I\u2019ve spent hours moaning about The Last Dinner Party. For many moons I was convinced they were nepo babies, thrown into fame by Universal Records to sell albums to middle class indie fans. But I was entirely wrong. Well, maybe not entirely. The Last Dinner Party are distastefully posh \u2013 however, their performance and musical composition is immaculate.<\/strong><\/p>\n My resentment with the 5-piece began with the release of their debut album, \u201cPrelude to Ecstasy\u201d. Finding fame fast with their first single \u201cNothing Matters\u201d, winning Radio 1\u2019s Sound of 2024 Award, I quickly felt as though their success was unearned. After all, many of my favourite bands spent years producing fantastic records, never gaining the recognition it took The Last Dinner Party just months to receive.<\/p>\n Barely listening to the debut album, I stubbornly insisted they were rubbish. That is until I caught them supporting Olivia Rodrigo at Hyde Park in 2025 and quickly changed my mind. After listening to their 2025 release, \u201cFrom the Pyre\u201d, I realised I\u2019d been too quick to judge.<\/p>\n With a new outlook on what I ignorantly considered to be a gentrified fashion parade, The Last Dinner Party rose through the ranks and became amongst my favourite bands.<\/p>\n Owing them an apology for my relentless whining about their success, I headed down to Brighton to catch the final leg of their \u201cFrom the Pyre\u201d tour.<\/p>\n After managing not to get blown away walking across Brighton seafront in gale-force winds, I made my way into The Brighton Centre.<\/p>\n Upon entry I was searched for weapons and informed that knives had already been found on two guests that evening.<\/p>\n Reassured I wasn\u2019t going to be stabbed, I slipped my way into the crowd managing to awkwardly and Britishly \u201csorry\u201d and \u201cexcuse me\u201d my way into a central spot in the audience.<\/p>\n I quickly became aware I was of a minority demographic as a 19-year-old man. Most of the audience was populated by teenage girls wearing colour coordinated gothic baroque outfits. It is unusual that I\u2019m the tallest at a gig but that night, proudly wearing my Idles t-shirt and baggy jeans, I stuck out like a sore thumb.<\/p>\n The Last Dinner Party are more of a theatrical performance than a conventional gig. The stage was dressed in mossy concrete arches, a church bell and stage backdrop made from draped white satin.<\/p>\n As anticipation built amongst their teenage fan tribe, I watched in awe as a roadie placed a large glass of red wine by each microphone.<\/p>\n I hold no prejudice against red wine, but their Merlot sipping certainly sums up my initial reservations about the band.<\/p>\n The lights dimmed and one by one each member strode onto the stage, each met by 100 decibel screams, until finally frontwoman Abigail Morris pranced out.<\/p>\n This was a pattern I noticed throughout the gig. It seemed I was the only audience member cordially clapping at the end of each song (I don\u2019t have the courage or vocal cords to let out a supporting scream).<\/p>\n Sparing little time for small talk, \u201cAgnus Dei\u201d began, setting the scene for the band\u2019s intellectual yet whimsical stage presence. Even allowing for the King\u2019s College connection, their lyrics are heavy with numerous biblical and philosophical references. Which typically I would object to, but, frustratingly, all their songs are delicately written and pitch perfectly composed.<\/p>\nTeenage girls wearing gothic baroque outfits<\/h2>\n
Dramatic stage decor<\/h2>\n
Agnus Dei<\/h2>\n
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