Lindsay Fuller’s second album is a hammer. The natural pounding of this Alabama girl’s rhythm stands out in front of these songs like Southern shape note singing with her band in place of a choir. Her voice, a cotton mouthed, warbling beauty, somewhere between a mother’s kitchen song and a Leonard Cohen field holler. The songs tumble one after the other, building a picture of the disenfranchised, the accidental sinners and the dark places they dwell. This is a tough album, heavy with American archetypes, a straight line stretched taunt between it and the ragged heart of James Dean. This is a tender album, that burns with lines like “I cannot keep my lips from your cup”. I hear primal urges and mislaid justice, the momentary wish for an innocence lost, but all of that simply underpins an overused and scarred heart. My mother once told me, scars aren’t good or bad, they just make you who you are.”The Last Light I See” is an arresting album from a young and exceptional songwriter who doesn’t always feel the need to clean beneath her nails or cover her scars.
Post script ~ Her band, they’re fantastic.