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!

Drum love, community and patience

(At left: my very last pair of marching sticks from HS, circa fall 1980. CB700, model 3S. These sticks are forty years old and still feel great.)

In 1997 I was knee-deep in the world of percussion education and performance.
I taught marching percussion and movement at three Portland-area high schools, ran a small studio where I gave private lessons to kids and played three nights a week in a jazz combo. I also played pit percussion for two of the three major theater companies in town during the summer season.
Then it all packed up and left town.
On the way home one evening, I rode my bike past a parked truck when the drivers' side door swung open quickly and without warning, right into me. I caught the end of the door with my right hand, which bounced in and out of the latch, and then I slammed hard sideways into the pavement. Two bicyclists right behind me swerved wildly to avoid missing the spot where I'd fallen. One stayed and offered help. The driver of the truck was mortified; she made me lie still, kept me calm, and gave the ambulance driver and police her information while they dressed my wounds and decided I could get away with calling a cab to go to the hospital (I couldn't afford the ambulance ride).

Two surgeries and a year of physical therapy later, my right hand was put back together as well as possible. I could grip a wrench well enough to stay employed at my bike shop day job, and I could, with time play a passable snare drum roll. However, French grip timpani and four-in-hand keyboard mallets were gone forever, as I had lost access to the muscles in my right pinky and just below that in my right hand. That meant no more concert percussion and no more pit orchestra work, which was the primary source of my musical income. I was forced to close down my little drum studio and shad to sell my marimba to pay my bills. With the assistance of a lawyer, I eventually accepted a settlement from the driver's insurance company that covered the replacement of my totaled bicycle, all of my medical expenses and a fair chunk left over for "pain and suffering" and the loss of my  concert percussion career.

I spent the next ten years getting involved in synagogue music and eventually rebuilt myself as a singer-songwriter. Between 1999 and 2019, I enjoyed a small but growing career as a songwriter, cantorial soloist and Jewish educator. I made wonderful friends in my new sphere and grew a great deal as a musician and a human being.

And I never stopped loving drums and percussion. After a long stretch of not touching any drums (and wincing whenever I passed a marimba in a music store), I found my way back to drumming with an old practice pad and some sticks I'd kept. After six months of careful, patient practice, I'd regained the ability to play most of the rudiments I'd learned as a kid, plus a few more I hadn't gotten around to learning when the timpani bug bit. I began acquiring practice pads, to test and try and figure out which ones worked best for me. I started researching the history of practice pad development in the twentieth century, and began collecting vintage pads and sticks.

I continued to pursue drumming as a hobby while I toured, occasionally buying vintage sticks while on tour and bringing a practice pad along so I could chill out between shows.

I was on the verge of a very big breakthrough in my little Jewish music scene when COVID came along and brought it all to a screeching, painful halt.

Since last March, my travels as a touring Jewish artist have stopped cold. I've had a couple of online engagements but nothing solid or long-term. With the shutdown of my songwriting gigs came a wave of deep depression and self-doubt that has lasted, frankly, for months on end.

But all the free time of unemployment gave me time and space to dive deep into drumming, and to find myself musically in other ways.  Today, thanks in large part to the miracle of the internet, I've become part of a wonderful online community of drummers, our friendships based on mutual respect and a shared love of drums and percussion. It has been, and continues to be, a wonderful journey.

My friends in the Jewish music world may be wondering why I can't seem top pick up my guitar right now, but many have been surprised at discovering this other music side of me (through videos I've shared online), and have remained encouraging. Be patient with yourself, they've said. You'll come back to it when the time is right. I hope they're right about that.

Meanwhile, I am deeply grateful for the friends I've made in Drumland, and I want to thank a few of them here for their encouragement, acceptance and welcome.
In no particular order:

Joseph Coleman
Mary Gromko Murray
Jose Medeles and all the gang at Revival Drum Shop

James Travers and everyone at Rhythm Traders
Kevin Donka
Rene van Haaren
Don Stewart
Kevin Lehman and his amazing Wilcoxon Rudimental Challenge
Scott Brown at Flam7Percussion
René Ormae-Jarmer
Don Worth
Brian Wilemon, Jennifer Honnoll Wilemon and Bay Ratz Marching Battery
Unpresidented Brass Band

I'm sure I will fail to mention at least half a dozen other names here but they're all part of a wonderful drum rediscovery and I am grateful for every single one of them.

And I would be a complete dork and total loser if I did not thank the one who has been my biggest supporter through all of this weird and crazy time -- my Sweetie, Liz, with whom I will soon celebrate 20 years of US-ness and who may not have had any idea of what she was getting into when we started out.
I wasn't really a drummer at that point and when it all came back to me, it all came in for the first time for her. Lesser beloveds might have run screaming from the room, but she simply asked me to play on rubber pads behind a closed door.

I don't know what my return to the singer-songwriter thing will look like when we all get through this COVID mess, or even how much of that I will do going forward. It's impossible for me to know right now.
But I DO know that I will never stop being a musician, no matter what I use to explore sound with. And today, while everything remains terribly uncertain, that is one good thing I can be certain of, and deeply grateful for.

Happy Drumming.

Below: Evidence of participation. Gresham HS Band, Fall 1977. I am directly in front of the guy in the middle column with the saxophone neck strap on. You can only see half my face but that's me carrying a single tenor drum and loving every single note of the experience. (I also adored that uniform, right down to the overlay and spats.)
Someday I'd love to find photos of my brief time marching in Spartans Drum Corps [Vancouver WA, spring and summer1978] -- if you've got anything showing ME carrying timpani or bells, please let me know. Super-extra bonus points if you can tell me where to score one of those funky, black short slant-top shakos. Thanks.