Reviewer: Entertainment Today, Adam McKibbin,

There is something deliciously earnest, almost childlike, about “Doggy,” a stop-start song on piano that appears about halfway through Jenn Lindsay’s fifth album. “You’re so lucky your superintendent even lets you have a dog,” Lindsay sings, and the listener can take this at face value. But “Doggy” also touches upon the dominant themes in Lindsay’s songs: fighting against the blind cruelties of the world and fighting for a shot at storybook romance. As a young veteran in NYC’s underground folk scene, Lindsay’s best songs are empowering battle hymns for society’s perpetually downtrodden. Her unflinching lyrics are always a strength; she has perceptive and sympathetic eyes. She doesn’t spare herself from her razor gaze, but she recognizes the greater enemies (Dubya, I’m lookin’ in your direction). Other songs show that she realizes that even activists should find time to fall in love and be sexy and silly. Sometimes, however, she gets a little too precious, like when she sings about Jill and Jill coming down the hill or when she wistfully sings of “Califorlornia” (famous for our Californication?). And occasionally she is distracted by folk songs celebrating the unrecognized struggle/importance/dedication of folk singers (“Beauty Queen,” “Sidewalk Song”). On The Last New York Horn, surprisingly, it’s the varied instrumentation and melodic arrangements—rather than the words—that linger longest (“Cedar Trees,” “Winter”). But, in an election year, there is one line that rings loudest of all: “It’s your beat-up, bullied, bamboozled nation. It’s your people. And you should listen.”