REVIEW: An Intimate Night in New York With The Last Dinner Party
REVIEW
REVIEW
☆ BY LUCY BULLINGTON ☆
THE STAGE WAS NOTHING SHORT OF GRANDEUR—draped in dramatic white curtains and bathed in a deep red glow. Large gray archways framed the piano and drums, creating a baroque atmosphere so theatrical one might have expected a Shakespearean tragedy to unfold. As the low hum of an organ rose and fog began to spill across the floor, the band emerged onto the stage of the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York this past Saturday night.
The Last Dinner Party, the London rock band consisting of Abigail Morris, Lizzie Mayland, Emily Roberts, Georgia Davies and Aurora Nishevci, is currently touring North America in support of their sophomore album, From The Pyre. While their debut, Prelude To Ecstasy, leaned into opulence, this new record offers a drier, more restrained production that retains their signature baroque charm while still packing a significant punch.
They jumped right into the first track of the new record, “Agnus Dei.” Latin for “Lamb of God,” the song compares the narrator's love interest to the biblical figure. What amazes me about the lyricism of The Last Dinner Party is their habit of pulling niche references from scripture and myth while writing poignant lyrics about their very modern love lives, effectively putting the two in conversation with each other.
In “Agnus Dei,” they reference the burning head from the Book of Revelation and immediately follow it with the line, “I’m in love with the sound you make into the microphone.” It’s a glorious juxtaposition. Their constant use of religious imagery isn't a proclamation of faith, but rather a metaphor to convey love, guilt, obsession, and devotion. They masterfully skate between and blur the lines of sanctity and sexuality.
They then jumped into “Count The Ways,” a popular track from The Pyre. As the drum beat of their hit, “The Feminine Urge” started, lead singer Abigail Morris greeted the room with a breathless, “Good evening New York City. We are The Last Dinner Party,” making the massive venue feel like an intimate, exclusive gathering.
From the first note, Morris was a powerhouse. She is a performer in the truest sense, appearing entirely one with the music through unpredictable, passionate movement. Whether she was twirling through the chorus of “Second Best” or thrashing on the floor during the unreleased rock anthem “Big Dog,” her physical abandonment never compromised her vocals. Her ability to hit every note while submitting her body so completely to the performance was nothing short of captivating.
The set reached a poignant crescendo midway through with a selection from their recent album, Rifle. Morris took to the piano as Lizzie Mayland delivered a commanding vocal performance. The highlights included a haunting Latin passage, “Les fleurs meurent sous ton regard, les mers se brisent dans tes bras” shared in harmony between the two. After a display of technical guitar work, Mayland allowed the room to settle into a heavy silence, whispering the line “Crush to dust” before the band erupted into a crush of percussion and strings. The shift was so energetic that someone turned to me and gave a blunt, accurate assessment: “They fucking rock!”
Another standout moment in the set occurred when guitarist Emily Roberts delivered a stunning solo to close out the song "Mirror." The performance was so impressive that the crowd erupted the moment the song ended, while Abigail yelled into the microphone, “Emily fucking Roberts!”
As the band launched into their hit “Sinner,” Morris tossed back a shot while Mayland dedicated the track to “the gays and the girlies.” During the chorus, Morris performed with a rare, visceral abandonment, her body appearing utterly surrendered to the music. Watching her submit so completely to the sound was addictive, and the band’s genuine sense of fun was infectious.
Before playing their biggest hit, “Nothing Matters,” the group asked the crowd to put their phones away and be fully present. The room erupted with energy; fans danced with hands thrown high, mirroring the same freedom Morris displayed on stage. It was a truly captivating sight.
For the encore, they delivered a standout cover of the LCD Soundsystem classic, “New York, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down.” What began as a slow, intimate moment steadily built into a volcanic display of Morris’s vocal power. To close the set, Abigail reflected on the evening, noting they had laughed, cried, and danced together. Morris then offered an elegant bow and gave the final sign-off: “We have been The Last Dinner Party.”
