DIY stick bag

Simple pattern for making your own stick bag from an old pair of jeans. 

 

When we ask where or how something is made it's because we care.

When I research makers of finer drum sticks, mallets and accessories, one of the things I want to know is where and how a thing is made, and by whom.

It's great if the thing is made by the person who designs it, because that means it's more likely a small-batch, craft-made thing, like drum sticks by folks like John Crocken and the guys at LA Backbeat.

When a thing is very fine quality and high-zoot in design and price, but is not made by the designer, finding out who makes it can be a LOT harder and sometimes impossible. AND if I ask too pointedly or specifically, a designer can get downright nasty about it. (See my article from earlier this year about Revolution practice pads for an example.)

Looking at manufacturing practices tells me if the thing is sustainably and humanely produced. And that in turn tells me something about the mindset of the designer of said product, and where they stand on such things as a businessperson. I have the right as a consumer to ask these questions, but they also have the right to withhold information.

Well, I reached out and asked the designer of a very fine line of sticks, mallets and percussion accessories how, where and by whom his designs are made. I can’t say I’m shocked by his response but it is a bit of a bummer. “Hi Beth, I know who you are and have seen some of your posts on FB collecting vintage sticks. What you are asking is pretty sensitive proprietary information of me and I prefer to keep it that way. I hope you understand.”

In short, it’s my experience that anyone who won’t say where their products are being made is probably having them made in China, or any other country where workmanship is high but work itself is low-paying and manufacturing practices largely unsustainable.

Years ago when I managed inventory for a bicycle shop, I asked similar questions at an industry-only trade show, and got similar responses. I finally pressed someone at the booth for Rickshaw Bags, an up-and-coming messenger bag maker, and he admitted that the sub-assemblies -- the inner pockets and zippered compartments and such, are made in China and sent to the US for final assembly into bags.
"No one else can sew those sub-assemblies as consistently well and affordably," he told me. "At the volume that most bag makers are working with, almost no one is still making their bags entirely in the US anymore."

Because if you have to charge the real cost of making a messenger bag in the US, the price will kill your business. Americans are addicted to paying as little as possible, even for something that a high price justifies by its quality and methods.

"Cheap" manufacturing and high volume output are killing the small craftsman, especially in the drum business.
And so the next step is to design something that looks and feels high-zoot, price it accordingly, and keep quiet about where and how it's made.

(Rapha did this in the bicycle industry, and was fairly successful at it for awhile — with slick designs in bicycle clothing and accessories, all being made in countries where there are few laws regarding living wage or workers’ rights in general. In the beginning, no one cared because Rapha was based in the UK and the high price was part of the line’s allure. Eventually, the company got sold to a subsidiary of the Walmart empire, prices came down only a little, and it became the subject of a very big bike industry joke. People still wear Rapha, they’re still willing to pay a fortune for the branding — because Rapha is very, very good at branding and peoples’ egos respond accordingly because no one wants the illusion shattered  — and they’re still a moneymaking brand for someone. I have never owned or worn Rapha on my bike rides, and never will.)

This is a big part of why I decided to try and make my own stuff, either original ideas or versions of mass-produced things I couldn't justify the cost of. Because how badly do I want to support a company's bottom line by paying for things they didn't make themselves, things they happily have made overseas under less-than-transparent conditions?

I'm happy to save my pennies and pay full pop for something the designer makes themselves:
John Crocken, Artifact Percussion, LA Backbeat, Beetle Percussion, GB Manufacturing, Cherry Hill Drums, Cooperman. The price and wait are worth it when a craftsman takes the time and care to make it good, and they should be paid accordingly. Craft matters.

I'm not so willing to pay similarly high prices for designers who don't make their own stuff AND are cagey about where and how their stuff is made, and pass it off as craft.

When consumers ask where or how something is made, it's because we care.
We care about best practices in the workplace, in the sourcing and preparing of raw materials, and in the expertise and care taken by the craftsman to create a fine product.
As a consumer, I think it's not only okay to ask, it's our responsibility as consumers to participate in the buy-sell exchange by asking.
A designer or retailer who knows the answers to our questions and won't give them is treating us like idiots or children, thinking that it's better if we don't press too hard, don't look too closely. They worry that if we see how the sausage is made we won't buy it; or worse, we'll find a way to make our own.
That's the risk you take in making and selling things. Accept the risk and don't worry about our questions.

Tonight, I'm going to finish recovering a pair of timpani mallets so I can use them.
Happy drumming.

(Note: photo removed by designer request.)

Product Review: Cherry Hill Drums drum keys

If you need a new drum key, and you want it to be your last one, stop looking.

I’ve found it for you.

Run, don’t walk to Cherry Hill Drums and order a drum key from a real craftsman.

I got the Junior in solid brass. It’s formidable, and perfect in my hand.

Being solid brass, it’s going to see me out.

Not cheap, but a good price for the durability and beauty of the thing

Worth every penny.

Homemade timpani mallets

 

Timp mallet repairs, an ongoing project

Replace worn mallet heads on Duff-style threaded handles with felt cymbal washers and leather cut into washer rounds. Probably better for drum kit and concert toms than for timpani, though they will "break in" and soften with use.

I like how they turned out.

 

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 time: flip-over drum mutes by Pearl, and by Yours Truly

Yeah, I know. 

Technically, this is some kind of copyright infringement.

But since I don’t plan to sell mine, I figure no harm, no foul.

Pearl’s design retails for $25.

 

My copy, which cost less than five bucks in materials.

The idea, I think, is to muffle the worst of the overtone ring, which my design does pretty well.

I suspect making it with suede would work better as the suede offers more flexibility, but I can just play with the leather to work it a bit and eventually achieve the same result.

I noticed that in the customer reviews, someone said Pearl’s design was faulty because you couldn’t keep it from popping off the tension bolt when playing a rim shot or loud accent. My thinking is that ther user might be faulty because if you’re muting the drum, why would you 0ay, you know, loud?

It’s a good design, and works nicely on my new-old drum.