Scotland’s Long Fin Killie are a strange lot. Formed in 1991 in a church out in the boonies between Perth and Dundee, their debut Houdini sounds like a drunken confrontation between British band James and traditional folkies Steeleye Span. It’s one of those tense moments when you don’t know if the room is about to explode into a brawl, or if it’s just the homoerotic tension and they really just want to shag. Long Fin Killie does both, and at times it can get a bit heavy handed, the stylistic extremes not quite blending. Named after Amelia Erhardt, the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic, their third full length achieves that balance. Long Fin Killie have succeeded in avoiding being pigeonholed into any particular category. Unfortunately they may have resulted in their unique style being ignored. It’s time to take notice. The production is the one thing they have in common with Too Pure labelmates Pram, Laika and Jack. It lends a consistently sensual satin sheen to songs that threaten to boil over with seething anger, or build up into blissful, propulsive reverie, or others that simmer under a rainfall of busy percussion. At times they recall the jazzy and African rhythms of The Sea And Cake, especially when Luke Sutherland croons in soft-spoken, nearly whispered vocals very similar to Sam Prekop’s. If you like any of the aforementioned artists, or are simply ready to go out on the limb and try something new, this is highly recommended.
November 10, 1997 by A.S. Van Dorston
