Being a Rudimental drummer in Portland, Oregon is lonely. It’s not exactly a hotbed of rudimental drumming, nor of the marching arts, nor, to be brutally honest, of displays of patriotism in general.
But in honor of our nation’s 250th birthday, I’m going to take my marching snare to my local park Saturday evening and chop some Three Camps, Crazy Army and maybe a couple of Wilcoxon or NARD solos.
I don’t expect anyone to join me, and I’ve decided to be okay with that. As long as I can still chop, I’ll keep on chopping until my arms fall off.
Early last year, I had an opportunity to put Beetle Percussion’s Last Pad through its paces. At the time, there was only a double-sided, marching focused version available. It was designed for modern marching drummers, able to take very high tension. You can read that review in two parts here, and here.
Eventually, after multiple experiments with that pad, I passed it along to a drummer with more experience playing modern, high-tension drums for further testing. Then, I turned my attention to other pads.
A few months back, I was offered the chance to try out the newer single-sided version of the Last Pad, designed for lower-tension concert and traditional marching practice. I readily agreed.
The single-sided Last Pad arrived this weekend, and I assembled it.
Beetle kindly sent the pad with two coated heads, one in single-ply Ambassador weight and the other in a heavier, two-ply Emperor weight. Since I already have a few pads with Ambassador heads on them for concert work, I chose to assemble this with the Emperor head.
The Last Pad comes with everything needed for assembly, including:
— Valchromat base, pre-drilled
— your choice of a lower-profile S-Hoop or a regular triple flange hoop
— all the necessary tuning bolts, nuts and washers
— a 14” insert consisting of 1/2” dense foam laid into a Valchromat base, designed to fit under the drumhead and on top of the primary pad base. You can order inserts made with recycled tire rubber if you wish, but the foam insert is necessary to make a lower-tension concert/traditional pad.
— a 14” head (not included in the base price, but you can buy one from Beetle for an extra charge or use one you already have)
You’ll need a standard drum key and a 5/16” open wrench. Beetle sells these as extras, too, if you don’t already have them.
The Valchromat primary base comes in multiple colors by request. My primary base is orange, and the insert (which is unseen once assembled) came in blue.
At left: the underside of the primary base, finished with foam discs for a nonskid experience on a tabletop.
Below: the top side of the primary base, inlaid with the same recycled tire rubber used on other Beetle pads.
The insert is inlaid with dense foam that, when placed under the drum head, provides a buttery feel that’s ideal for lower tings and coated heads.
Remembering my experience with the double-sided Last Pad and how the insert could wiggle slightly off-center, I put down a small rolled piece of clear tape between the primary base and the insert to keep it centered during tensioning. (Once it’s tensioned, the tape won’t affect the function of the assembled pad.)
The primary base comes pre-drilled to receive the tuning bolts, nuts and washers. I assume that two washers are used to provide greater strength and stability, with the larger washer going in first, followed by the smaller washer and then the nut. The holes of the washers have different inside diameters, so pay attention when assembling.
I took my time, using the overturned box as an assembly surface. Because everything came pre-drilled, assembly was very straightforward. However, you need to take your time and be patient because there are twelve nodes of contact. Tensioning and tuning properly will take longer, and you’ll want to make sure the insert doesn’t wiggle around while you put everything together. (The tape helps a lot with this.)
The holes are drilled to take counter-sunk washers on the bottom, and the elongated ovals make it easier to set up the tension bolts while you work your way around the pad. Once you assemble everything hand-tight, positioning each tuning bolt in or near the middle of the oval is straightforward.
After going around enough to ensure that nothing rattled anymore, I put the pad into a concert snare stand and began tuning more assertively. My concert stand of choice is a vintage Hamilton stand that is strong and heavy. The arms don’t line up with the cutouts in the primary base, but that’s not a problem here. A stand with three arms of equal length and distance will match up with the cutouts easily.
