The Last Dinner Party - From The Pyre Review

The Last Dinner Party trade grandeur for grit on From The Pyre, a darkly theatrical second act that finds power in chaos and communion.

In a recent interview, The Last Dinner Party concluded that the optimal listening conditions for their second album would be atop a mountain with a record player and glass of wine in tow. Clearly, the London art-rockers have retained their penchant for the pretentious, but in From The Pyre, the drama is grounded in something more elemental and raw. 

Their first record, Prelude to Ecstasy, was nothing short of spectacular, with huge guitar solos, thumping percussion and vocal flourishes aplenty. This sonic grandiosity matched its overwhelming reception: the album debuted at number one on the UK Albums Chart, was Mercury Prize nominated and has bagged the band two Brit Awards. 

Rest assured, theatricality still abounds in From The Pyre – lyrics invoke killer cowboys, blazing infernos and luminaries from Joan of Arc to Jesus – but there is a darker, moodier atmosphere and a powerful sense of space. If Prelude to Ecstasy gave us a seat at The Last Dinner Party’s opulent table, From The Pyre turns our gaze to the sublime landscape outside. 

This is a band who delight in the drama, as lead vocalist Abigail Morris declares in the wry opening track ‘Agnus Dei’, “Here comes the apocalypse / And I can’t get enough of it”. Meanwhile, ‘This Is The Killer Speaking’ proves that the best way to get over being ghosted is, of course, to write an amped-up murder ballad, complete with a stomping singalong chorus. 

While the band’s confidence has been lauded since their inception, From The Pyre possesses a sharper conviction as they venture into new territory: the vast, fantastical scenery depicted in the album’s cover art. Midway through the record, ‘Rifle’ oscillates between sparse instrumentals and harmonised primal cries, complementing the rousing vocals on ‘Woman Is A Tree’ akin to medieval chants that wouldn’t be out of place in a folk horror film à la Wicker Man. Following suit, ‘I Hold Your Anger’ recalls a nightmare about having to tell someone their severed arm won’t grow back, evoking a striking sense of fortitude. 

Resisting the potential pressure of the sophomore album, The Last Dinner Party grant themselves full permission to explore, experiment and expand. The chamber pop-meets-art rock anthem ‘Second Best’ has been on a particularly transformative journey: penned by lead guitarist Emily Roberts, it has graced setlists in various forms since its first live performance in 2023. Now, the opening harmonies are brighter and richer, sumptuously choral, while the guitar-driven descent is decidedly more brooding. 

‘Count The Ways’ begins with similarly jagged guitars as Roberts, guitarist Lizzie Mayland and bassist Georgia Davies concoct a gritty backdrop for Morris’ dynamic falsetto. Later on, ‘The Scythe’ captures both the inevitability of death and the impermanence of loss – “Each life runs its course / I’ll see you in the next one” – as delicate flute and violins meet another formidable Roberts guitar solo for peak catharsis. And yet the quintet prove they also know when to dial down their maximalist tendencies; ‘Sail Away’ is a wistful ballad featuring equally tender lyricism as Aurora Nishevci’s intricate piano melodies take the reins.

Across the record, ambition is in no short supply – both technically, as angelic vocal arrangements swell over elaborate guitars, and thematically, as The Last Dinner Party harness the mythical and the magical to convey personal stories of love and loss. It’s fitting then, that the album’s titular pyre is not only a source of destruction but of renewal, as seemingly abstract tales of lambs, angels and witches become vessels for processing personal experiences: neither style nor substance are lacking. 

In fact, it seems the band’s whirlwind journey thus far is ultimately a source of deep fulfilment despite, or perhaps because of, its intensity – as Morris admits in the jazzy, bittersweet closer Inferno, “I do this for my health / Breathing the dust of an inferno”. The dazzling five-part harmonies binding the record together affirm that The Last Dinner Party are finely tuned to one another, navigating the allegorical fables of ‘The Pyre’ as a fiercely united front.