On
the Forefront of American Politics; an Interview with Folk Extraordinaire
Jenn Lindsay
Monday,
March 15, 2004
By Marcus
Goodwin
New York is
a funny place sometimes. It's a city driven by style, stark-innovation,
and, almost always, a sincere desire to move swiftly against the
grain. Sometimes it's smack dab in the middle; but mostly, you
have to rummage around to find it. I found one such fem-gem at
a small folk pub in the East Village.
I'm a guy
who doesn't watch much TV but thumbs most every major publication
on a daily basis. What I've come to realize, but not to accept,
is that the extreme right wing of American politics has hijacked
The United States of America. Under the lash of this President,
church and state have quickly returned as the preferred way to
do politics -- but this time -- with an evangelistic twist. Individual
rights, freedom of speech, and the gallant freedoms America once
stood for have been chucked out the window and replaced with the
Jesus of their understanding. It is this authors belief that
the leadership of American has abandon the interests of the American
majority and sold out to corporative special interest groups at
every turn of the screw. In troubled times such as these, and
as history faithfully narrates, the only true Americans left are
the musicians and the artists.
I had a chance
to speak with one such American artist that blew me away upon
my first listen to her new CD, "The Last New York Horn."
Her name is Jenn Lindsay. She's a 23 year old unsigned indie-folk
artist with 3 self produced CDs, a website, and guts enough to
tell it as she sees it. She writes folky-cool songs about laboring
on the fringes of the American dream; her songwriting savvy is
7 or 8 notches above most of what you will hear on commercial
radio. She paid her musical dues both in New York and California.
So to those
of you on the right whom might decide to read this anyway,
I must forewarn you: she dwells in the lower socio-economic domain,
her songs are out-spoken and original, and, sexually speaking,
she swings both ways.
Her music
speak volumes about living-out all of the above.
MG
I gave your new CD "The Last New York Horn" a listen
and really enjoyed it. I may have seen you play once or twice
on the L-Train platform and at the open mic at Sidewalk Café.
But this recording -- it's terrific. And since I don't own any
of your other CDs, lets talk about this one. We're in an election
year, so lets start off with a political question that you raise
on your song "Uncle Sam." It appears to be a not-so-subtle
smack in the face at the establishment, the sensation of being
cut off from the American dream, and a lot of people's loathing
of America's newfound-totalitarian, George W Bush. What's your
motivation behind the song, and do you think Bush Jr. can win
re-election in 2004?
JL
The leading line of the song is really quite literal-"you
can guess where he tried to put his hand," by which I mean
that this is an incredibly audacious and invasive administration.
They've put their hands up our skirts every time they talk about
amending the constitution to mandate discrimination, overturning
Roe V Wade, or jacking our taxes to pay for a war that we were
all clearly against. This has been a very heavy month in the news,
and today as I was performing Uncle Sam at the National Folk Alliance
Conference I definitely connected with the reason I wrote this
song-as I say, "I say it so I don't feel alone, I say it
and I make myself known." I think that's the essence of activism-to
engage yourself in a community of like-minded kindred spirits
so you can remember that all the negativity you are feeling about
our country, and these sinister times, is not your own burden.
And the act of raising your voice and speaking out-making yourself
known-is a key element of feeling like you are taking action,
and being careful not to shortchange yourself of the democratic
process. Even if, in your life, the democratic process consists
of singing the shit out of a political song to a room full of
screaming lesbians. I mean, that's MY life. The prospect of George
W winning this election is too horrifying to give any energy to
right now. I'll probably be actively campaigning for whoever the
Dem nominee is [Kerry], even though campaigning in the coastal
regions is far less effective-and less urgent-than doing compassionate
campaigning in Middle America. Or as my friend calls it, "the
flyover."
MG
Where did you grow up?
JL
Although I was born in Amarillo TX I spent my sentient childhood
and teen years in San Diego, CA. I joke that my parents did me
a disservice by raising me in such a temperate climate, because
I suffer so much with any suggestion of precipitation. But since
coming back to San Diego at the end of my national tour in the
fall, and staying here for a few months, my attitude has really
changed. I guess I've learned that home is where my buddies are,
and right now, that's NYC. Even though it would be nice if there
were palm trees in NYC.