When it was all done, I tried it out. First, I used marching sticks:
Then, I turned to some concert sticks and tried some buzz rolls and a lighter touch:
Finally, I tried some brush strokes:
The foam insert definitely makes you put in a little more effort and thought to “pull” the strokes out of the head, just as you would when playing a traditionally-tensioned field drum or a snare from a drum kit.
That’s a feature of playing lower tensioned drums, and not a mistake. Anyone used to chopping on Kevlar will have to adjust their approach accordingly.
At some point, I may swap in the Ambassador head and try that out but honestly, I am so delighted with the feel and response of the Emperor head that I’m going to hang out with it awhile.
If you’ve been on the fence about the Last Pad, it’s worth the money and the time you’ll invest in it.
If you’re focused on marching snare and you chop on Kevlar, get the double-sided version and put different heads on each side. If you’re looking for a really fine concert or traditional pad, the single-sided is ideal.
(Note: Beetle Percussion does not pay me to test and write about their pads, or to help market them. Now that they offer hoodies, though, I may just have to buy one.)
Here in Portland, there’s a drum corps that has been entertaining folks since the 1990s.
The Last Regiment of Syncopated Drummers (LRSD) consists of men and women who play a combination of snare drums, traditional [single] tenor drums, bass drums and cymbals.
Their web site explains that they were founded by a fellow who grew up in Long Beach, California, and after he moved to Portland he decided he wanted to recreate the drum line of his school days.
The style of drumming is called “Syncopated,” and was developed by a school band director in Long Beach in the 1960s. During its heyday, Syncopated Drumming was popular in Long Beach, with several schools assembling drum corps to compete against each other in local parades.
Its popularity did not extend very far outside of Long Beach, back then or today.
During the 1990s and 2000s, a handful of alumni groups were in existence and mostly based in or near Long Beach. At the same time, LRSD was beginning to get noticed in the Portland area and a little beyond, thanks to the hard marketing and instructional work of its founder.
Ultimately, the Portland group would make its way to Long Beach, sort of like going back to the mothership, where it would perform alongside the remaining alumni groups to enthusiastic applause.
Today, this style of “Syncopated” drumming is performed almost exclusively by the LRSD. The Long Beach-based groups had mostly folded just before or during the pandemic. There may be a new alumni group in Long Beach, but it’s small. And women do not play any of the instruments there except cymbals. There is a prevailing attitude by the old guard that the overt physical demands of this kind of drumming are too much for women to handle. (Also remember that in the 1960s, when most of these guys were in middle school, it was incredibly rare to see a woman marching anywhere in a drum line. Old attitudes die hard. And so do old drummers.)
More recently, the founder of LRSD has made successful inroads into the public schools, promoting and teaching this style at any school where he will be welcomed as a volunteer coach. Considering how little arts funding there is in Portland Public Schools these days, some schools are grateful for his work and today there’s a tiny Syncopated Drumline at at least one Portland high school.
I want to be totally stoked about this.
At its best, it gets people excited and happy, and make kids think about learning a musical instrument in school.
Unfortunately, the “style” involved here has no basis in actual Rudimental drumming. None.
If you have studied Rudimental drumming, you know that no small amount of technical study and practice is involved in order to learn and master the twenty-six original rudiments (as codified by the National Association of Rudimental Drummers in 1933. The Percussive Arts Society later expanded this list to forty official rudiments).
Syncopated drumming, if you go by these videos, does not utilize the rudiments. Nor does it emphasize the technical or visual uniformity that is a hallmark of Rudimental drumming. It approximates the traditional grip, but the volume required in this style destroys hands.
Check out this photo. The drummer has taped hands, in order to either facilitate a stronger grip or possibly to provide relief from the strain that may well come from drumming this way for a lengthy period of time.
The bass drummer, above, is putting on heavy cowhide work gloves, in order to better grip the bass drum mallets. That’s because when he plays loud, he’s pulling the mallet two feet away from the drum head in order to achieve the desired volume. A modern, Rudimental drum line doesn’t need to hit the head from that far away.
Note how low the drums are hanging, with the leg rests positioned just above the knee.
