Vintage Corner: The original Quiet Tone mute, by Henry Adler

I had the amazing opportunity to purchase two of the first-generation, original Quiet Tone pads, designed and distributed by Henry Adler. They arrived today, and I am fascinated.

I purchased both from the same fellow, a 14-inch Snare Mute and a 13-inch Tom-Tom Mute. The pads were originally designed not as practice pads, but as drum mutes designed to be placed atop drums for quieter practice. These mutes came with coil springs with hooks on each end, that allowed you to attach a mute to the top of a drum and keep it in place during indoor practice. 

The fiber base is the same as that found on the next generation of Quiet Tone pads that came with tension rods and replaceable heads. However, this original version bears a label that says “Pat. pending,” placing these in the late 1960s.

Also, the legs on this earliest model are screwed into a sliding nut on the underside of the two vertical rods. Sliding the nut allows you to place the legs where you want, and tightening the threaded leg into the nut (finger tight) keeps it where you set it.

Sticks are shown in one of the photos with the 13-inch mute to show scale. I’ve places small pieces of folded paper between the horizontal rod and the two vertical rods, to reduce the rattle of metal-on-metal. 

This first generation came pre-tensioned, and could not be adjusted. The pitch is lower than that found on later versions of the pad, and has a lower tension that more closely resembles jazz drums of the 1960s. 

These are photos of the 13-inch Tom-Tom mute. 

As you can see in the video, the head sits lower from the top of the rim than on later versions of the Quiet Tone. This earliest version was probably not designed to be taken apart by the player; the rods connect to the rim with rivets. Subsequent revisions would allow for tuning adjustment and head replacement, a thicker fiber base and eventually the addition of a foam rubber layer to strengthen the construction and allow it to be used as a real practice pad.

These earliest examples of the Quiet Tone have their limits and would probably not withstand the demands of the modern drummer, but they are a significant piece of practice pad history and are extremely rare in complete condition. I am very glad to have them, and honored to be their next caretaker.

Vintage Corner: Quiet Tone practice pads, from the early days

According to verbal history, Henry Adler designed the Quiet Tone practice in the 1960s as a way to practice drumming quietly.
It could rest on a tabletop or on top of a drum, and worked as advertised. 
The earliest version featured a plain Mylar plastic head and rim laid over a muting base (made of some kind of fiberboard that, contrary to rumor did not contain any asbestos). The earliest version of the QT pad had very primitive tension that was difficult to work with and did not offer much of a tuning range. 

The patent for the design was actually awarded to Merton Glick and Joseph Mancari in 1969. I am still researching the Henry Adler connection to see if he was involved in any way, but so far I can find nothing.

Below: drawings from the patent application:

The earliest versions of the QT pad, before the patent was awarded, are extremely scarce and very hard to find today. So imagine my surprise when I found listings for two of them, at a surprisingly low price for each. Of course, I snapped them both up.

14" pad, meant to fit on top of a snare drum:

 

And the 13" size, meant to fit on top of a tom or a piccolo snare drum:

As you can see from the blow-ups below, the tensioning mechanism was far more primitive on this earliest version, which used a simple nut and bolt design. This would be replaced later by a drum tension rod, which provided more adjustability.

While this earliest tuning mechanism was too primitive for real world applications, having examples in my collection makes it easier for me to see and show the full development of an important piece of drum pad history, and I'm glad to have them.

Happy drumming.

DIY drummer: refurbishing a vintage QuietTone pad

I had an opportunity to purchase an old QuietTone practice pad from the 1960s, back when Henry Adler still owned the company and was selling them out of New Jersey. Various drummers had tried to warn me off pads of this era, because of the worry that the internal base was made with asbestos. I researched this thoroughly, even talking with a former coworker of my mother’s from Georgia-Pacific. Now in his eighties and an amateur drummer himself, he showed me his two old Adler QuietTone pads, one of which he was refurbishing for his grandson. “There’s absolutely no asbestos in there,” he told me. “The internal base was made with compressed paper/cardboard fiber. By the 1960s, asbestos was a popular building material, but it splintered easily. No one would want a practice pad that gave off hundreds of tiny splinters with every stroke.”

My fears calmed, I made on offer on the vintage QuietTone pad and it was accepted. It arrived this week, and I set about refurbishing it into playable condition.

The pad was well-used, worn and showing its age. I took it apart and examined each component.

The original fiberboard base was intact, though badly warped from years of compression as the tension was increased over time. I decided to try and save it. Using some wood hardener, I brushed both sides of the base, allowing the liquid to soak in. I waited ten minutes for the surface to become tacky to the touch, sandwiched it between two pieces of chloroplast (the plastic material used for campaign signs), weighted it down and let it dry. I knew that the sign might stick to the treated base, but not too badly.