MG
On "White Room and Cedar Trees," I'm reminded of the
early girlish-works of Liz Phair in sound, but the gut wrenching
disenchantment and keen insight of Dylan in lyric. Do you think
everyone has a place in this life? Or are most of us just doomed
to rough it till the day we die?
JL
That's the question du jour for me. I'm at a big crossroads, waiting
for some generous sign to point me thataway, even though I've
been trudging thisaway for a few years. I've got mud in my eyes
right now, and my heart needs a paint job. I tend to think that
other people are doing better than they are; I mean, I always
think that other people are doing better than I am doing. I get
really caught up in suspecting that all of my big breaks have
been mixed bags. Right now I think that the School of "Be
Here Now" had something to it; my life has not exactly been
a pageant of realized desires, but the force of my desire and
my adherence to personal goals has pretty much made me really
unhappy. The way I want, I want things like they are the answer;
like they are the missing piece; and that's what's eating me up.
Maybe growing up is learning how not to want things so badly,
or as Bill Murray says in "Lost in Translation," that
as you get older you know yourself better and things bother you
less. I also think that "School of Rock" had something
to it. Let's melt some faces, man, with our big rock n roll.
I've had one big break, a 24 karat pure big break, and that was
meeting my sweetheart. I'm lucky in love.
MG
"Sidewalk Song -- Beauty Queen" Obvious references to
Sidewalk Café and the path of public discovery so many
musicians embark on, but so few ever achieve. There are a lot
egos wrestling in the New York City underground circuit, trying
to climb all over each other, that it makes it hard some times
to go out and enjoy it all. It's like the crab in the pot theory
-- artists scrambling so hard to get out that they crush each
other in the process. However, you appear to have made a lot of
fans and friends. Besides being very talented, why do you think
they took to you?
JL
I think that people tend to connect to my music because it's very
sincere, and it's not godly or alienating. I love Regina Spektor's
music, and she's been a huge influence, but sometimes I hear her
stuff and I feel very very all alone, and that can be terribly
discouraging. With that in mind I try to be inclusive and thoughtful
of my audience's perspective but also really tell my own story.
But my story is just like everyone's story; we've all (literally
or figuratively) been at Columbus Circle at 2am with not enough
money on the MetroCard and thought, what would it be like to sleep
the night in Central Park? What if I turned a trick to get money
for a cab? God I'm hungry. Do I have any fucking crackers in my
bag? I also try not to write music that I wouldn't want to hear.
For instance, I hate when people insult themselves in their own
music; I think music is for feeling stronger, for finding comfort,
for burning off rage at other people. But if you write a song
about how much you suck and you sing it over and over and over
again, that's gonna break down in terrible ways in your psyche.
And I feel bad enough about myself, enough of the time, that I
don't wanna hear the same thing from someone else. I want to hear
how other people think and feel their way AROUND those emotions.
I want music to be instructive, not destructive. Anyway, I try
to be funny and interesting and not too insular. We're all concerned
about bill collectors and wintertime, so that's what I sing about.
MG
Lets talk about the song "Jill & Jill" and your
work as a songwriter-activist for women's issues. Are girls really
better than boys?
JL
Of course not, dude. I never said that. We're talking equality,
remember?
With respect to my interest in and work with women, I also think
that there are a lot of struggles, experiences, and issues particular
to womanhood that motivate me more than any other aspect of my
perspective. That doesn't mean that I am a gender segregationist;
but it does mean that I understand the segregationist urge. I
was the only queer person I knew for a very very long time and
that sensation of being marginalized, even invisibly, provoked
my urge to build communities that welcome and de-marginalize people.
Because I've had some pretty shady lame experiences that have
certainly influenced my predilection for women, I also feel behooved
to build on those experiences and use my abilities as a writer,
performer, and organizer to create a safe place for other ladies.
Inasmuch as I am interested in and devoted to social change, I
think I have a stronger interest in building safe communities.
I'm lucky in that, being a woman, it's more permissible for me
to discuss sexual violence, sleeping with girls, and feeling wary
of creepy dudes in an intimate context. And I can't tell you how
utterly utterly cool it is for me to get up on a stage and yowl
about being a disgruntled single person, or a happy queer person,
or a disenfranchised American, and to have people say Yes! That's
my story too! Thank you! That's why I'm doing this crazy stuff.
