Hype can kindle a career, but it’s a volatile fuel that can easily derail a band when demand lands them in venues without the chops to handle it. The Last Dinner Party are no strangers to hype, being hailed as the best new band in the world after their audacious debut single Nothing Matters catapulted them into the public eye. Cries of industry plants soon followed, as did questions of class, all of which were accompanied by strong undercurrents of misogyny. The mere temerity to simply exist was seemingly enough to send certain demographics of men around the bend.
The tension builds as The Last Dinner Party’s intro music – the title track from their debut album ‘Prelude To Ecstasy’ – swells in the Olympia and it’s not long before the first of the naysayers observations fall. They can play. The ostentatious Burn Alive ushers us fully into their velvety, gothic, glam rock world. Singer Abigail Morris leans into her role as the wine drinking siren with aplomb, floating around the stage with ease.
Her voice is on point, and the interplay between her voice and lead guitarist Emily Roberts and rhythm guitarist Lizzie Mayland’s vocals are impressive throughout Caesar on a TV Screen and Beautiful Boy, which showcases the talents of keyboardist Aurora Nishevci who joins on grand piano as the staging highlights the waning crescent moon backdrop. Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game gets a baroque makeover and fits surprisingly well with their oeuvre – expect to find a studio version of this appearing on many movie soundtracks in the future.
Although all of the songs are intricate and theatrical, Emily Roberts guitar work stands out on songs such as Sinner and My Lady of Mercy when she put her St. Vincent Goldie through its paces. As the show progresses, however, it’s clear that Lizzie Mayland is the band’s secret weapon, the steady hand keeping everything together while the showbiz transpires around her.
On Your Side, which the band debuted at their last Irish show, is a real treat, the Suede-esque ballad showcasing the group’s impeccable vocal harmonies, lifting the pedal on the pomp and instead leaning on the heartstrings to prove that without all the bells and whistles, The Last Dinner Party can connect deeply with an audience.
Gjuha finds Aurora Nishevci exploring her guilt about not being fluent in Albanian, something which may well resonate with many Irish people. The night’s second cover, Blondie’s Call Me, is an inspired choice. Rendered with a darker edge, it fits perfectly into wuthering world that The Last Dinner Party have created for themselves.
The encore commences with unreleased song The Killer (Yeehaw Interlude) and finds The Last Dinner Party in Rolling Stones, country boogie territory. While the band file across the stage in a line, Abigail Morris unexpectedly appears in one of the Olympia’s boxes, leaning down towards the crowd for the first half of the song before running down two flights of stairs back to the stage for the climax.
Naturally, the last hurrah is saved for the singalong that is Nothing Matters, momentarily sung in the night’s third and final language: Smilish. It’s an appropriately evocative end to a highly theatrical night’s entertainment.
Hype can kindle or kill a career but thankfully for The Last Dinner Party, they more than have the chops to back up the hype. If you’re still resisting their charms because of some lingering doubts about meritocracy, tonight more than proves they deserve to be where they are.
