Gothic, decadent, and burning alive, The Last Dinner Party’s debut album Prelude to Ecstasy may be one of the finest debut albums to be created in the last decade. Recorded at The Church Studios in Crouch Hill, the ethereal and ghostly sounds found in the high ceilings and old wood of the studios has seeped luminously into this album – it is a work of art that could not have been recorded anywhere else. The Last Dinner Party have firmly cemented themselves, winning both the BBC Radio 1’s Sound Of 2024 and the Brit Award for Rising Star; they are undoubtedly a band with a huge career ahead of them.
What is most immediately striking about this debut album is the strength and honed nature of the band’s sound, it is almost unbelievable that they have been making music together for under four years. It is impossible to skip a single song on the album because they all blend into each other so perfectly. The classical introduction ‘Prelude to Ecstasy’ lures you into the harsh grip of ‘Burn Alive’ which carries into the operatic ballad of ‘Caesar on a TV Screen’, the otherworldliness of ‘Gjuha’ jumps playfully into the anthem of ‘Sinner’. This plotting, albeit quite simple, rises and falls in an extremely organic way that makes the album an incredibly engaging listen. You, as a listener, sit in a boat and travel across the waves of music. However, this boat rarely rocks. The surprises within the album, the hair pin turns of tone or sentiment, do not cut to the marrow.
The band’s name reeks with decadence and extravagance and gore, a reinterpretation of the a classic biblical story crashing into the world of an experimental, avant-garde film like Vera Chytilova’s ‘Daisies’. The album cover is immaculate: a shrine to themselves, a self-mythologising surrounded by meticulous details of tarot cards, angles, weapons, wild flowers, irises, and countless other symbols. It is all so perfect. And this perfection trickles into the music. There is an unfortunate feeling that each song burns bright but only ever threatens to explode. The battle cry and trashing rock of ‘My Lady of Mercy’ peaks early but plateaus, never becoming truly volcanic.
The album never becomes truly shameless and gluttonous, we are kept back from the piles of food at a dinner party, only able to look at what lies on the table. The “Prelude” of the album title weighs heavily on the desire for the “Ecstasy“. Unlike at the end of Chytilova’s film where the protagonists destroy a banquet, The Last Dinner Party seems to want to preserve its pristine condition. Compared to Boygenius’ startling self-titled EP that channelled a brilliant and raw blend of genres and personalities that continues to feel fresh with each listen, The Last Dinner Party can sometimes feel like they are trying to have a lavish party without wanting to break anything.
It is clear to understand what The Last Dinner Party is trying to achieve: they are developing a sound. For a debut album, it is an incredible feat. Citing David Bowie as one of their leading inspirations, the band has an idea of idiosyncratic style, but it is yet to be fully explored, and they must mess around more and let the party be destroyed somewhat in order to find out what it is. This is the same with many similar artists: Lucy Dacus’ second album ‘Historian’ is masterful, Ethel Cain’s ‘Preacher’s Daughter’ saw her take a new direction for her first EPs, Florence and the Machine continues to change, ‘Dance Fever’ being one of her most distinctive and individual albums to date. There is no fear ahead of The Last Dinner Party, and whatever they create next will be equally engaging as Prelude to Ecstasy, but they just might have to smash some plates to find out what it will be.
7/10