MG
Ok, here's a trivial question. What comes first, the words or
the music?
JL
For me, almost always the words. Music is tough for me. Sometimes
I wish I was a spoken word artist, but then I remember: I hate
spoken word.
MG
It takes a lot of guts to keep on playing despite financial difficulties
and/or trying to get the attention of record executives who sell
images rather than content -- and stand clear of political controversy
at all costs. Your music might be considered controversial by
mainstream America. What would you like to say to them?
JL
I say fuck them, that's why there's Ladyfest. My parents think
my music is too controversial, and all I can say is, "Well,
it's not for you." I've played a few big industry deals in
NYC, like the BMI Acoustic Roundup and the NYC Songwriter's Circle
and people always respond to my music like they've never heard
anyone tell the truth before. What the hell have they been listening
to, right? What I do know is that if I am in front of a huge audience
I can win them over (as long as I am not opening for Metallica
and the fans are throwing beer bottles at me). Good music is good
music is good music, and I believe a good performer can get that
across to an audience. My song content may be strong at times,
but good songwriting comes first, and that's why it's compelling.
Not just because I'm singing about girls and boys and money. But
because the songs are well-written, and hopefully well-delivered.
I'm not singing to mainstream America, and inasmuch as I get sad
and frustrated that I am so poor and I have this fantastic album
that no one is hearing, I also know that I am not getting eviscerated
by a major label deal that is thinking only of recoupable funds
and marketing strategy. I would like to keep my music free from
kissing ass, and if that means that it has to be a hobby and I'll
get to work for the Human Rights Campaign as a web designer and
play music on the weekends, so be it. Thanks to Pro-tools I'll
be making great albums for free in my apartment till the day I
die.
MG
I'm a psychic, so I must ask the obvious question: what's your
sign?
JL
Libra. Doesn't mean a damn thing to me except I read my horoscope
when I come across it.
MG
What's more important: financial success or integrity? Is it possible
to have both?
JL
If you look at the indie music patron saints like Fugazi and Ani
Difranco, or indies that signed to majors under condition of artistic
freedom, like Sonic Youth and Radiohead, you'll see it's possible
to achieve both. But I think that things have really changed for
the indie music industry in the last ten years, and it's become
very commodified and homogenized. There are too many books about
how to make it big, and everyone's reading them. That means the
market is clogged, and there are 600 folksingers showcasing at
the Folk Alliance Conference, and everybody's posters and handbills
and press kits and album covers look the same, and everybody is
being uberprofessional and ambitious and visionary. It means that
every club booker is irascible and grumpy, because they get bugged
by lame bands calling and saying "me me me" every five
minutes. That's why I don't think that there will be any more
major stars out of indie rock for a while, because everything
is so structured that there's no room for ingenuity and market
captivation. It's feast or famine out there right now, and someone
like me has to decide whether driving 7 hours in the rain everyday
when you don't know if anyone will be at your show is worth dropping
a few years on. It's harrowing. All we're running on right now
is self-belief. It's certainly not very pragmatic. But then again,
pragmatism is not the stuff of dreams.
MG
I heard you are living in San Diego pursuing graduate school.
Does the "The Last New York Horn" symbolize your permanent
departure from New York? Or do you see this as a temporary thing?
JL
Temporary. I had a goal in life to miss the winter, and not only
did I miss the winter, but I missed my best friends, and my sweetheart,
and my sense of self. I came out here to apply to grad school-the
pragmatist rears her head-but will be nationally touring again
in May, to end up in NYC and resettle there (unless I go to school
in Boston). I decided to apply for some biz and public policy
programs so I can learn how to fundraise and manage and get some
cool contacts.
MG
The year is 2070. We're old and gray -- maybe even dead. A 16
year old girl finds a picture of you, and it's the happiest picture
she has ever laid eyes on. It's the real you. And she aspires
to be just like the girl in the picture. What would you be doing
in that picture?
JL
The picture you speak of is on my web page, http://www.jennlindsay.com,
on the bio ("breath") page. I believe it's the first
pic, the black and white pic of me singing in a mic at the CD
Release show for Gotta Lotta.

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