Then I tackled the metal bands with a Kool-Stop rust eraser, left over from my bike shop days and great for removing obvious rust. I followed that up with a small piece of Nevr-Dull and the metal bands looked much better after that. I was glad that the original white rubber “feet” were still intact; a tiny spot of super glue under each would ensure they didn’t fall off.

When the wood hardener had dried several hours later, I removed the weights, carefully lifted the base, and saw that it was much flatter than it had been. There were grooves worn into the base by the metal bands, so I made a mental note to reinstall the base at an angle to avoid damaging the grooved parts further. The last thing I did was to fill in a few small gouges in the fiber board with some wood putty, which I let dry and then sanded flush.

Finally, I traced and cut a couple of cardboard circles, a couple circles from very thin yoga mat material, and a circle from an old Mylar drum head. The original head was beyond hope, so I replaced it with a newer used head I had on hand. (NOTE: the QuietTone pad is designed for concert and jazz drum practice, and works best with smaller sticks and a Remo Ambassador head. Anything heavier or thicker will deaden the response and tone, providing a less satisfying experience.)

Then, I reassembled the pad upside-down: 

— drumhead laid into the hoop

— Mylar layer

— two yoga mat circles

— the base, set at an angle in relation to the tension rod holes

— two layers of cardboard 

— the metal bands

It came together beautifully. Eventually, I’ll replace the hardware so all the tension bolts and nuts match, but for now the old, mismatched hardware works well enough. The result is a really nice practice pad that will enjoy many more years of use.

If you want to learn more about using and caring for QuietTone practice pads, Rick Dior has made a very informative video covering all of that, plus some history about the development of the pad. It’s worth your time.

Vintage Corner: Henry Adler adjustable practice pad, 1940s

I’ve been looking for one of these for a very long time. I had all but given up hope when suddenly this one appeared online for sale. I hesitated for a few days, then finally decided to go ahead and buy it.

It arrived in complete and functional condition.

As the photos make clear, the pad is in surprisingly good shape for being almost eighty years old.

However, the rubber was hardened and deeply cracked with age and exposure [to sunlight], and in its original condition wasn’t really playable.

After researching possible ways to renew the rubber, it became clear that the damage was too great, and I would either have to let it be or replace it.

I took a couple of days to consider my options.

Leaving the pad as is would mean that it would be relegated to a strictly historical artifact, a museum piece destined for a plexiglas glass display case and inertia.

Replacing the rubber surface would greatly reduce its historical value — and possibly its monetary value —  to collectors. But it would also make the pad playable again.

I had to be honest with myself and admit that I had always hoped to find one in playable condition. But before I took the leap, I sought opinions on fellow drum pad enthusiasts.

Most encouraged me to make the pad playable again, and after considering all the responses and my own feelings, that’s what I ended up doing.

Removing the original rubber was a slow, painstaking process. I took my time, not wanting to damage the wood underneath. I lightly sanded down the wood surface to remove the worst of the glue and allow the replacement rubber to lay flat.

Then, I selected a 1/8” thick piece of gum rubber and trimmed it to match the shape and size of the original, so that the overall aesthetic wouldn’t be too altered. I had considered using 1/4” thick rubber, but I decided on something that would give me greater articulation and also allow for a wider range of volumes without my having to hit the pad so hard. It IS almost eighty years old, after all.

I carefully glued and weighted down the rubber on the wood, let it dry and tested it. So far, so good.

Finally, because the wood was unfinished as far as I could tell, I decided to seal it with a clear coat of wood hardener, which would protect and strengthen the wood surface all around. It would also protect what remained of the decal, which shows Henry Adler’s name and the address of his New York shop and studio. (If you click on Henry’s name above, it will take you to an interview with him by Jim Dinella. I own pads from each of them now.)

(Later versions of this pad would carry a decal from George Way, who’d been licensed by Adler to produce and sell the pads. These later models also had a metal lever rather than a wooden knob, and were painted red or green like Way’s other pad offerings. When George Way was bought out by Camco, the Adler pad was no longer made. 

Here is a later version of the Adler design, sold by George Way in the 1950s. Note the sliding metal lever, and that the doors are hinged at the top rather than the bottom. (Photo still taken from Instagram video, courtesy of Michael Windish.)

Adler’s patent for this design was granted in 1950 and the pad was in production for less than ten years total. I believe mine is an early, pre-patent edition of this pad dating from the late 1940s.)

The original white “feet” were very small and one was missing. I removed them all and swapped in some  slightly larger white feet from a Ludwig pad. They tapped into the existing nail holes nicely.

The whole thing was allowed to dry outside under cover from the rain all day. When it stopped being smelly, I brought it indoors to become accustomed to the indoor temperature, and I was done.

I’m not sorry that I brought this pad back to life. I’m pleased with how it turned out and will enjoy it for a very long time.