REVIEW: From the Pyre – The Last Dinner Party

⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 – enigmatic, dramatic, emotional

Following an explosive debut album, The Last Dinner Party has released their second, From the Pyre.

Although this new album shifts slightly from their original baroque-pop style, the dramatics have certainly not been left behind.

The three singles, Second Best, This is the Killer Speaking, and The Scythe are just as flamboyant and epic as the singles from Prelude to Ecstasy.
Abigail Morris’ vocals are still enchanting, and the instrumentals (Lizzie Mayland, Emily Roberts, Georgia Davies, Aurora Nishevci) which would feel erratic and disjointed in any other album, keep the listener excited.

The first track, Agnus Dei, introduces the band’s classic use of religious imagery, and Count The Ways has a catchy backing.
Especially when performed live – like in Southampton on Sunday – these are a near perfect opening to the album, ever flamboyant and a spectacle to behold.

The track list picks up with two of the singles (Second Best and This is the Killer Speaking) followed by anti-war anthem Rifle and Woman is a Tree, which is inspired by the TV show Yellowjackets.
They keep the energy going, and Rifle rings especially poignant following the most recent ceasefire deal in Gaza.
It is the strongest non-single song, building up into a cacophony of urgency and emotion led by guitarist Mayland.

Unfortunately, the album falters after this, with the style shifting in a way that may make audiences think they have suddenly switched albums.
I Hold Your Anger and Sail Away aren’t bad songs, nor are they poorly performed, but their tone and style is just so different from the other songs that they sound more like a last minute addition to bulk out the run time than a deliberate choice to have a lull in energy in the middle of the album.

The Scythe does manage to pick the energy back up in time for the end of the 42-minute runtime, and is perhaps the best track overall.
Originally about a teenage breakup, the lyricism strikes a chord deep within anyone who has experienced a loss, and the theatrical feeling shows off exactly what this band is capable of.

Inferno is not a bad ending to the album by any means; it’s a decently strong song and feels more closely aligned with The Last Dinner Party’s usual style.
Adorned with religious imagery, filled with a beautiful range of vocals, and final notes that blend seamlessly back into the beginning of Agnus Dei, it should be quite the showstopper.
But, similar to its first album counterpart Mirror, it doesn’t quite hold up the energy created by the track before it, releasing some of that folk-horror movie tension the album is inspired by.
It’s symptomatic of a larger problem; this album is just a bit rushed, and a bit underwhelming compared to its predecessor.

Despite all of the individual songs being good, even excellent at times, the album as a whole feels ever so slightly disconnected from itself.
Perhaps this is intentional, to keep the listener uneasy, but it mainly comes across as a let-down from their carefully constructed debut from 2024.
Such a heavy contrast isn’t necessarily a bad move, it was simply executed poorly.
The band themselves described it as “raw and earthy and animal and free”, but perhaps have missed the mark this time.
That being said, they had set a nearly impossible standard with Prelude to Ecstasy, and hope is far from lost for The Last Dinner Party to use their extremely promising potential to find their sound.