Pad Interestingness: a roundup of recent activity

In the last week or so, I’ve been devoting time to all sorts of pad research, DIT an improvements and a couple of acquisitions. Here's a roundup.

1. Vintage practice pads made using solid wood can be far more resonant — and louder! — than later pads using plywood. I like to make mutes for these older pads I’m scrap foam. This is my latest, using leftover scraps of ensolite camping pad material that I stacked, glued and shaped to fit. Works beautifully.

2. In high school, my section leader acquired a brand new pad that had just come out, called the Trankle Pocket Pad. He had money and his parents got him whatever drum gear he needed or wanted. The pad wasn’t cheap — over $20 in 1979! — but after trying it we all wanted one. I finally got one in college, and took it everywhere with me. But by the mid 1980s the company had folded and suddenly you couldn’t find the pads anymore. I sold that original pad to a classmate and always regretted it.

Last week, I bought another from a guy who’d had it since college. When it arrived, I could see and feel that the gum rubber was in bad shape, so I decided to replace it. It’s not pretty but it does work, and I’m happy with the results.

3. Six months ago, this little pad appeared in an online ad. The seller had offered it with sticks and an old woodblock, all from his uncle’s estate. He wanted $60 cash, in-person for the lot. I asked about buying just the pad but at the time he didn’t want to ship. So I thanked him, and waited. Occasionally, I’d check to see if the listing was still active. Two weeks ago, the pad appeared in a new listing by itself, now for far less money. I reached out to the seller and asked if he’d consider shipping it to me. He agreed. I mailed him a money order, he mailed me the pad and now it’s here. It’s the only pad from Pep Products (a small drum parts manufacturer based in Kankakee, Illinois during the mid-twentieth century) that I’ve seen that wasn’t made of a solid block of rubber.

It’s a calfskin head stretched over some kind of frame — plastic? Wood? I’m not sure — and mounted on a small wood platform with a tilt built in. It’s a small, delicate thing, likely from the late 1940s or early 50s, and I wouldn’t chop seriously on it at this point. But I’m thrilled to have this here for examination and research. If anyone can share more info about the Pep Products company, I’d be grateful.

Happy drumming!

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 Drummer: New Vintage -- Bower replica pads, small batch

I was asked by Mark Beecher (president of NARD and a brilliant drummer and drum historian) if I’d make up a few replicas of the first patented practice pad, designed by Harry Bower in 1919 and patented in 1921.

Other pads were in existence, and offered by various makers throughout the early years of the twentieth century. But the concept of “mass”production in the 1910s was at best, in the hundreds, not in the tens of thousands large companies produce today.

Bower’s design was simple, and by modern standards downright primitive. A wooden platform, a layer of wool, covered by a thin layer of tanned leather, all bound up by string or a shoelace. I. Still trying to learn what the retail price was but I can’t imagine it was more than a dollar or two.

After the patent was awarded, Bower contracted with another fellow to “mass” produce the pads and distribute them. I’m still researching the success of the enterprise — and the longevity. 

Anyway, here’s the pad.

I glued a copy of the original label to the underside.

And did this over again five times. Four of the pads are available at $50 each including shipping in USA, and my original prototype is available at $25 including shipping in USA. 

(I’ll keep the fifth pad for myself.)

It’s not a modern pad. There’s just enough response that you can use your wrists and fingers to pull out decent strokes from the leather. If you want effortless rebound, buy a RealFeel.

But if you want to try a pad that your grandparents or great-grandparents might have practiced on, try this. It will give you new respect for the drummers of an earlier age and help you appreciate how far we’ve come.

(Video, playing my finished pad according to the instructions on the label)

Vintage Corner: Slingerland Drum UPDATE 2: Rims and shell

Since I was gifted with this drum last summer, here's the progress:

1. I took it all apart so I could begin to clean the hardware and repair the cracks in the snare-side maple hoop.

2.  I gave the bottom hoop to my brother-in-law, a woodworker, so he could soak it and bring the cracked section back into round with the rest of the hoop. This process took a couple of weeks.

3. While I waited for that piece to get finished (in between Ron's professional woodworking jobs), I cleaned the rods and hooks using a Rust Remover stick and finishing with some Nevr-Dull.

4. I got the hoop back from Ron, and finished the repair by adding sections of bicycle spoke to strengthen the repaired crack. I also began removing the tape residue from the rims and shell.

First, the snare hoop. The repair looked pretty good, nice and solid; but Ron advised me that without adding some internal supports it would eventually weaken and break again from tension and repeated playing. So I found a drill bit the right size and carefully drilled two tiny holes through the center of the rim, across the repaired crack. Because the other side of the hoop was showing the beginning of the same fatigue, I drilled holes there too.

The holes were run directly crosswise through the crack and the glue used to repair it.




Then, I took an old bicycle spoke and measured off sections long enough to run through the hoop, with perhaps a couple millimeters counter-sunk on either end.
I checked my work by running a spoke through the hole. It fit perfectly.

Then I measured sections of the spoke and cut off four pieces.

