When I first met Larry, I immediately fell in love with his vaulted ceiling adorned with an art deco stained-glass skylight, and elongated, geometric pendant lights hanging below like drippy earrings weighing down an eccentric aunt’s lobe. I got lost in the eclectic mix of art on his walls that pays homage to the building's history and location, right next to the Aragon Ballroom. I sank into the comfortable, mid-century-esque furniture that invites you to have a winding conversation and stay for a while. Mostly, I loved the way it still feels like a hotel lobby.

Larry’s is a bar tucked into the lobby of Lawrence House, a converted apartment building that, in 1928, was a thriving hotel by the same name. The apartment building lobby has kept its hotel roots, and as someone who seldom hangs out in hotel lobbies, I find it very chic and charming. The revolving doors spin you out to face the front desk, where instead of checking in, you might ask for directions to the bathroom. Behind the desk is a long, communal table where tenants might be working, or bar goers might be sipping. Toward the back is a bank of elevators to the residences, and a door that leads to a sprawling outdoor patio, boasting events and movie nights in the summer.

Larry’s is no more than the size of a studio apartment. The walls are littered with art—taxidermy, vintage maps, pressed flowers—and it’s all cast under the red glow of a dramatic, cylindrical pendant that floats over the bar. The patrons are tenants, neighbors, and sometimes concertgoers stopping in for a drink before the show – although there is seldom street-facing signage, so if you know, you know. The patrons are also accompanied by me, and whoever is lucky enough to be on a first date with me, because Larry’s is always the bar I suggest if the location is my choice. If the date is bad, which it almost always is, at least I’m at my favorite bar. 

The thing I noticed most about Larry’s was the music. In 2021, I distinctly and fondly remember hearing “Shark Smile” by Big Thief playing overheard while I sipped something moody and tequila-based. I interrupted my friend mid-conversation so we could soak in the song.

It came over her at a bad time

Riding through Winona down the dotted line

I discovered Big Thief through an old co-worker, Rose, who off-handedly recommended them to me in 2019 when we both worked at Jin Ju, a Korean restaurant in Andersonville. Little did she know I would listen to their beloved, sad "Shark Smile" on repeat 50 more times that week, and see them perform twice in one year, one of those times being at the Riviera down the street.

Hearing your favorite song play at a bar is a special kind of magic. At once, you feel connected to a place and the person behind the bar. It’s both grounding and uplifting, and if you’re with a friend or on a date, you can cut them off to accurately ID the song and feel really cool. 

At the beginning of my relationship with Larry’s, Eliza Walker was at the helm of the bar.

“I love the theatre of it,” Eliza told me over the phone when describing the aspects of bartending she most enjoys. “Nothing makes me happier than someone who’s [at the bar for the first time], and they try new things. Or when people are like, ‘Oh, I love your music.’ It’s like we’re all legitimately connecting and reflecting off each other,” Eliza said. “I get so much from that, and feelings of purpose as well.”

Eliza is an artist who went to school for comics and sequential art, such as storyboarding. She’s also a bookmaker, tattoo artist, illustrator, and painter. 

“I found a connection between art and bartending in terms of how to connect with people,” Eliza said. After college, Eliza moved to China and found a manga book called Bartender about, as she describes it, “A magical old person who gives people sound advice and can help people through the cocktails he makes.” As someone who struggled to connect with and talk to people, the book inspired Eliza to start bartending upon moving back to the States.

“I thought bartending could be a way for me to connect with people through merriment and enjoyment,” she said. “The idea of being in a bar and huddling together for that kind of emotional nourishment was really appealing for me.”

When describing Larry’s, Eliza noted how there is an “airport energy” to it, and I agree. It’s tucked away from the world, and you feel like you’re in a liminal space, suspended from reality. Perhaps the best bars make you feel that way.

“[The music I played] really played into that displacement,” Eliza said, describing the neon lights and wood paneling at Larry’s as “Southern gothic.”

Punk, post-punk, honky-tonk, and sad girl rock are some of the genres Eliza favored behind the bar. Artists like Julia Jacklin, Mannequin Pussy, Tropical Fuck Storm, and Protomartyr rang through the speakers as she served Uptown.

“I haven’t played them in a bar yet, but I can’t wait,” Eliza said, gushing over Lambrini Girls, a British punk duo whose number one song on Spotify is “Cuntology 101” and who note that Banksy is their drummer (he’s not). Kind of says everything you need to know.

Music has always influenced Eliza’s life and art. At her first bussing job, she experienced high levels of anxiety every day before work. To combat this, she would go to the cafe across the street before her shift, down a bunch of coffee, and listen to Death Grips while illustrating. The act felt like a stream of consciousness, a release.

“A lot of my inspiration for art therapy comes from that [time],” Eliza said, articulating the experience at the now closed Caffe Streets in Wicker Park. “[My drawings] were coming straight from the brain, and Death Grips was sort of like the war drums to push that through.”

Music was Eliza’s first comfort, so it goes to show that music is such an important element to a bar that she’s tending. The impetus for her to become a bartender was to connect with people and make them feel good, and in doing so, she felt good, too. 

Eliza has worked at several bars throughout Chicago, including Bangers and Lace and King of Cups. She took a break two years ago, but plans on getting back behind the bar in the spring, as well as going back to school for art therapy.

“I miss the communal element, for sure,” she said. “I miss the muscle memory. I miss the chaos. I miss creating an experience for someone.”

Eliza's Top Five Last Call Songs

1. "Not Today" by Molly Burch

2. "Release Me" by Ray Price

3. "Parade" by The Antlers

4. "Eternal Flame" by The Bangles

5. "My Town" by Iris Dement