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Review: The Last Dinner Party, The Fleece – ‘A celebration’
“Thank you so much for coming down early to catch our set!” are the first words uttered by Katherine Parlour, Picture Parlour‘s lead singer, despite the fact that people have been queuing for about 2 hours prior to their set.
This is impressive for a band whose music has essentially spread by word of mouth; they only have two singles out, Norwegian Wood and Judgement Day.
It is easy to see how they gained such popularity, their songs have the same grit and depth found in Amy Winehouse’s vocals, the dramatic chords of Arctic Monkeys and the smooth melodies of Nick Cave.
is needed now More than ever
The audience of The Fleece sing along to everything, little acknowledgement of whether it has been officially released, like the fiercely powerful Norwegian Wood or is only available through shaky, fan recorded YouTube videos, like the sleazy, rock and roll Neptune 66.
Judgement Day makes their interactions with the world of The Last Dinner Party plain, introduced with classical music and playing heavily on very theatrical, classical imagery, a beautifully told story of yearning and devotion.
When The Last Dinner Party are introduced, it is with Star-Wars-esque music, barely audible over the screams of the audience, sliding into the opening chords of Burn Alive which, again despite being unreleased, is met with dancing and every word sung back at them.
They seem to make music almost specifically designed for twirling, lapsing into high notes that float across the top of bouncy guitars and heart-wrenching lyrics of romantic chaos.
The first officially released song that is played is Caesar On A TV Screen, an epic, lyrical ballad that encapsulates the band’s full artistic potential, perhaps even more theatrical than any of their debut singles.
It sounds more like a forceful reaction to the misogyny that the band have faced, accused of being an industry plant, which almost every all-female/non-binary band have faced as of late, the lyrics “When I put on that suit/ I don’t have to stay mute” seemingly shutting down the ridiculous criticisms that they have received since gaining popularity.
The gig becomes a safe space for female power from the stage back to the cloakroom, a celebration of how music can bring joy and acceptance.
Towards the middle of their set, they get a little experimental, changing the normal format of their song Beautiful Boy to an eerie, siren song, vocals dancing with the mystical chords of a flute.
It’s wonderful to see a band experimenting with their sound, carving out new directions in front of a live audience and that is, undoubtedly, what makes The Last Dinner Party so magnetic, their ability to throw themselves into musical experimentation with little regard for tradition or expectation.
Continuing this theme of vulnerability, they play a song called Gjuha, a captivating, emotional song from Aurora Nishevci about the “shame of not knowing [their] mother tongue very well”.
The layers of chords create a slow, beautiful build completely separate from the rest of their material but, again, showing the band’s strength and range.
To finish, they play all of their released material in full, theatrical glory, holding the hands of audience members in On Your Side, the longing melody saturated with melancholy.
They blow the power during Sinner through “the power of rock and roll” but handle it beautifully, testament to their professionalism as performers, not just musicians.
In minutes, everything is up and running again, the band once again whirling to massive gay anthems, backlit by strobes and bathed in tulle.
The night comes to a close, of course, on Nothing Matters, their first ever single and an instant hit.
The glam frenzy, accompanied by Abigail’s distinctive belts, whips around The Fleece, a venue that seems much too small for them now, and the final chords float away on every flower crown and big skirt that left the venue that night.
Main photo: Daisy McEwen
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