Feck,
Web director at Union College by day, layers the digital
shot I send of myself and superimposes it over other images
culled from his bottomless library to complete the scenario
and sends me an e-mail that evening with a near-finished
product attached. The text of his message says it all:
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Let me know what you think. Jim.”
It
is perfect. “I couldn’t believe it,” he says of his handiwork
when we meet for a step-by-step glimpse of how DrumART
works. “It really is one of the reasons I love to do this,
because you get all of these requests that sound ridiculous,
but once you get working on it and it comes together you’re
like, ‘Oh my God, now I totally understand where they’re
going with that.’”
Apparently,
drummers go everywhere. Feck’s portfolio of more than
750 designs ranges from Van Gogh’s Starry Night to
Ben Franklin with liberty spikes. “Oh man, we’ve even
done heads as boobs . . . like a big set of jugs,” he
recalls with a chuckle. “This one kid Drew, his mom had
this picture of him taking a jump on water skis, so he’s
midair and we put this big DREW! across the bottom
as if it were the ramp he’s launching from. It was hilarious.”
Feck’s
laughter is contagious, and as he clicks into his editing
software for some minor adjustments to my head we break
up again, because the details—the nest, the broken egg
fragments, the hay-bale font—work so well with the ludicrousness
of my image. “The reaction I get from people is awesome,”
he says. “I also love getting the photographs of the heads
when they put them on the kits. Before-and-after pics,
live pics, group pics. . . . It’s like looking at baby
pictures. Every head has a story.”
The
DrumART story began in 1997, when the Voorheesville native
played in a local cover band touring the Lake George circuit.
By chance, he met a designer who worked in a Watervliet
sign shop, and Feck appreciated the classic “shield” heads
he fabricated for local jazz drummer-instructor Ted Mackenzie.
This got him thinking about designs for his own drums.
“About a year later I called this guy up and we started
working on a few heads for me,” he explains. “That’s when
I started thinking about building a business, and I found
that there wasn’t enough local demand to support this
type of thing, not even enough regionally. But since I’m
a Web developer by profession, I knew that with the Internet,
the whole world is the market. So in 2003 we went
into business as a partnership.”
Feck
describes his early attempts at making heads as “pretty
rough,” the finished product sometimes not completely
centered or with small air pockets between decal and head,
but as he tried to make good on a product that came out
less-than perfect, he was shocked to learn how little
people expected from businesses. “I would always offer
free stickers and other stuff if a job didn’t come out
a hundred percent, and the worst anyone ever said was,
‘Thanks for the stickers!’” he recalls. “People should
expect more, so now I try to raise that expectation.”
With
fellow musicians always in mind, Feck developed a removable
logo technology for working drummers who play in multiple
bands, a patent-pending innovation that gives him a significant
advantage over competitors. “Other companies offer removable
logos, but they only work once; the decal is destroyed
the first time you remove it,” he says. “No one else has
our capabilities. With our method, it sticks like iron.
You literally have to dig under it with your nails and
pry it off. Plus, the decals themselves are virtually
indestructible.” With that, he stretches a sample of the
material across his chest, crumples it into a little ball
and tosses it on his assembly table. The sample snaps
back into shape immediately. “I think I even spilled beer
on this one and you can’t even tell,” he proudly declares.
As
word got around the Internet, the business slowly began
to flourish. Staying true to its core beliefs, DrumART
built a solid reputation for quick turnaround, quality
product and customer service, and when the fledgling operation’s
first Christmas season arrived, it was flooded with orders
from all over the country. As Feck saves my design to
file and sends it to the printer, he describes the catalyst
that soundly established DrumART as an industry leader.
“We got hammered, totally overwhelmed during that holiday
season,” he explains. “Modern Drummer did an article
on us in November of 2004, and after that it just got
nuts. It’s funny because we still don’t advertise much.
We’ve only recently started putting ads in the drum magazines,
so it’s still by-and-large word-of-mouth.”
