Prelude to Ecstasy
Album by The Last Dinner Party
Released 2 February 2024
Indie Rock
Produced by James Ford
Rating – 8.5/10
How The Last Dinner Party fuel ecstasy…
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This is a rewrite of my review of The Last Dinner Party’s Prelude to Ecstasy. While I initially highlighted the hobbies and druthers that make the London quintet tick – tick like the grandfather clock of the scornful, aristocratic mansion they sound like they accidentally married into – I thought it’d be better to discuss how said hobbies and druthers fuel the ecstasy named on the tin.
Let’s quickly go over what these ecstatic fancies are:
- A super-styled approach to rock music that combines atypical arena anthemics, glam rock and progressive interplay that abandons linear structuring.
- A fully-resourced orchestra – occasionally conducted by bandmember Aurora Nishevci – utilised on much of the tracklist.
- Prodigious singing voices supplied by Abigail Morris and the rest of the band’s harmonies; accented, proper, somewhat mockingly royal and adept.
- Lyrics that undress the concept of gender in a variety of ways, including analysis of sexuality norms and riot grrrl-inspired assessments of women’s roles.
These facets make this blossoming band such a presence not only in the world of alternative rock, but commercially, given the success of Prelude to Ecstasy. Pretty much every song on the album combines two or more of these hooks; Caesar on a TV Screen, for example, thrills and impresses with smart lyrics that recurrently venture back to Leningrad like any good diplomat, a progressive structure that transforms the piece’s lyrical basis, and a hell of a lot of vocal pomp. It eventually resembles David Bowie’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide; a waltz the guts of which implode due to the depth of orchestra that pushes from the inside, as punchy as a hockey fight.
It’s an easy swell, gripping with each gasp, and hardly the only example of a track that’ll breed this and that and this and that to fuel a little ecstasy. Infatuations with the same sex seamlessly glide through My Lady of Mercy, as early as its intro sequence which lightly jogs with golden guitar lines interspersed atop, happily reminding me of Grizzly Bear’s Ready, Able. Its lyrics range from salaciously devilish to sheer love, and here comes that orchestra’s guttural implosion again as the rhythm shifts and the words “oh, rest your feet on me / my lady of mercy” are belted in a red hot swell. It needs to be said; everything achieved on the song is stunning.
The Feminine Urge affectionately begins with the kind of drum intro one would associate with a ‘60s girl group, before stuttering the word “entertainment” like Sleater-Kinney and building to the chorus with the impounding melodies of an earlier Big Thief/Adrianne Lenker composition. So, is it an ode to women? It is, but as Morris’s voice swings from sternly middling to a pearly falsetto, it is more an ode to not being a woman in the manner one might expect, singing about all that she can be, before offering quips like “do you feel like a man when I can’t talk back?” and “failure, can’t commit to the role, I admit was a failure you achieved on your own”. It also needs to be said in this case; everything achieved on the song is stunning.
Orchestra is the be-all-end-all of the opening title track, the prelude to the prelude. Symphonic splendour, dazzling if not fanciful, is what allows Albanian operetta Gijuha to shine even in its unassuming role as a minute-and-a-half track in the middle of the album. It is sung with gorgeous harmonies that commit to aria, alongside likeminded harps and tremolo strings.
Dining out on euphoria is the enormity of Burn Alive; a light-up wall of sound that immediately tips its cap to the efforts of producer James Ford. While little is disclosed from the album’s nuttier moments – Sinner features chromatic piano thuds and theatrical vocal breeds that may as well make it a Madness song – euphoria is captured in ballads. The chorus of On Your Side – “when it’s 4AM and your heart is breaking…” is a dreamy standout, and Mirror combines with subtle dramatics to launch the power ballad crescendo that any album with this much force behind it needs; those woah-oh strings; those guitar solos, my word.
But what about the songs that factor in a little less? Popular sex anthem Nothing Matters gives credence to The Last Dinner Party simply being a rock band. Sentiment uplifts the basics of even their more dangerous songs, and the single is particularly uplifting, going into great detail on desires of closeness, resonating lyrically and through a Blondie-like chorus that glues those listening into the arms of their lover as they dance.
And sometimes, all that’s needed is the band’s propensity to analyse gender. Their societal ideals turn to impertinent philosophies such as “the best a boy can be is pretty” on Beautiful Boy, otherwise a steady indie rock song with a hooky finale that orchestrates when no orchestra is present.
This ain’t no prelude: the ecstasy is already here. Prelude to Ecstasy is a cerebrally-worked shapeshifter that presents an indie rock blanket then adds more and more layering with each beat; orchestral arrangements, deeply curious lyrics that address gender differently to most, progressive structuring that snaps away from convention. It’s nice to see how successful it has become, reaching #1 in the UK charts upon release. People must really like their ecstasy – I know I do.
Best tracks – The Feminine Urge – On Your Side – My Lady of Mercy – Nothing Matters.
Rating – 8.5 out of 10
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