The Last Dinner Party
From the Pyre
ISLAND
You’d be forgiven for thinking that, despite the chaos of the world right now, it can often feel like we’re living the same day over and over again. Revivalist aesthetics are now so ingrained into Western culture that it’s tough to even ascribe things as “retro” or the particularly overused term “nostalgic.” It’s strange to think that the prevalence of new music directly lifted from bygone decades is actually a relatively new phenomenon. Today, it’s probably just as common to hear musicians making 1980s-styled electronica or post-punk rooted in the late 1970s as it is to hear them making something that sounds like today, which has even gotten harder to discern.
The latest contortion of this snake-eating-its-tail cultural branch has been a resurgence of interest in 1970s pop rock. As evidence, just look at HAIM, Clairo, and the latest Wolf Alice album, not to mention Daisy Jones & the Six and the Tony-sweeping play Stereophonic—a retelling of Fleetwood Mac’s troubled recording of Rumours. It’s also no coincidence that the first AI “band” to generate worldwide headlines were created in this algorithm-baiting image. London’s The Last Dinner Party are another of these nascent big-name ’70s revival acts. On their second full-length From the Pyre, the five-piece have doubled down on their brand of pomp from the era and crafted another grandiose, ornate, big-budget collection of orchestral glam rock that, despite its flair, doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression.
The band’s distinct vocals are their strongest suit by a mile. Abigail Morris traverses unexpected and flamboyant melodic routes, best displaying her versatility on the dynamically varied “Rifle” and the Kate Bush pastiche verse sections of “Count the Ways.” As that comparison shows, though, her approach generally feels like an imitation of the power and splendor of iconic singers from decades gone by. Musically, the same thing: “Sail Away” is a pristine but rote piano ballad, while “Agnus Dei” is peppered with guitar solos and waltz-timed ABBA vibes. The best tracks inject more intense energy, such as “Second Best” with its odd structuring and closing build and release. However, this is also one of several tracks that suffers from sloppy lead guitar playing—a problem encountered again on the dull pentatonic outro of “I Hold Your Anger.”
The Last Dinner Party’s clear musical skill and competent use of scale means that there are moments on From the Pyre that achieve a sense of undeniable grandeur. The fundamental problem, though, is that none of it really makes any sort of impact, as it all feels so eerily familiar. We can’t keep cycling through bygone decades and making a trend out of that era’s aesthetics forever, can we?
