The Last Dinner Party – From The Pyre

Baroque Pop | Indie Rock | Art Rock

79%

 

Right on the heels of last year’s acclaimed debut album Prelude To Ecstasy, Britain’s most hyped new band The Last Dinner Party have decided to strike while the iron’s still hot. Their sophomore outing arriving so soon after the first, no doubt written and recorded in the midst of a hectic touring schedule to boot, doesn’t leave a lot of time for the band to grow and experiment. Thankfully they already arrived on the scene pretty fully formed, needing little more than a bit of fine tuning. They already boast a well earned aura of confidence and a well defined identity, one that scratches a particular stylistic itch that few other acts have been able to tap into. The band’s opulent ambitions were constructed with such an impressive degree of precision and polish that it already sounds like they’ve been at this for years. 

Having set such a firm foundation, From The Pyre could easily have been a batch of hastily packaged B sides, fired out into the world to keep the momentum going. However, that’s not the case. I’m pleasantly surprised by how much refinement of their sound has occurred here in such a short space of time. The band have had their costume drama aesthetic down to a tee since day one, but you can really feel the drama side of the equation start to come into play. There’s a lot more personality and humanity put into the lyrics, more of a story to tell beneath all the flashy theatrics. The record packs in so much yearning and heartache, able to flit between lustful double entendres and moments of bittersweet introspection (“Was that enough, To make you come? Am I enough, To make you stay?” on ‘Agnus Dei’). 

The instrumental improvements are a tad more subtle, but their fingerprints are all over the record. They sound even more slick and refined. The hairpin turns between styles are even tighter than before, the slow burn moments more seamless than ever. ‘Count The Ways’ switches between rich, gorgeous string arrangements and a lead riff that feels like it swaggered its way here straight off Arctic Monkeys’ AM. ‘Woman is a Tree’ moves from its spooky choral opening into a dark folky number. The steady drum beat and backing vocals that lilt like birdsong slowly transform into something ancient and tribal. I love the way the Abigail summons silence on the closing word “still”, right as the track reaches its bewitching climax.

Lead single ‘This is the Killer Speaking’ embraces a Western vibe, jumping between a menacing murder ballad in the verses, and a shimmering rhinestone cowgirl chorus full of bombastic singalong energy. But perhaps the record’s most interesting achievement is the track that follows: ‘Rifle’. The quiet haunting intro rises to become something bluesy and intoxicating, reminiscent of Jeff Buckley. The menacing riffs that snarl their way out of Emily Roberts’ guitar in the chorus represent the album at its heaviest, yet somehow these flashes of violence are able to accentuate the heady atmosphere rather than distract from it. 

Though there are tangible improvements all across this record, it does however feel like a step backwards when it comes to well crafted hooks. I’ve not listened back to Prelude in many months, and yet I’m able to summon to mind those tracks far more easily than the new songs I heard mere moments ago. Outside of the raucous saloon shenanigans of ‘Killer Speaking‘, and ‘The Scythe’s fittingly deep cutting chorus, Pyre really struggles to bring any memorable hooks or earworm melodies to bear. Certainly nothing on the level of ‘Burn Alive’, ‘My Lady of Mercy’ or ‘Nothing Matters’. There’s a lot I love about this record, but the impression it leaves is all but washed away by the tide. 

Think of Prelude as an exciting first date. Green flags abound, all the important boxes ticked, a wonderful time had. Everything you hoped it would be and more, almost too good to be true. From The Pyre is a second date that reaffirms the positives from the first, but comes with a lack of buzz that can make it feel like something is missing. It’s great that you have shared interests and are looking for the same things, but no amount of compatibility on paper can make you feel a spark that isn’t there. One fun – if a little forgettable – outing, does temper my enthusiasm a tad, but it’s certainly not enough for me to write off all the progress that’s otherwise being made. I think perhaps with the benefit of a little extra time between records for growth, The Last Dinner Party can come back strong with a record that I fall head over heels for next time around.