Before you rush to new material, just remind yourself of what The Last Dinner Party achieved with The Killer is Speaking. Their worldbuilding has become the focal point of a sound which survived without it on their perfect debut album, Prelude to Ecstasy. A sense for the theatrics on their first album, with songs like Caesar on a TV Screen, was for the dedicated fan. But now The Last Dinner Party sounds confident in bringing those extra flourishes to the main line of their work. From the Pyre, their second studio album, receives a worthy follow-up to its lead song. Where The Killer is Speaking is a menacing instrumental blowout with a delicate break partway through to highlight the strengths of vocalist Abigail Morris, The Scythe is the reverse. A softer, slower sound which was going to feel like an inevitability the second the band tapped into it. But The Last Dinner Party are a subversive team, their skill is in finding untapped spots in oversaturated styles.
They find it on The Scythe, an inevitably skilful song but with an edge to it which hears The Last Dinner Party push for that next level. Butchered hearts and meaningful-sounding string sections are crucial here. Where contemporary pop music is offering nothing more than the barebones of love and intimacy, there is a contingent of art rock performers digging much deeper. These soulful offerings are not just honest, but necessary counters to the popular, shallow alternative. The Scythe has riches which will keep a listener coming back, just like the best moments of Prelude to Ecstasy. A song which can deliver a brutal message by leaving no stone unturned of a nasty experience, but, like any great piece of art, can leave the listener with more than what they had before listening. Few can do that, and fewer still as well as The Last Dinner Party on The Scythe.
Instrumentally outstanding and lyrically sincere, that’s all you can ask of any musician. But The Last Dinner Party brings out a fear of death usually reserved for studio veterans contemplating what lies beyond. The scythe in its sheath follows some bloody and brutal imagery from Morris, whose vocal delivery softens the brutal, limb-severing opener. A recognisable guitar line to bring on the tempo shift at the end of the song is a nice touch. What begins as a song touched by fear is one that ends with the comfort of that next life, that belief that something is lying beyond here. The Scythe touches on broad and unanswerable questions and yet finds comfort in the open-endedness. Humming, floaty instrumentals build a warmth that The Last Dinner Party has become essential in kindling.
Promising to see someone in the next life is not always a positive. It could be the hunt that The Last Dinner Party has formed as part of their image. A darker side to what, on first listen, can be a lighter touch and loving nature. Gone are those themes and in comes an expectedly excellent instrumental flow, with cutting lyrics present once more. Far more mellow than This is the Killer Speaking, and it ought to be. Balance is everything for a band that has already proven it can bring out a boisterous, active response from an audience. Giving them something to contemplate along with a tone suitable for doing so is not new ground for The Last Dinner Party, but their effectiveness remains. The Scythe is another killer piece from the band whose work just keeps getting better.
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