I squirted super-glue into each hole, chased it through with a section of metal spoke, and made sure each end was slightly counter-sunk when finished. Then I set the hoop sideways to allow everything to dry overnight. (By using a thicker gel instead of liquid glue, I was assured that glue would not drip out all over the place.)

The next morning, everything looked fine. I'll need to decide whether or not I want to try and fill in the ends with some wood putty, or just let it be.

Then I turned my attention to removing tape residue from the shell. A friend in Seattle had given me a bottle of an environmentally-friendly solvent called "Best Cleaner Ever," and I tried it.
Following the instructions, I sprayer a little on, let it soak in for a few minutes and then tried to wipe it off. It did nothing to remove the residue; and in fact the solvent itself had to wiped down thoroughly with warm water to remove its own residue. In the end, it may have loosened the tape residue, but that masking tape had been there for fifty or more years, so it's hard to know. I had to carefully scrape it away with a pocket knife, applied gently enough to remove the tape without gouging the wood underneath.

When I was done, I was left with a shell that still show signs of use and abuse, but the luster of the mahogany also showed up nicely. So I've chosen to leave the shell alone, not removing the original clear paint. I will apply some clear coat to the spots or bare wood that need it, and let the "beausage" be a part of the drum's look. The mahogany itself is gorgeous enough, even with the damage.

I still have some residue to remove from the batter hoop tonight. After that, I'll probably sand both hoops lightly, apply something to seal the bare wood spots, and let it all dry for a few days.
Then I'll begin reassembling the drum.
I don't plan to use a leg rest with this drum, but will instead just let it hang against my leg at a tilt. It will be a fair-weather drum only, or if I use it indoors it will be on a stand.
This was an unexpected gift and I'm glad I've had time to learn from repairing and rebuilding it.
Next: video of the finished drum. Coming soon!

Vintage Corner: Slingerland Deluxe Practice Pad #958, circa 1960's

Here's a really nice vintage pad from the early 1960's or so, from Slingerland. The Deluxed Pad # 958 could be used on a tabletop, or fitted with screws for attachment to a dedicated stand (very much like my older Radio Kind model from the late 40's which I acquired with a stand).

  This pad came to me without a stand, but with the little rubber "feet" intact.

The playing surface is lively and has plenty of rebound.
And the solid oak plank construction has a pretty nice finish, too.

It's just slightly smaller in size than my Radio King, but sounds terrific and, with thicker and livelier rubber, feels better.

Note: When demonstrating older pads, I try to use a stick size more appropriate to the pad's period. While I practice daily with my Jeff Queens (my go-to rudimental/marching stick), I don't want to destroy an old pad! Here, I opt for a smaller stick and get a great feel and sound. On a vintage pad that's sturdy enough for more regular use, I might go as large as a 1S stick if the pad warrants it; but most of the time I'm content with a 2B concert stick.
Happy drumming.

Restore? or Leave alone? When to meddle in the vintage stew

So when is it appropriate to leave a vintage pad alone simply because it’s vintage? And when is it appropriate to repair a vintage pad to make it playable again?
This is definitely a case-by-case situation. But I’d offer my own personal parameters as a starting point for discussion.

1. I’d consider repairing an old pad if:

— it looks like dozens of other pads of similar design;
—there’s no identifying logo, decal, badge or distinctive design element to set it apart;
— it’s identifiable as one of thousands manufactured;
— you didn’t pay much for it;
— it meets at least three of the above and someone would enjoy playing it.

2. I’d leave the pad alone if:

— it has a logo, badge or distinctive design element that sets it apart;
— it’s a long shot but you want to research it further;
— you paid more for it;
— repairing or otherwise altering it would diminish its historical and financial (because let’s be real) value;
— there’s nothing else like it in your collection;
— it’s a double you might use to trade later for something else (I try not to keep much on hand for this purpose as it clouds my reasons for collecting to begin with).

Below is an example of a pad I’ve decided to make playable again. It’s just like the three other pads I have that are in better shape and have intact decals or badges; it’s condition was poor/unplayable but repair would make it useful to someone; and it wouldn’t end up in a landfill.

I’ve removed the original rubber disc, which will serve as a pattern for its bouncier replacement after I clean the old glue out of the recessed area.
I covered the underside with repurposed gaming pad, rubber side showing as a non-skid surface.
(I’ll save the old disc as another non-skid surface for a future repair.)
And when it’s done, I’ll have a nice no-name practice pad to keep or re-home.

Vintage Corner: Ludwig practice pad, 1960's-80's

I'd been looking for one of these "Tuneable" pads for literally years, when I came across one at Goodwill -- which is odd, because things this cool generally don't make it to the shelves.
But this one did, and I snapped it up for a cool ten bucks.

Ludwig started offering this pad in the later 1960s (it first showed up in a 1967 catalog), and they remained in the catalog through at least the mid-80s. So I can't really know how old this pad is. But the scrpit logo is a clue, since Ludwig went to its more rectangular logo in the 1970s. So I'm guessing that this pad dates from the late 60s to around 1970.

