Coming in hot from their acclaimed debut album, “Prelude to Ecstasy,” The Last Dinner Party released their sophomore album, “From The Pyre,” on Oct. 17. A strong debut like “Prelude to Ecstasy” set the bar extremely high for The Last Dinner Party — but it’s safe to say “From The Pyre” exceeds every expectation.
Visually and lyrically, “From The Pyre” is steeped in themes of mythology, gender roles, fame, death and love. It takes the distinct, theatrical indie-rock production of “Prelude to Ecstasy” and elevates it into an art rock, ’80s-inspired sound that’s reminiscent of Florence + the Machine’s 2015 album “How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful.”
Right off the bat, the rollout for “From The Pyre” was significantly smoother than that of their debut. Because “Prelude” has five singles — nearly half of the album — it leads the full experience of the album to be rather underwhelming, as the majority of it has already been heard before. In comparison, “Pyre” merely has three singles: “This is the Killer Speaking,” “The Scythe” and “Second Best.” This fair distribution of singles gave fans a small taste of the album’s playfulness, vulnerability and intensity without fully spoiling it before release.
“Count The Ways” is an immediate standout on the album, reeling listeners in with lead singer Abigail Morris’ infectious chorus as she sings, “I count the ways / That I love you everyday.” Throughout the track, Morris lingers on every lyric, creating a melodic emphasis that leaves listeners hanging on her every word and that burns the chorus into their brains. As Morris repeatedly sings, “That should be for me,” she utilizes a desirous — almost sultry — tone that encapsulates the more mature, sensual nature of “Pyre” when compared to “Prelude.”
A few tracks after “Count The Ways,” guitarist Lizzie Mayland takes the lead vocal on “Rifle” — a masterclass in production. “Rifle” starts off slow and tender, though it subtly builds into a climactic chorus that’s drenched in electric guitar and drums, as Mayland sings, “Crush to dust / (Ah) All you love.” This differs from past The Last Dinner Party songs like “Caesar on a TV Screen” or “My Lady of Mercy,” where their transitions into intense production lacked buildup, making them slightly jarring. While these songs are certainly still amazing, the subtle build in “Rifle” makes for a much easier, more satisfying listening experience.
“Rifle” is also a masterclass in lyricism, subverting the band’s typical thematic emphasis on femininity in favor of masculinity. Mayland frames this masculinity with the opening lyric — “Turn your head boy” — and subsequently attributes a sense of violence to such masculinity through the lyric “Boots and rifles / All stained all red.” As Mayland notes that “cloth and steel” bound their subject’s “callous hands,” they simultaneously acknowledge that the patriarchal expectation for men to be violent harms not only those they enact it upon, but themselves as well.
Next up on the album is “Woman is a Tree,” where the band vocalizes together to craft haunting harmonies that sound like they’re ripped straight from the “Yellowjackets” soundtrack. This creates a dark, gothic atmosphere that feels completely unique to “Pyre,” yet coincides well with the theatric nature of a typical The Last Dinner Party performance.
Despite the unfamiliar atmosphere, “Woman is a Tree” expresses themes familiar to The Last Dinner Party, focusing on the idea of femininity that was previously subverted in “Rifle.” In particular, the titular metaphor of women being trees harkens to the concept of Mother Nature — an assertion supported by Morris’ lyrical declaration that she is “superior mother.” This attributes a sense of divinity to womanhood, acknowledging that their ability to sustain and create life is — in a way — divine. As Morris deems that men are a “clinging vine on the branch,” she insinuates that they’re mere extensions of women themselves, existing only because of women’s role as the creators of life.
The following track, “I Hold Your Anger,” has lead vocals by the band’s keyboardist Aurora Nishevci. On “Prelude to Ecstasy,” Nishevci took the lead vocals on “Gjuha” — an unfortunately short yet hauntingly beautiful standout track of the album. Luckily, “I Hold Your Anger” is a little over four minutes long, giving Nishevci real time to shine.
Like “Woman is a Tree,” “I Hold Your Anger” focuses on the theme of motherhood — specifically, its inescapability. Although Nishevci sings, “I don’t know if I’d be a good mother,” she finds herself taking on a similar role as she sings, “I hold your sorrows, hold your fears / Hold your anger in my tears.” Despite her worries, she takes on this maternal, protective role for those around her as she believes it’s what she’s “meant to do” — that being a woman inherently makes her a mother. However, as the song comes to its triumphant conclusion, Nishevci sings, “It’s not what I was made to do,” acknowledging that being a woman does not confine her to this role, and that she can “still care” for those around her without it being innately maternal.
Despite “Woman is a Tree” and “I Hold Your Anger” both tackling the theme of femininity, it never manages to feel redundant or repetitive — even when considering the band’s several other thematically similar songs. Generally, this illustrates one of The Last Dinner Party’s biggest strengths: their songs never blur together, with each having its own distinct, unique identity.
“From The Pyre” sees The Last Dinner Party play into and polish their strengths — whether it be their catchy, intense production or their innately feminine lyrics. The album not only solidifies their sound, but their place in the music industry as a whole, confirming that The Last Dinner Party won’t be disappearing anytime soon.
Travis Foley is an Arts & Entertainment Intern for the fall 2025 quarter. He can be reached at tdfoley@uci.edu.
Edited by Corinna Chin and Mia Noergaard