Yeah, wiping the blade makes a big difference for me too. I’ve tried just sanding out the chatter, but it’s way more work in the end. Sometimes I’ll even swap knives if one’s picking up too much gunk. That little bit of extra effort up front saves a ton of sanding later.
Funny you mention swapping knives—I’ve actually done the same thing, but usually because I bought a cheap set and they’re all a bit wonky. I used to think I could just sand away any mistakes, but after one weekend of endless dust and sore arms, I started keeping an old rag handy to wipe down my blade every few passes. It’s such a simple thing, but it really does keep the joints smoother. Those little shortcuts end up saving way more time (and money) than you’d think.
That rag trick is a lifesaver, honestly. I used to think sanding was the answer to everything, but after my third round of cleaning up drywall dust from every crevice in the house, I realized prevention is way better than cure. Funny how the simplest habits—like wiping the blade—make the biggest difference. You’re not alone in the cheap knife struggle, either... I swear some of mine are more banana-shaped than straight.
You’re speaking my language with the banana-shaped knives. I swear, half the time I’m fighting the tool more than the wall. I’ve got one that’s so warped, it’s basically a spatula at this point—great for pancakes, not so much for feathering mud.
And yes, the rag trick is criminally underrated. People spend a fortune on sanding blocks and fancy dust extractors, but a simple wipe between passes saves hours (and your sanity). I used to think more sanding meant a better finish, but honestly, it just meant more dust in my coffee and a sore shoulder. Prevention really is the name of the game.
I will say, though, sometimes you just have to surrender to the chaos and accept that “perfectly smooth” is a myth unless you’re working in a vacuum. At a certain point, I just call it “character” and move on.
Couldn’t agree more about the “character” approach. I’ve spent way too many hours chasing invisible seams in 100-year-old plaster, only to realize the walls themselves are waving at me. At some point, you just have to accept that a little imperfection is part of the charm—especially in older homes. The rag trick is gold, though. I wish I’d learned that before sanding my fingerprints off. Honestly, half the time, I think the light in the room matters more than the finish itself... as long as it looks good at a glance, I call it a win.
