a huge deal.

The bolts thread into nuts whose teeth sink into the wood from underneath. Each nut is covered with a thick felt pad for protection and so that the pad sits nicely on a tabletop. (I pulled back one of the felt pads, which are adhesive on one side, to see this for myself. The adhesive was fine for this brief peek and stuck back in place with no problem.)



One note: I found that the length of the nut's threaded portion is shorter than those used on my Rudimental Drummers Chop pad. (See photos for comparison.) I hope there's enough thread inside the depth of the wood to hold the tuning bolt steadily, and for now I'll assume that's the case. (I didn't want to disassemble the pad that much.)

I also noticed that the holes on the Rudimental Control pad don't appear quite as finished as the holes on my RD Chop pad. There are a few spots where a wood shaving was still stuck on an edge of a couple of the bolt holes. A carefully applied Exacto knife should sort that out.

Below: comparison between Rudimental Control bolt hole (top) and Rudimental Drummers bolt hole (bottom), showing finish of the hole and the threaded sleeve visible length.

The metal hoop is a standard, basic rim. I suppose if you wanted something fancier you could ask for it, but I saw no need for it here.

Appearance. I had inquired about a custom pad, personalized to my specs. In addition to my choice of paint (I opted for solid dark green with a white head, my college colors), I could also have my college crest incorporated into the design, by way of some sort of photo process that would imprint the design (also dark green in this case) onto a white surface that sits underneath the clear drum head.  My design was simple and clear enough for the photo process to come through clearly and cleanly. The design and its background do not seem to impede the sound or feel of the finished pad in any way, and it looks quite nice and centered.

Nissan had suggested that if I wanted to further customize my pad, I could have another design included on bottom. I chose to include my signature, and was able to send him a very clean copy to work from. Again, using some kind of photo process as a guide, he was able to incorporate my signature by leaving the green paint off that part. Is it "engraved"? It doesn't feel like it, so I'm guessing that the colored paint was excluded by a reverse stencil of some kind. The finish is very clean and neat and it adds an attractive touch to the pad.

The pad arrived in a box, wrapped in brown paper (both reused; thank you, Nissan, for thinking environmentally!). When I unwrapped the pad from its paper, I could see a few tiny spots(1/8" or smaller) where paint had either been nicked off or had not been fully applied. I believe it was something that probably happened in shipping. Since this is a pad that I intend to use anyway, those spots won't bother me. For future shipments, though, I would suggest wrapping in additional layers of paper and using crumpled paper in the corners to wedge it in the box more securely, to avoid this possibility.

Another thing I noticed is that the wood finish on this pad is more rough to the touch than the finish on the RD Chop pad. My feeling is that this is mostly a matter of personal preference, though an especially rough edge may catch and snag on something in transit, causing splinters to pull away and expose bare wood. Some sanding prior to applying the paint could reduce this risk.
Further, a more finished feel might be more in line with the price range on the market for this style of pad.

(Full disclosure: I paid full price for my pad and was in no way granted any perks by Rudimental Control.)

The other thing I noticed was that the plywood used as the base of this pad had been bumped on one edge of the round, resulting in this:

I can't say how this bump might have happened, but it is noticeable and may actually be an imperfection in the original round after it was cut. I was surprised to see this blemish pass through and get painted. If it happened during shipping, more packing material should help prevent this in the future. If it was a blemished board to begin with, perhaps better to use a different base (and cut the first one into a smaller round for a different pad).

Again, I won't quibble since it doesn't affect the function of the pad. But for the cost, someone else may squawk and it's worth slowing down the process a little to ensure consistent quality control.

How does it feel and sound? In a word, marvelous. Nissan and I are of the same generation, and we both came up playing on Mylar. When I told him I wanted a pad that felt like the drum I played in high school -- a 15-inch snare with a Remo Emperor head -- he knew exactly what I was talking about, and made a pad that matched my specs. The pad has a Remo Emperor head and a standard, basic rim that provide the feel I'm looking for. The head came a little more taut than I like and I was able to relax the tension a bit to suit my taste. It plays easily and beautifully, providing a very satisfying feel and sound.

Note: my Rudimental Drummers Chop pad was designed to be a quiet pad for use at home, and it does that job well. The Rudimental Control pad is MUCH louder, and the volume difference surprised me at first.

Here's an example of the sound and feel.



(Nissan tells me he is also able to construct a pad that will take greater tension, for modern drum corps players who need that tighter feel. If that's you, talk with him directly for the best results.)

Overall, I am pleased with the pad and will use it regularly and often.

Basic pads are available at the Rudimental Control web site.
Customized pads will cost more; reach out to Nissan with your questions and ideas.

Happy chopping!