Also note that most of the snare drummers are holding their sticks with the tips facing away from the head, presumably to get a bigger, fatter sound from the drums, which are usually older, 15” snares and tenors.
(I learned how to March using a drum on a sling and leg rest. My drum never hung this low. My leg rest was positioned in the middle of the thigh, and marching with it was pretty straightforward. I cannot imagine trying to march with my drum hanging this low.)
Here’s an example of the Long Beach style of “Syncopated” drumming, as demonstrated in this retrospective video that includes a couple shots of LRSD from Portland. As you can see and hear, while there’s certainly some syncopation here, there’s not a single legitimate rudiment being played other than single strokes played at varying volumes.
See, this is where I start to struggle a little with “Syncopated” style.
If this guy, in the name of encouraging kids to play drums, is successfully making inroads into schools and getting kids to engage with drumming this way, he’s potentially doing the students, and proper Rudimental drumming, a disservice. Sure, some of these kids may never want to play any other way, and/or may never play drums after high school; but if this is how they learn to play and they want to lay anywhere else — in a college or community band, in an orchestra or a jazz trio — they will have a lot of bad habits to unlearn before they can learn how to play rudiments from someone else, somewhere else. I’m still believe — and a ton of drum teachers will agree — that the rudiments can be applied in all kinds of musical settings and should continue to be a big part of the foundation of drum instruction. Introducing kids to this kind of drumming is cutting them off at the knees.
On the other hand, there are growing noises about just how boring the rudiments are, and how fewer kids want to get that technically geeky, and short attention spans and blah blah blah. And maybe there’s some truth to that. But there are still thousands of students every school year who take the time to learn and master the rudiments on their way to learning how to play snare drum, drumkit and classical percussion.
If I had not been a music educator for thirty five years, I might not care as much. But I was, and I do.
And I am personally glad that this “style” of drumming hasn’t caught on in many places.
Because if I had to choose between my kid learning this:
And this:
I’d pick the one that’s cleaner and more musical.
Especially if I have a kid who wants to play drums in any capacity beyond high school.
If you grew up playing Long Beach style and you want to call me a snob, that’s fine. I can handle it.
I went to a high school with a merely decent concert band and a horrible marching band, and I still managed to learn proper drum technique. I played a different marching instrument every year — single tenor, cymbals, snare and tritoms (class of 1981) — and I took all of that knowledge and technique with me when I played after high school.
I would want no less for my own child, and I don’t apologize for that.
Why am I writing about this now? Honestly, because I would really like to find some rudimentally trained drummers to play with recreationally, say once a month with a performance or three during the summer. And there just isn’t anything locally to satisfy my desires. There’s a small drum and bugle corp outfit in Milwaukie, OR that’s too far from where I live for me to get there regularly, and there are a few Honk! bands I’ve sat in with, one of whom I played with for the better part of three years. I sat in with the former, where none of the other drummers had any training at all (and most didn’t care if they got to play on two and four). I was the only snare drummer in the latter, and when they wanted to March in more protests and longer parades I couldn’t keep up with them. I also got tired of being the only drummer, with no one else on the horizon. (I like second-line, but it’s not something I’m burning to play.)
Every now and then, while I sit at home and chop on a pad (or, rarely, a drum) and wonder what it wou”d be like to find some other drummers who would want to play together strictly for pleasure. It’s not terribly likely to happen here in Portland, especially when LRSD a is such a draw for the folks who never got exposed to more technical marching percussion. So I admit I’m sometimes a little sad that this kind of drumming is attracting more interest than traditional, technically based Rudimental drumming.
I’m on a particular place on the Timeline, and the likelihood of finding what I want is pretty darned low. So I’ll keep drumming on my own until I can’t anymore, and be grateful for what I have.
When I was a freshman in high school, I learned about the National Association of Rudimental Drummers, an organization devoted to promoting and recognizing education and excellence in rudimental drumming. It sounded totally geeky and cool. I decided to make it a goal. I spent weeks practicing the first thirteen rudiments (slow-to-fast-to-slow again) and preparing a solo from the NARD Solo book ("Modern Syncopation," which remains a favorite today).
