What I got wrong when I made my first cymbal…

The First Attempt That Didn’t Go to Plan

I still remember it vividly — my first attempt at making a cymbal. I was buzzing with excitement, hammer in hand, thinking I could create something incredible in one go. Spoiler: I couldn’t.

I underestimated so much. The weight, the metal, the hammering pattern. Everything that seemed minor at the time turned out to completely change the sound. The learning curve hit me like a drumstick to the edge, and cymbal blanks are not cheap…

Where I Went Wrong

I didn’t just make a few small errors; I made almost every mistake a first-time cymbal maker can make.

• Hammering too hard in the wrong spots – I thought more force would equal more character. It didn’t. The cymbal sounded harsh and uneven.
• Hammering underneath too early and not trusting the process, most cymbal makers can relate
• Ignoring metal fatigue – I didn’t understand how repetitive hammering weakens certain areas. By the end, I had a few tiny cracks forming.
• Bell shaping mistakes – Too high, too low, slightly off-center. It completely shifted the tone.
• Not trusting my ears – I was so focused on “doing it right” that I stopped listening to how it actually sounded at every stage.

Looking back, these mistakes were brutal — but also essential. Every misstep taught me what works and what doesn’t.

The Turning Point

The moment I realised I needed patience and observation was when I hammered a small prototype and compared it to another cymbal. The difference wasn’t just in sound — it was in feel, movement, and even the way it responded under sticks.

From there, I started testing more deliberately. Light hammering, small adjustments, and listening at every stage. Slowly, mistakes became lessons, and lessons became sound improvements.

Why Sharing This Matters

Making a cymbal isn’t glamorous and it isn’t easy. There’s no YouTube shortcut that gives you the experience of shaping, listening, adjusting and shaping again. But sharing what went wrong is important: it reminds other drummers, makers and aspiring boutique brands that craft takes time, trial, and persistence.

If you want real handmade cymbals that feel alive and respond like they should, you have to embrace mistakes. That’s how you learn. That’s how you grow.

What Comes Next

After that first disaster, I’ve come a long way — but the lessons from that day still guide me. Every cymbal I make now carries intention, patience, and subtle adjustments that only come from hands-on experience.

Yes, some of the lessons even spill over into how I play and test cymbals, connecting directly to the advice in blogs like Why Two Cymbals That Look Identical Can Sound Completely Different (coming soon). Each mistake I made helped me understand tone, balance, and nuance better — and that knowledge goes straight into the cymbals I craft today.

Author’s Note

Every cymbal I make is hammered, tuned, and tested by hand — shaped with patience, mistakes, and intention. My first cymbal and in fact my first few batches didn’t go perfectly, but it set the foundation for everything I do today.

If you want to hear more about how I craft cymbals or talk drums, feel free to reach out through Ashmore Cymbals Co — I’m always happy to chat.