(I never saw one of these during my school days (I graduated high school in 1981). It was likely more expensive than the Remo and hardly anyone could afford more than that in my largely working-class high school.)

It's basically a variation on the ubiquitous Remo pad of the same era, the main differences being the aluminum top plate/rim and the tuning screws. The screws are installed from the bottom, and nuts shaped like tension rods are screwed in from the top, meaning that this pad can be tuned using a standard drum key. 

The head shows enough wear to tell me this was a truly useful practice pad in its day. Even earlier Mylar heads, when tuned properly, could last a good long time.

I haven't been able to find details about the possibility of copyright infringement on Luwidg's part (of Remo's original design), so perhaps there was an agreement or some aspect of the original copyright lapsed to allow for what I see as an upgrade. I'll keep looking through copyright records and see what I can learn.

Below: although the pad is large at ten inches diameter, there's a threaded hold allowing for use on a cymbal stand. There are also three little rubber "feet" on bottom, which would be fine on a tabletop.

For being from the late 60's the pad shows quite a lot of wear and tear, but the original head is intact. There is some wear along the bearing edge -- not surprising for a well-loved pad -- but a careful quarter-turn of the tension nuts reveals a sound and feel that's not unlike that of a snare drum from the era, when heads were tuned looser than they would be later in the 80s and 90s.

Below: wear at the bearing edge, which was perhaps made a little too sharp for this use. I assume replacement heads would have been available from Ludwig.

I love this design, which makes tuning much easier than the slotted bolts on the Remo pads.

I took a pair of vintage 2B sticks from the wall display and tried it out. I was surprised at how nice the response was, even on a much lower tuned pad. I was reminded of a modern replica rope drum that I played years ago, and the tension on this pad is not unlike that.

Here's a little video.

I'll see what further research I can do on this.
Readers: If any of you owned this pad back in the day, PLEASE reach out and let me know.
Cheers and happy drumming!

Vintage drum: Slingerland parade drum, 14 x 10

My friend dropped off a stack of drums today.
The four concert drums with metal shells I'm going to clean up for him to use with his radical drum corps. The fifth drum, a wooden parade drum, he said was mine to keep.

It's filthy and needs a lot of cleaning, along with replacement heads.
I'm guessing from the hardware and badge that it's probably from the 1960s.

Here are photos of the drum as I received it today. As I take it apart and clean it up over the next few weeks, I'll post periodic updates.

  

The hardware appears to be all original, which hints at a 1960s vintage.

I love the old-school drum key slot (below).
If this comes back I'll want to look for a period-correct key. It's filthy and looks either paint- or mud-splattered.
But I think it should clean up nicely, especially with some replacement heads (Ambassador top and bottom).

Not sure what I'll do about the finish. One friend has suggested I simply clean off the dirt and apply some wax. There are a few places where the stain has worn away but I think it's honest wear, and I may just sand it lightly and let it be. I'll ask the guys at Revival Drum Shoip what they recommend.

I think this will be a nice project to distract me from the pandemic over the next few weeks.

welcome to drumlove

I've decided to create a new blog devoted to my first musical love.
Before I ever picked up a guitar, before I ever sang in public, I played drums.
I began with a friend's Hoppity Hop (remember those bouncy-ride toys from the 1970s?), and soon progressed to a set of toy bongos my Dad bought for me at Frontier Village theme park in San Jose.
I was eight, and my bongos became my friend. I played them all the time.
In fifth grade, I joined the school band and learned to play snare drum, bass drum, and eventually all the instruments of concert percussion. In high school, I became my wind ensemble's principal tympanist (mostly because I have perfect pitch and because my section leader had little interest in playing anything other than snare drum. Classic.)

Along the way, I also got into pageantry arts education (marching band, drum and bugle corps, etc.); opened a private percussion studio; and made a nice side-career teaching high school drum lines and marching bands; and played for a few bands in clubs in and around Portland.

Twenty years ago, the percussion came to a halt when I was riding my bike and won the "door prize" (a euphenism for getting hit by an opening truck door). The damage to my hands was severe and the residual effects (early-onset arthritis, joint stiffness and pain in changing humidity) have been lifelong. I had to give up timpani and mallets, the two sets of instruments required a certain kind of muscular dexterity I could no longer attain. After establishing myself as a guitar playing singer-songwriter, I returned to rudimental drumming mostly for fun. My chops aren't what they were when I was young, and probably never will be; but I've gotten enough juice back to enjoy myself and to create a daily meditative practice around rudimental drumming on a rubber practice pad.

I've also become an enthusiastic collector of vintage practice pads, and a researcher of historic developments and patents for pad designs. (The header photo shows a few of the pads in my collection.)

Today, I still pursue my career as a touring Jewish musician, traveling to synagogues, camps and JCC's as an artist/educator-in-residence. However, I've made a little more room in my daily musical life for rudimental drumming, hand drumming and creating percussion instruments from repurposed and found objects.

I'll use this blog to share research, photos of interesting practice pads, videos of drumming in action, and bits and pieces of my renewed drumming adventures. Stay tuned! (Below: a sample of my return to drumming, reading from my old NARD book. Cheers!)