The Last Dinner Party – From The Pyre

A mere twenty months ago, The Last Dinner Party released Prelude To Ecstasy, a worthy debut that was, if anything, too accomplished for the kind of cynics who like to label every successful new female artist an “industry plant.” The band’s London base, private school education, and penchant for Victoriana only added fuel to the fire. But, honestly, who gives a shit in 2025? The strength of the group’s songwriting and performances was surely a key contributor to Prelude To Ecstasy’s marketability, and that’s my primary focal point when appraising an album.

Nothing about From The Pyre seems likely to win over ardent critics, because if anything, it sees the band doubling down on its formula and utilising a strikingly familiar set of ingredients.

Their musicianship is as accomplished as ever, but all too often it skews towards the safer end of the spectrum. Emily Roberts is a charismatic guitarist, but it sometimes feels like she’s playing it safe on From The Pyre. When Roberts is unleashed—as is very much the case on “Second Best,” with its Tom Verlaine-esque flourishes—The Last Dinner Party truly soars. But these moments are frustratingly rare on a record that sometimes seems to get in its own way.

There are a handful of uninspired tracks here—“Agnus Dei” feels like a lukewarm cousin of “My Lady Of Mercy,” for example—but two songs sink a level further, and they’re wedged together in the middle of From The Pyre, forming a decidedly rotten core. The first, “Rifle,” is a strong candidate for the worst thing they’ve ever released. If Evanescence rocked up to represent, say, Luxembourg at the Eurovision Song Contest, I could imagine them dialling in a chorus like this one. All the theatricality in the world couldn’t save lyrics like “Crush to dust / all you love / does it feel good / spilling blood?” but that doesn’t stop the band from trying. And, as if to embrace the sheer pomposity of it all, the song segues into a ridiculous French-language segment.

The other low point is the plodding “Woman Is A Tree.” It feels like they’re reaching for a profound statement with this one, but it's overblown and heavy-handed in a way that far superior tracks like “The Feminine Urge” (“How I wish the trees would swallow me / make me a forest”) just weren’t at all. Perhaps it’s the short time schedule? Maybe it's the pressure to be interesting; to prove the critics wrong? I don’t know, but it’s a worrying trend.

That said, I want to end on a positive note. Alongside the superb “Second Best,” two of From The Pyre’s songs stand out as career highlights. “The Scythe” is a beautiful ballad, which drops the baroque styling altogether and hints at a potential future direction for the band. But the best thing here by a country mile has to be “This Is The Killer Speaking,” a swaggering country-tinged barnstormer of a tune that ranks alongside the very best I’ve heard all year.

Ultimately, From The Pyre is the archetypal mixed bag, with glorious highs offset by some slightly concerning lows. As to whether tracks like “Rifle” are a misstep or a direction of travel, only time will tell, but The Last Dinner Party would do well to slow down and imagine a future without some of the baroque trappings that are starting to sound self-parodic at times.

From The Pyre is out now via Island Records.