Three songs into The Last New York Horn, Jenn Lindsay commits heresy. You won't notice, of course, unless you heard her last full-length, Gotta Lotta, and are aware that she's a part of New York City's Antifolk scene. Even so, right in the middle of "Dry Heat", Lindsay delivers lines you wouldn't expect to come from her, of all people: "It's very clear where I wanna be / Ooh, sugar, out of New York City", after which she explains why she's decamping to California. For someone whose best song, "I Am Not Going Home Yet", was about being a New Yorker dealing with 9/11, it doesn't seem to bode well for the success of her new album. Of course, being the intelligent, erudite folkie that she is, Lindsay goes on to show that while her geographic space may have changed, she hasn't lost her ability to comment on whatever is going on around her -- or, as is the case in many of the songs here, what's going on inside her head. So what does that mean she sings about? Topics as varied as you'd expect from someone who sings "Gotta lotta voices in my little head" (as Lindsay does in opener "White Room"). There's politics, both in the Bush-bashing sense ("Uncle Sam", with the lines "Alone in a room with Uncle Sam / You can guess where he tried to put his hand / And I said, 'Screw you Uncle Sam!! You're a dirty old man!'") and in the more personal sense ("Beauty Queen", in which Lindsay sings of the need for protest singers). There's sexual identity (the gender questioning of "Jill + Jill"). There are songs about wanting to leave ("Close"), and songs about feeling dislocated ("Califorlornia" and "The Question Changed", the latter featuring the beautiful opening lines, "I walk in this city, I thought this city would be my friend / It hasn't failed me yet, but I failed it again and again"). There's even a song about Lindsay's dog (the appropriately-named "Doggy"). As with Gotta Lotta, one song here stands above the others -- in this case, album-closer "Story". Much like "I Am Not Going Home Yet", it's long and rambling...but Lindsay is one of those rare artists whose ramblings make good lyrics. The song follows the arc of a relationship from beginning to peak ("When I sang I sang about your body cuz it's the one thing I understand") to the first sign of trouble ("You an I are so different / Mission drama and mission control") to end, showing that Lindsay's musical palette (essentially just voice and guitar) has little bearing on the scope of her lyrical ambition. Whether Lindsay's move to California (if, in fact, she's still there -- her website makes no mention of where she currently resides) will have any effect on this ambition remains to be seen -- after all, the West Coast is hardly known as a place of deep introspection. Nonetheless, based on the strength of The Last New York Horn, if anyone can stay true to an artistic vision, Jenn Lindsay can.

If she doesn’t watch out, Jenn Lindsay could get pretty big. She’s a challenging artist who, after a few years and a couple of albums and EP’s has achieved that magic balance between undiluted personal politics and a sound so appealing that a general audience will dig it. Last New York Horn is a terrific record of catchy, inventive melodies, spare, gutsy arrangements and beguiling singing . . . and lyrics that are scary as you want them to be. Lindsay packs’em in at the small clubs that cater to “queer-themed” music, but her album has only a cut or two that is overtly gay (“Jill + Jill”), and the rest have messages that have general human applications. Her core audience gets what it wants from the live recording “Close,” but everybody else gets an intense acoustic rocker about the scary feelings everyone has as a relationship is about to turn an important corner. Her snarling political manifesto, “Uncle Sam,” uses some startling sexual metaphors, but again, Lindsay’s views are inclusive rather than exclusive. Her achievement, then, is that which has sold millions for the Indigo Girls. If anything, Jenn Lindsay is more interesting and versatile than that duo, handling most of the instruments herself with the expertise and aplomb of one who has served a big league apprenticeship in SF and NY, hitting the stage all alone. Last New York Horn is nearly an all-solo effort, but for some electric guitar and drum flavorings here and there by Nan Turner and Casey Holford. This is a CD to get! (Tom Petersen)

I went to the Fringe Festival tonight. It was so great. Jenn Lindsey was there. She is this amazingly talented folk singer. She blew me away with her beautiful music. I got her autograph. It was so hilarious because I walked up to her and I said loudly "You're so great". She wrote, "You filled my gas tank" on my liner. I thought it was quite cute. You should know. Yeah, I think this CD is so good. Jenn Lindsay - "The Last New York Horn".

The Last New York Horn is the fifth release from anti-folk singer and songwriter Jenn Lindsay. It’s an intimate, highly personal affair, featuring reflections on her own life, national politics, and as hinted in the title, New York City. The album mostly features acoustic instrumentation and gives center stage to the singing and lyrics. Lindsay’s voice is strong and pleasant and at times she demonstrates remarkable control. Her vocal flourishes provide the highlights of some songs, but her singing is never overdone or distracting. I found her vocals to be very engaging, and her obvious accomplishment is a big part of what makes this album an effortlessly enjoyable listen. Lyrically, the album is introverted to a fault. The songs all, to a greater or lesser degree, revolve around Lindsay’s life, and this is both a strength and weakness for the album. While songs like “Jill + Jill,” an account of Lindsay’s exploration of her homosexuality, are interesting and affecting, others, like “Doggy,” yes, about dogs, tried my patience a little. The best tracks on this album feature enough wit to make the heaviest subject matter easy to approach, but others, like the aforementioned “Doggy,” strangely seem to approach their subject all too earnestly, as when Lindsay sings, “do not leave your doggy alone/do not leave your dog alone at your home.” My sense of the album is that Lindsay will either win you over with her insight, well-expressed emotion, and bare-all approach to writing or she won’t, either making songs like “Doggy” charming and forgettable or else fatally irritating. I think most people who are open to singer-songwriter acoustic music will fall in the former group, as I did and find this to be a good disc overall. It certainly helps that the music is very well crafted and almost never feels like an afterthought to the lyrics, an all-too-common pitfall in this genre of music. She succeeds in evoking a variety of moods while varying the tone, rhythm, and instrumentation from track to track. The production is quite sympathetic, balancing the various instruments against Lindsay’s voice well. This is a very enjoyable and easy listen. Lindsay is a talented and engaging singer, and The Last New York Horn is a good bet for those looking for personal and emotional acoustic rock music. (Review by Chris Sherman)