Larry Hirshberg: Press

Review of "Ice at Home"

"From the Harry Nilsson-esque “Steam Locomotive” to the Chuck Berry chug of “Perfect Girl,” these 13 original songs are presented in an unvarnished, warts-and-all style that highlights the harmonies and varied picking styles. But it's Hirshberg's raw, nasally bray that ties it all together. He's no crooner, but then, neither are John Prine or Bob Dylan, right? The near lack of reverb or processing on his voice gives it a vulnerable, yet unapologetic quality. This refusal to sand down the rough edges or ingratiate himself to the listener also comes through in some of the lyrics, such as on “The Rider” when he sings, “She tries hard to make her own luck / Baby needs someone who (exhibits a level of interest).”

Another standout track is “Calendar Blues,” a hillbilly vaudeville polka that hilariously recounts a marriage gone bad from the first date all the way to “that day in court (when) I told the judge ‘I don't.' ” At just over two minutes, it's the shortest song on the album, but also the most fun. Hmm. Larry, let me give you my analyst's number.

The best song on the CD is “209.1 FM.” Inspired, no doubt, by Larry's long-running DJ gig at KBGA, this sad little waltz hangs on the framework of Sporman's gloomy bass notes like tattered laundry in the backyard of a shack under the airport's flight line. The melancholy, late-night feel of the music perfectly supports Hirshberg's duet with himself, as he sings of “wide awake disjointed beats.” Obtuse writing is Hirshberg's specialty, and he seems loath to spell out anything too clearly for the listener. Still, when the music's this good, I don't care if he's singing about a recipe for potato latkes - I'm dancing, baby."

Larry Hirshberg tells supple stories in the limited spaces allotted by songs just a few minutes long. While not every line drips with the promise of platinum sales, his solo acoustic effort Ice at Home features some genuine gems.

The title track scores with wordplay centered on an engagement ring left behind. The chorus begins “His baby left the ice at home / Maybe the boys will think she’s all alone”—just enough information to put an image in listeners’ heads and enough indirection to make it interesting, all laid out to a memorable melody. The song stays on the folksy side of an album that blends in considerable blues such as the saloon-style “Calendar Blues,” an uplifting tune about the rhetoric and reality of love.

Hirshberg’s skill with the guitar is considerable...

Review of The Trillionaires' disc, Honeycomb Conjecture - "The honeycomb conjecture posits that a hexagonal grid represents the most efficient way to divide a surface into regions of equal area with the least total perimeter. Which means, of course, it holds the most honey. The Trillionaires’ debut album, Honeycomb Conjecture, seems to maximize space with a similar theory.

Travis Yost strategically unleashes smart drum fills into every nook and cranny while Tyson Roth keeps the bass lines simple but interesting. The latter is especially evident in “Birds of Paradise,” wherein Roth executes climbing and descending scales with snappy vigor. The album is not overproduced, which makes it all the more charming, and though it’s a basic three-piece rock record, the composition is refreshing and the lyrics sharp.

Larry Hirshberg’s vocals have the frank casualness of Tom Petty, and in new-wave songs like “Someone Specific,” he brings a conversational tone that evokes the coolness of David Byrne. “Public Restroom” is one of the album’s catchier creations, with a reggae-influenced riff and the gem line: “Public restroom has afforded me the clearest view/of the world so far.”

A bee’s design captures honey in a uniform grid, but locals The Trillionaires have fashioned an album with strong, diverse tunes that hold just as much substance. "

Review of Packing For Nowhere - Nowhere is a place where the sound of pounding hooves and jazz drum rolls intersect narrations about moths and Tasty Cakes—a twilight zone populated with a dream-like concoction of familiar images and unfamiliar sounds. At least that’s the nowhere of Larry Hirshberg’s new album Packing for Nowhere, an experimental collage of noise and spoken word.

...The album reveals streaks of the dark creepiness of a David Lynch film: in “The Pine Hen,” chord progressions fade in and out like a distorted music box while a woman methodically lists types of hens. In “Packing for Norway,” Hirshberg’s neurotic repetition of “Can you tell I’m nervous?” is countered by a tempered hi-hat and the strange sound of rattling seeds. Or is that oil sizzling in a pan? The clarity of (and indulgence in) sound provides a study in perception. It’s an intriguing album with rich textures that provide something—and somewhere—new.