Unable to find a NARD member who lived close enough to me for an
in-person audition, I arranged to do a a cassette audition, recorded and
proctored by my band director. After weeks of practice and four
attempts at a quality recording, we sent off the best tape, a completed membership application and a letter
of provenance from Mr. Bish to the address on the membership application
in late October 1977. (Below: A blank application, just like the one I filled out)
And then I waited. I waited so long that I feared my packet had gotten lost in the mail. Almost a year later, I got back a thin envelope. I figured it was a rejection letter.
Instead, it was a letter informing
me that NARD had been formally dissolved as of December 1977, and the former secretary
was writing to offer his thanks for a “very good” audition tape, encouragement
to keep drumming, and regret that there was no longer an organization to
admit me into.
I was disappointed, and encouraged. If NARD had still existed, I would’ve
been admitted.
(This was not the kind of encouragement I got from my nightclub musician father, who felt that rudimental drumming was a waste of time. He wanted me to become a jazz drummer or, better still, a symphonic percussionist. I didn't want a career in performance, but in music education. He didn't really get it at the time, though in later years he would warm to it.)
In this letter, I was told by an experienced drummer that I was good and
that I should keep drumming -- exactly the encouragement I longed for. So I did.
Now, over forty years later, NARD exists again to encourage today’s drummers in the pursuit of musical
excellence and beauty.
While talking about our shared geeky love of drum practice pads and rudimental drumming, I told
my story to the president of the organization, Mark Beecher.
He'd seen some of my many drumming videos, and invited me to sign up as a member of NARD at long last. Today, my packet arrived in the mail, not so thin or small.
It’s not the same organization, and that's okay.
I’m not the same drummer.
And my reasons for wanting this have evolved as well. I’m no longer
interested in bragging rights — here in the lefty radical landscape of Portland, there's no point in bragging about ANYthing conected to military history — but instead I’m much more interested in the the musical and technical
traditions of my chosen instrument, and in further democratizing drumming for anyone and everyone who wants to pursue it.
I’m humbled to be recognized by fellow drummers for my continued pursuit
of the craft and love of rudimental drumming, and encouraged to keep rooting around this rabbit hole simply for the joy of it.
While COVID has stripped away, or muted, so many of my other pieces of
musical identity, it has given me time and space to return to MY musical
roots and remember the joy. To remind myself that we don’t “work” our
instruments, we PLAY them.
(From the NARD web site) Mission Statement:
The
purpose of the National Association of Rudimental Drummers is to
protect and preserve a system of standardized rudiments as an anchor for
all marching, concert and drum kit drumming.
As stated by Wm. F. Ludwig in the Spring 1936 issue of The Ludwig Drummer:
"It
is the purpose, aim and object of the N.A.R.D. to standardize drum
rudiments and to encourage their adoption by all earnest students of
drums; also to dispel the erroneous idea that the rudiments are only for
the drum corps drummer."
I got my first copy of the NARD solo book in high school, from a friend who was giving up drumming and gave me his old copy. Forty-two years later, that very same copy sits on my music stand. Since returning to rudimental drumming several years ago, I have returned to the solos in this book for pure pleasure. Each solo, written in the 1920's or 30's by a champion rudimental drummer and fouding member of NARD (National Association of Rudimental Drummers), is a little gem showcasing one or more of the original twenty-six drum rudiments. They provide plenty of inspiration for intermediate drummers and a solid challenge for more experienced players as well. The NARD book is legendary amount rudimental snare drummers; our answer to the Arbans trumpet book or Schirmer's edition of Italian art song for singers. It's a classic.
Still at home and on partial bed rest following eye surgery, I used some of my upright time this week to work up a solo from the book, "The Follies" by Jack Lynehan. It's deceptively simple to play, but timing -- and sticking -- are left up to the p;layer. There are no stickings indicated, meaning that you have to be familiar enough with traditional rudimentsl drumming to know which stickings make the most sense, and how many strokes to play in a roll (based on how fast you want to play it, and how clean your rolls are).