With
the help of the Internet, word of mouth can have a long
reach. Feck has been tapped to produce heads for major-label
acts like Seether, Chimaira, In Flames, Better Than Ezra,
Dimmu Borgir, Lacuna Coil, even the (Grateful) Dead. “Most
of them just do a Web search and call me,” he says. “The
European metal acts are all managed by one company, so
once they saw what we could do, they started calling for
other bands.”
“My
partner, I think he’d had enough after that season,” he
continues. “He just didn’t have the time, so I had to
decide whether I wanted to take on all that extra work
and financial responsibility myself. But I figured, ‘What
the hell?’ So we took a huge loan out on the house and
bought that printer.”
Feck
tips his head toward his Roland SolJet SC-540—humming
with efficiency as it inks up a full-size print of my
plight in the bird nest—with an expression between curiosity
and awe as to both its capabilities and its price. The
$25,000 device spans the entire length of his workspace
(and looks like something reverse-engineered from alien
spacecraft), but despite the investment, he maintains
that DrumART is just a side project. “It’s a nice little
side thing. . . . I don’t know if it’s anything I’ll ever
do full-time,” he says, ripping my now bass-drum-sized
image from the Roland, which automatically perforates
its circumference as we laugh again at my screaming mug
piece. “It would be nice, but I really like working at
Union. It’s a great job, with great people, so this is
just for fun. As long as I can keep doing both, I will.”
But
that’s not all he keeps doing. An accomplished drummer
in his own right, Feck remains busy on the live circuit,
recently manning the drum stool for local metallurgists
Great Day for Up, while still finding time for his wife
Melissa and their two children. His secret ingredient?
“I don’t sleep a whole lot,” he confides with a laugh.
“But I never really have, so that kind of helps because
it gives me more hours in the day. I get bored if I’m
not doing a whole bunch of stuff, and I’m really having
fun right now.”
Whipping
an Aquarian 24-inch bass head from a utility closet, Feck
reiterates what he calls his “kinda corny but sincere”
goal to give back to music communities around the globe.
“We’re a family business, so we keep costs low, and besides—this
is no bullshit—we really believe in what we’re doing,
and want to give back to fellow drummers,” he says. “I
mean, we want to make money, and we certainly don’t want
to lose money, but. . . . I’m a Web professional.
I don’t have to outsource that. My wife Melissa is currently
VP of human resources and was previously a VP of marketing
at a local credit union, so she has incredible business
sense and handles the shipping and accounting sides of
the business. My dad is retired so he’ll do a lot of the
assembly. We pass that savings on to the customer.”
Another
thing they pass along is gratitude. When Hurricane Katrina
rocked the Gulf Coast last year, Feck auctioned off a
dozen heads signed by some of his more famous clients
on eBay, raising more than $5,000 for the Mr. Holland’s
Opus Foundation, a nonprofit group that gives musical
instruments to children in underserved schools (the company
suspended its nationwide goals to focus on Katrina last
year). “When Katrina happened, the music communities wanted
to do something to help musicians,” he says. “So I thought
some of our famous clients would be willing to reproduce
and sign their custom heads and auction them off.”
He
was right. Not one performer he approached turned him
down, including members of the Dead, Trey Anastasio, Stewart
Copeland of the Police and No Doubt’s Adrian Young. The
Grateful Dead’s Bill Kreutzmann even donated original
artwork for his two contributions. Feck then got
the International Music Products Association (aka NAMM,
an acronym for the group’s former name) to match the amount
raised by the auctions. “The whole thing was incredible,”
Feck recalls as he squeegees my image onto the head, still
marveling at the finished product. “Kids going through
such a disaster and being able to play music again, make
new friends, lose themselves in music again. Also, I was
completely humbled by the support we received. It makes
you realize how much, at its core, music really is a unifying
force. No matter what you play or how you play it, I think
all musicians have a shared experience. . . . of learning
their instrument and playing in a band.”
He
holds my frightened, finished face into the air triumphantly.
“We all share that, and it’s a wonderful thing.”
For
more information regarding DrumART, visit online at www.drumart.com
or call (877) DRUMART.