Roy Eldridge - Early Life

Early Life

Eldridge was born on the North Side of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on January 30, 1911 to parents Alexander, a carpenter, and Blanche, a gifted pianist with a talent for reproducing music by ear, a trait that Eldridge claimed to have inherited from her. Eldridge began playing the piano at age five; he claims to have been able to play coherent blues licks at even this young age. The young Eldridge looked up to his older brother, Joe, particularly because of Joe's diverse musical talents on the violin, alto saxophone, and clarinet. Roy took up the drums at the age of six, taking lessons and playing locally. Joe recognized his brother's natural talent on the bugle, which Roy played in a local church band, and tried to convince Roy to play the valved trumpet. When Roy began to play drums in his brother's band, Joe soon convinced him to pick up the trumpet, but Roy made little effort to gain proficiency on the instrument at first. It was not until the death of their mother, when Roy was eleven, and his father's subsequent remarriage that Roy began practicing more rigorously, locking himself in his room for hours, and particularly honing the instrument's upper register. From an early age, Roy lacked proficiency at sight-reading, a gap in his musical education that would affect him for much of his early career, but he could replicate melodies by ear very effectively.

Read more about this topic:  Roy Eldridge

Famous quotes containing the words early and/or life:

    Today’s pressures on middle-class children to grow up fast begin in early childhood. Chief among them is the pressure for early intellectual attainment, deriving from a changed perception of precocity. Several decades ago precocity was looked upon with great suspicion. The child prodigy, it was thought, turned out to be a neurotic adult; thus the phrase “early ripe, early rot!”
    David Elkind (20th century)

    For the soldier of time, it breathes a summer sleep,

    In which his wound is good because life was.
    No part of him was ever part of death.
    A woman smoothes her forehead with her hand
    And the soldier of time lies calm beneath that stroke.
    Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)