The Last Dinner Party at LiveHouse

By Katlyn Mortimer

My copy of DORK magazine from December 2022 features a two-page spread in its back end where The Last Dinner Party – at the time just ‘The Dinner Party’ – were called “a phenomenon-in-waiting.” Just a few years ago, the quintet were playing gigs across London pubs and small music venues with only live recordings of their originals on YouTube to appease their growing fanbase, and still were being hailed as “ones to watch” by almost every UK music publication. Now, three years later, the same publications claim their sophomore release From The Pyre has cemented their status in the biggest leagues of British music.

Following on from their debut, Prelude to Ecstasy, which was nominated for the prestigious Mercury Prize and earned them a couple of Brit Awards, their latest LP delves deeper into the world of glitzy piano and haunting harmonies, with a slight darkness ornamenting each track.

The album was released on October 17th, with the band then embarking on a record store tour where they played the album in its entirety for fans up and down the country. On the eve of Wednesday 22nd October, they took the stage at Dundee’s freshly renovated LiveHouse; its main hall aglow with red stage lights and a matching neon sign which read ‘From The Pyre’ – the same as featured on the album cover.

The band took the stage shortly after 8pm (and a mildly painstaking wait soundtracked only by choir music and Gregorian chants), and played the album front to back, opening with ‘Agnus Dei’ – Latin for ‘lamb of god’. Out-of-touch private schooler allegations aside, the band are sticking with their Catholic-chic, baroque, “my favourite snack is figs and honey with anchovies” aesthetic, which has evidently earned them a fan base keen to dress up in Victorian slip dresses and corsets from Amazon. The opening track features vocal inflections from lead singer Abigail Morris that are reminiscent of Sparks’ ‘This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us’ (which the band covered on their last tour).

They immediately dove into the second track on the album, and fourth single ‘Count the Ways’, which has one of the most addictive pre-choruses on the album, made all the more powerful by Morris’ commanding vocals. During the performance, the frontwoman delivered the song almost scornfully as she slumped over the mic centre-stage, while her bandmates took delight in playing the driving melody on their respective instruments. The song describes the agony of moving on from a past relationship; “The days don’t get easier / the gaps just get bigger”, and “If you twist the knife right, I will twist the knife left […] screw it, screw it!” -- the song feels like toeing the line of post-breakup insanity.

Highlights from the album include ‘Second Best’ – a song that bursts with energy; beginning with a theatrical A Capella harmony from the whole band, before a foot-to-the-floor switch which saw Morris once again pacing across the stage, pausing for dramatic effect, and stretching vocals from top to bottom of her range. Both ‘Second Best’ and ‘This is the Killer Speaking’ were included in the band’s touring setlist since last summer, and each track has been tweaked slightly over time. The latter features one of the most jubilant choruses on the album; a series of “aahs” before Morris yells “here comes the killer”. Being the final song of the evening and having been available on streaming platforms for the longest, it gained the most noticeable crowd reaction with a few jumps and uptake in singalong volume.

In contrast to their debut, which featured only a few choral moments, their latest doesn’t hold back on vocals. ‘Rifle’ sees guitarist Lizzie Mayland taking the lead, before another breathtaking bridge sang in tandem (and in French) with Morris as the pair stand centre-stage, facing one another. The track bears thematic similarities to Black Sabbath’s ‘War Pigs’, with pointed lines such as “Boots and rifles / Are stained with red.” The song’s political lyrics comes as no surprise as the band has been very vocal about the Palestinian genocide during their festival shows this summer, even pulling out of the Victorious Festival in Portsmouth after the organiser’s censorship of another act.

Other stand outs from the performance included ‘Woman is a Tree”, in which the group began the eerie vocal harmony stood in a semi-circle. Their ability to keep pace with one another for the lengthy string of “aahs” at different volumes and pitches earned an extended applause. Similarly, ‘Sail Away’, a piano ballad sung by Morris closed with a cascading harmony that gained pace and force before being snuffed out like a flame.

Although, my favourite track on the record is undoubtedly ‘The Scythe’. It opens softly before building to a chorus that is a bittersweet goodbye – “Don’t cry, we’re bound together / Each life runs its course / I’ll see you in the next one / Next time I know you’ll call”. Written following the death of the frontwoman’s father, the lyrics of the song compare the conclusion of a relationship to death itself. During the performance, Morris descended to the barricade to get closer to fans, before returning to the stage laden with flowers and gifts. Guitarist Emily Roberts delivers the most addictive solo on the record, akin to the euphoric conclusion on their biggest hit to date ‘Nothing Matters’.

The record delivers lyrically, as well as seeing the band wade deeper into the waters of what they already know. But with more complicated harmonies and string compositions, as well as a few vocal moments where Morris takes a back seat to let a bandmate take the lead, their LiveHouse performance surely brought what they had envisioned for the album to life. Being so set in their aesthetics and “baroque-n-roll” sound could result in their sophomore record falling short, and becoming an overplayed repetition of their new wave, cultish, Victorian schtick, and ultimately failing to demonstrate any growth since their first. But The Last Dinner Party know who they are, and have cultivated a musical world that their first album now appears to have only just scratched the surface of. Perhaps From The Pyre alludes to the ashes from which something truly special is arising.