I had fun working this one up at a reasonable tempo today. As I tell myself regularly: Clean now, fast comes later.
When I was learning how to play, there were twenty-six officially recognized rudiments, keys to mastering the unique sounds and techniques of the snare drum. Today, thanks in large part to the influence of the modern Marching Arts, that list has expanded to forty rudiments (as codified by the Percussive Arts Society in the 1980s). Many of these are variations or expansions on the first twenty-six and others are licks best played on high-tension (Kevlar) heads. Strung together, these newer rudiments help to make up a growing library of technically demanding solo pieces whose musicality is often hard to discern by the untrained ear.
The beauty of these old-school solos is that, though they're still challenging, they have a musicality that is easy to hear and follow, with phrases and motives that make for satisfying pieces of music as well as technical training exercises. And that's why I never tire of diving into drum music from this earlier era. Because it's musical as well as technical.
Nearly ninety years after its first printing, The NARD book is still in print and available through multiple online outlets. And it's worth every penny. If you're not familiar with this book, get a copy and have fun with it. Happy Chopping!
I was raised to be a proud, grateful American.
Proud of an experiment in freedom that gave the world a new way to think about self-determination.
Grateful that my ancestors, escaping anti-Semitic pogroms in Eastern Europe, had a shining, golden place to come to and in which to rebuild their lives. Growing up, I celebrated every Independence Day with delight, with light and noise.
Independence Day is the ultimate extrovert's celebration.
Then, over time, corners of the rug started getting pulled back, to reveal all the bad things about how our country was created and founded. Over the last decade or so I have learned that slavery was more than a horrible idea, that it in fact was a key pillar of our nation's founding. I have learned that we haven't come as far as we thought we had on issues of racial, gender and social justice, that there are still so many white people who insist on hating those who differ from them and insist on raising their kids and grandkids to feel the same way. I have learned that there are a lot of white Americans who are itching to fight another Civil War, who cannot wait to blow black and brown people and their allies back to the Stone Age and dance on their bodies. The bloodlust and bigotry in our nation has not gone away.
I have loved rudimental drumming since I first learned of it as a schoolgirl.
Something about it grabbed me by the collar and fired up my musical ears and inspired me to become a musical mathematician myself, to join the long line of rudimental drummers and keep the tradition alive. Never mind that the long line of rudimental drummers was almost entirely male and nearly all white; I ignored that (or wasn't taught to notice it, or maybe I did notice it and wanted to be a drummer so badly that I didn't care -- I don't really know) and was all in.
Today, while my arthritic hands are not contest material by any means, I can more than hold my own in a community band drum line and I play well enough to really enjoy myself. I play almost every day now, partly as a way to deal with my shpilkes (Yiddish - restlessness) and partly because I still love the artform.
But the artform has its roots in a tradition of war and conquest, and I cannot deny that either.
This is where I have to sit in my ambivalence and stew on it. Because while I still love the artform, while I still love the feel of picking up a pair of sticks and playing rolls, paradiddles and ruffs, I feel weird about the other messages that my drumming sends, the stories it reinforces. And I wonder what my part is in reinforcing those old messages, that old history which so desperately needs to be corrected (since it cannot be undone). Drums were present on the battlefield in every major Civil War battle. They drummed out a throbbing, painful pulse at "America First" rallies during the first and second World Wars; KKK gatherings and even some lynchings. And they continue to bring up vestiges of American colonialism and American exceptionalism that lately have made me sit less comfortably with the artform.
How can I turn my talent and skill into something for good? How do I take something rooted in the art of war and conquest, and turn it into a call for real justice?
I don't have the answer. This is probably the deepest I've ever gone in asking questions about the roots of my chosen artform and instrument, and these questions are uncomfortable. I think they're supposed to be.
I'll still play on my pad every day -- it's therapeutic -- but I honestly don't know what I'll do about Independence Day this year.
