Trading the decadent dinner table for a darker, more earthy feel, The Last Dinner Party recently released their sophomore album From The Pyre.
The band describe the titular “pyre” as a place of “violence and destruction but also regeneration, passion and light.” Their storytelling speaks to a boundless creativity, weaving myth and folklore into spellbinding narratives.
Musically, the album glides from glam rock to baroque pop, with elaborate vocal arrangements running throughout. Back in July the band began teasing the album with promotional videos, reminiscent of The Wicker Man and Yellowjackets.
The album cover itself depicts each of the tracks, similar to Midsommar’s opening scene. In the same fashion, From The Pyre uses a backdrop of folklore to navigate themes of grief and healing – of death and rebirth.
As expected, something completely unsettling yet enthralling binds the songs together. It makes for an immersive and ultimately cathartic listen. An almost psychedelic guitar lick launches us into the album on opener “Angus Dei.”
Straightaway the lyricism and imagery – no doubt helped by Abigail Morris’ delivery – are astonishing. She likens idolatry to the apocalypse, craving the addictive qualities of a person who makes her feel inadequate.
“Count The Ways” is a crossover of Arctic Monkeys and Queen, with piercing vocals and aching lyrics. It is a testament to the band’s compositional skills; at times brooding and others orchestral, the song mutates and goes in unexpected directions. Written by guitarist Emily Roberts, “Second Best” is a defiant single. Opening with mesmeric vocals from all five members, it quickly becomes a punchy rock song with a Sparks influence.
As with “Angus Dei,” Roberts uses sardonic and self-aware lyrics to explore the feeling of not being good enough for someone. This is offset by her messy, almost dissonant guitar work in the chorus. The band exemplify their unity as musicians, as the bridge builds in intensity and various melodies overlap.
The next single, “This Is The Killer Speaking,” transforms a mundane and unpleasant experience into an epic story of murder. Morris adopts the persona of a cowboy on the run, as a response to being ghosted by someone. It is dramatic and funny, culminating in the comeback “hope my television appearance drives you fucking mad!”
“Rifle” is one of the most powerful tracks on the album. Guitarist Lizzie Mayland takes the lead, conjuring imagery of deer-stalking, death and blood-stained hands. Once again, the compositional skill is undeniable. Three starkly different parts – including an interlude in French – are strung together with flawless transitions.
The song opens deceptively with gentle organs, before building up to an immense chorus. It is theatrical, alternating between frenzied wails and hard-hitting lyrics that realise the apocalypse merely hinted at before – “crush to dust/ all you love/ does it feel good/ spilling blood?”
“Woman Is A Tree” is another striking moment, and one that could have been lifted straight from the Yellowjackets soundtrack. In just one song, the band manage to combine folk horror and the grotesque with ecofeminism. Challenging the view that Mother Earth is simply there to nurture and protect, the song explores a female rage lingering within nature.
Again, all five singers harmonise together in a harrowing arrangement. There is a cleansing aspect of the green worlds Morris conjures – “my heart is at rest now and everything’s still.” In this respect, it follows on from “The Feminine Urge” off Prelude To Ecstasy: “How I wish the trees would swallow me/ make me a forest/ take away my soul.”
The song’s video features some beautiful and strange choreography. It is more ritual than dance, a distortion of limbs and movement that perfectly capture the song’s atmosphere. “I Hold Your Anger” and “Sail Away” both feature stripped back piano arrangements.
Perhaps due to this simplicity, they make up some of the album’s most personal moments, discussing fears surrounding motherhood, and reflecting on past relationships. “The Scythe” is potentially the rawest moment in this collection of tales. The scythe in question is figured as something everyone must experience – “it’ll take you too.” As a relationship ends, it forces the singer to enter into a new world, alone and haunted, but with the opportunity to grow and be someone else. Morris reminds us of the rebirth grief can engender, as she sings “don’t cry, we’re bound together/ each life runs its course.”
Roberts also plays a soaring guitar solo towards the end, bringing another glimmer of hope into the song. From The Pyre is brilliantly wrapped up by Morris’ favourite song, “Inferno.” Wanting to write about something other than relationships, she instead examines her place in the public eye.
The song tackles the fame and the criticism the band have faced, which can probably feel at times like you're "Jesus Christ, swinging in a gallery in France.” Her self-destructive lyrics pair well with the song’s euphoric feel, something which epitomises the whole album.
From The Pyre is itself an inferno of imagery and emotion. If their debut was a prelude, their follow-up is unbridled misrule and ecstasy. With their high-octane sounds and complex storytelling, The Last Dinner Party have truly created a work of art.
