I first saw The Last Dinner Party last July, on a tiny side stage at the Latitude Festival.
Even then it was apparent they had something special: An invigorating abundance of musicality and flair.
Just 10 months later, they’ve improved beyond definition.
There’s a swagger and confidence that comes from playing to an audience that knows every word – and the band are locked in step, all adhering to a black, white and red colour scheme without sacrificing their individuality (Georgia is in school uniform, Emily is in a ruffled Victorian bodysuit).
There’s a swagger and confidence that comes from playing to an audience that knows every word – and the band are locked in step, all adhering to a black, white and red colour scheme without sacrificing their individuality (Georgia is in school uniform, Emily is in a ruffled Victorian bodysuit).
During Caesar On A TV Screen, Abigail, Georgia, Emily and Lizzie even stand facing each other in a circle – engaged in a sort of Mexican standoff of guitar pyrotechnics.
And later, they treat the audience to a new song – a post-punk/new wave scorcher called Zecond Bezt, which Emily calls “quite a special” addition to the set.
“It’s about choosing to leave someone who treated you as second best,” she explains.
Abigail Morris is their not-so-secret weapon, though.
A whirling, preening, vocal powerhouse who coyly enlists the audience to help her break the BBC’s taste and decency guidelines.
Quote Message: This lovely weekend is put on by the BBC but the thing is you can’t swear on the BBC.” from Abigail Morris
“You’ve now become incredibly important to us because we can’t swear,” she explains to their audience and says “but we know a few thousand people who can”.
“So to help us out of this little tizzy, in the chorus, give us the loudest [ahem] that you can,” Abigail says.
The crowd knows exactly what to do, and does it so loudly that the tent itself blushes. Expect a guidance warning when this goes on iPlayer.