Born in Birmingham, Alabama, on November 28, 1951, Irwin studied classical clarinet at North Texas State before switching to bass. While still in college he began playing with pianist Red Garland, eventually leaving school to move to New York City. His initial gigs there included work with vocalists Betty Carter and Mose Allison, and in ’77 he joined Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. In the mid-’70s he also started playing in a band with guitarist John Scofield and saxophonist Joe Lovano, and he continued performing with both musicians throughout his career. The widely recorded Irwin also backed sax men Stan Getz and Johnny Griffin, pianist Horace Silver, drummers Matt Wilson and Duduka da Fonseca, and trumpeter Chet Baker, among many others. On one Lovano gig bassist John Patitucci played alongside Irwin. “I got to feel firsthand how wonderful his time was, how tasteful, how musical he was,” Patitucci recalled. “He was a terrific musician.”

The Lincoln Center concert included Tony Bennett and Wynton Marsalis as well as bands featuring Ron Carter and Patitucci. Proceeds were to go to Irwin’s medical expenses and to other uninsured musicians through the Jazz Foundation of America (www.jazzfoundation.org).
—Richard Johnston

Dennis Irwin Essentials

With Matt Wilson’s Arts & Crafts
The Scenic Route, Palmetto

With Joe Lovano
On This Day at the Vanguard, Blue Note

With John Scofield (all on Blue Note)
Hand Jive
What We Do
Groove Elation

With the Jazz Messengers
In This Korner, Concord Jazz

Special Web Only Extra: John Patitucci on Dennis Irwin

He was a terrific musician—he started out as a clarinet player. He was one of those rare cases who switched to the bass really late and had a great career. Marc Johnson and [drummer] John Riley, I think, were the guys who convinced him to play the bass—apparently they needed another bass player in one of the bands [at North Texas State]. He was such a great musician that he was able to transcend that late switchover. That’s not an easy thing to do with such a physical instrument as the bass. It takes a lot of musicianship, a lot of talent.

A few years back I was playing, oddly enough, at a benefit to honor my mother-in-law and some other people who had survived cancer. I was down in Roanoke, Virginia, and Lovano’s band was playing at a concert the same night. The promoter said, “Wouldn’t it be nice to support both shows and have you guys play a little bit together.” So Lovano invited me to play at his concert. The band was Dennis Irwin, Otis Brown on drums, and Joe, so I got to play with Dennis. Though bass players admire each other and hear each other play, we rarely get to play together. So I got to feel firsthand how wonderful his time feel was, how tasteful, how musical he was. It was incredible to have somebody like that to play with. When it was time for either one of us to solo, the other would accompany as only a bass player can. That was a big gift to me.

Dennis was always kind of bohemian and flying by the seat of his pants—real freewheeling. One time we played opposite each other at the Panama Jazz Festival that [pianist] Danilo Perez has been doing. We were on the same plane home, and when we got to the Newark airport there was a snowstorm—a lot of snow on the ground. I said, “Do you have a guy picking you up with your bass?” And he said, “No, I’ll just wing it.”

It was one of those airport horror stories. A lot of the baggage handlers had called in sick, so we had to wait three hours for our basses. We finally get out, but, of course—Murphy’s Law—the guy who was supposed to pick me up ran his battery down. I’m a little concerned about Dennis, but he says, “I’m fine.” My guy can’t start his car, there’s a foot of snow on the ground, I have my Gage case—a big honkin’ thing … I was so bummed out. Then I look back in the airport and there’s Dennis still rollin’ around with his bass. So I run in and say to him, “Did you ever hook anything up for yourself?” And he says, “Yeah, I’ve got this guy who has a van.” I say, “Can he fit two of us in there?” And he says, “Sure, let’s go.” So he bailed me out—Mr. Organization. He was just so loose, he didn’t even worry about it. It’s three in the morning at Newark airport—only Dennis could have hooked that up!

He was such great cat and a funny presence. We were both Mose Allison alumni, so we used to trade stories about being with Mose. That was a lot of fun. He could remember all the lyrics to all of the Mose Allison tunes. We used to sing them together, and he knew everything—I couldn’t hang. He knew a lot about a lot of things in life. A really brilliant guy.
—Richard Johnston