(Left to right) Permanent members of The Last Dinner Party Aurora Nishevci, Emily Roberts, Abigail Morris, Lizzie Mayland and Georgia Davies. Credit: Fiona Lawler
Staying true to its name, The Last Dinner Party brought a delicious buzz to Newport Music Hall, breaking even the most antisocial butterflies out of their chrysalises.
The British indie-rock quintet — comprising Abigail Morris (lead vocals), Lizzie Mayland (vocals, guitar), Georgia Davies (bass), Emily Roberts (lead guitar, mandolin, flute) and Aurora Nishevci (vocals, keys) — was formed in 2021, according to a December 2023 Billboard update.
After meriting the 2024 BRITs Rising Star award in December 2023, the group went on to release its debut album “Prelude to Ecstasy” in February. Its ongoing North American tour, which dropped by Columbus this Tuesday, began March 19 and is set to conclude Aug. 7.
Like a baroque fresco come to life, The Last Dinner Party was equal parts exquisite and enigmatic. All five members skillfully entwined modern moxie with symphonious instrumentals, commanding the stage with unbridled fervor at every twist and turn.
If Morris, Mayland, Davies, Roberts and Nishevci were a romantic band of renegades ripped straight from Victorian London, opening act Miss Grit — an indie- and electro-rock artist based in Queens, New York — served as their symbiotic accomplice.
Miss Grit’s first song, titled “Perfect Blue,” quickly established them as a digitized siren of sorts. Hauntingly atmospheric, the track likely alludes to famed director Satoshi Kon’s 1997 psychological/thriller anime film of the same name.
In a husky, hushed tone, Miss Grit seemed to cast a spell over the entire venue. Furthermore, the lyric “can take a breath now” was repeated to glorious effect, astutely characterizing identity formation as a delicate and formidable process.
Throughout Miss Grit’s set, various lighting effects lent vibrancy to an otherwise unfussy performance space. Conspicuous patterns, from yarn-like scribbles to a viridescent grid, washed over their entire body to create a sea of visual interest. Moreover, their face was frequently obscured, drawing even more attention to the satisfying vocals at play.
The Last Dinner Party’s initial appearance — underscored by “Prelude to Ecstasy,” the 2024 album’s instrumental title track and sweeping overture — was nothing short of triumphant. Stage presence enveloped the crowd like a searing embrace, refusing to release lace- and velvet-clad concertgoers until the show was over.
“Good evening, Ohio,” Morris said. And it was a very good evening indeed.
As an avid fan of The Last Dinner Party, I was intrigued to see how their more literary and historical tunes would translate to a live gig. Gratifyingly, my worries were all for naught.
One of my favorite songs from “Prelude to Ecstasy,” called “Caesar on a TV Screen,” possessed all the fervor of its recorded counterpart and then some. Capturing the massive motivation to be a charismatic figure, particularly in relation to the pitfalls of excessive masculinity, is no easy feat; even so, The Last Dinner Party undoubtedly accomplished it.
Another striking number was “Beautiful Boy,” which muses on gender roles and the distinct lived experiences of conventionally attractive men.
“This next one is very special because Emily f*cking Roberts is gonna play the flute,” Morris said before launching into the unhurried and melancholic song.
Clearer than a glass of freshly filtered water, the members’ harmonies were lilting and wistful, exuding a genuine sense of introspection. This pensive quality carried over into “Mirror,” a track all about losing oneself to an all-consuming relationship.
The lingering impact of “Mirror” emerged from its expert use of silence, as one section of the song was sung a cappella. Onlookers were forced to confront the stone-cold truth that often resides in quiet moments, and the result was woefully wonderful. All the while, misty light flooded the stage, reminiscent of fog settling over a deceptively placid lake.
Of course, The Last Dinner Party also has a playful streak, and no performance illustrated this fact better than “Nothing Matters.” Streamed over 60 million times on Spotify at the time of publication, this punchy anthem is immensely popular for a reason. Brimming with vigor, the band exhibited unapologetic passion for its breakout hit, closing down the concert in a truly unforgettable manner.
Ultimately, my time with The Last Dinner Party was well spent. If given another opportunity to see the five-piece in action, such a lovely invitation would never be declined.
Rating: 5/5
