LIVE REVIEW: The Last Dinner Party Enchants Audience At Riverstage

Photo by Robbie Hume

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went to see UK indie rock band The Last Dinner Party perform at Brisbane’s Riverstage on January 19th. It was an ordinary Monday night. The air was unusually cool for a summer’s day, and it slowly crept up on us as the sky changed from a pale blue to a lemon sunset. The cold was aided by a breeze sweeping in from the water, as we stood clustered around the iconic open-air grass amphitheatre (my favourite venue to watch live music at). And then, night fell upon us, and I was enchanted.

Though they’re only a few years into the scene, I’ve loved them since I heard their debut hit ‘Nothing Matters’ in 2023. Their orchestral pop and art rock influences had me intrigued, along with their mythic storytelling. But I didn’t realise how deeply I could adore them until I witnessed their glowing performance.

It was their final show touring Australia to celebrate their latest album, From The Pyre. The whole evening unearthed a kind of feminine power inside me that I am completely obsessed with. It’s rare to experience such pure, raw feminine energy, and we were gifted that by both The Last Dinner Party and opening act Sir Chloe – two powerful female-fronted bands. The whole evening was intoxicating, and I loved every second of it.   

Photo by Robbie Hume

First off, Sir Chloe. Astonishing. The American Indie rock artist provided a perfect taste of what was to come, and she ignited a new obsession in me: rock bands. It’s not often I watch rock music live or have the privilege of witnessing not one but two female bands in the same night, but it was a welcome feeling that zapped my whole being. You could tell they were incredible musicians, dedicating their entire bodies to each instrument – something, I think, rock and roll allows for the best.

Neon green and hot pink lights wove in and around their instruments as they performed into the night. It was only made more immersive by The Last Dinner Party’s gothic and mythical stage setup (more on that soon). Lead singer Sir Chloe (aka Dana Foote) rocked around the stage in an oversized black T-shirt over fishnet tights, a common piece among the other group members. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, and I witnessed that same focus among everyone else. There was a point where blood red lights lit up the mosh pit, and the trance was clear. We were Sir Chloe’s followers, clinging to her every word and movement to find out what to do next.

Photo by Robbie Hume

Even being an on-the-night-fan, I was captured by her repertoire. One song, ‘Hooves’, was altered for the stage, beginning with each member jamming out with extreme expression until the song’s true beginning. That was when Sir Chloe emerged from the dark, microphone dangling towards the audience in one hand, head forward with a carefree, drunk-like coolness. Her hooky guitar riffs, alternative instrumental style, pop influences, and hauntingly emotional vocals (particularly shown in her most popular song, ‘Michelle’), affirmed her unique capabilities as an artist. I also loved how she weaved dark, biblical references into her songs, which brings me to the topic of those who do it best, The Last Dinner Party.

Photo by Robbie Hume

I already felt like I was tapping into something ancient and primal, but The Last Dinner Party took me that final step closer. Their show began with glowing white lights and unnerving, dissonant instrumental music as they strode onto the stage one by one, showing off their distinctly mystical outfits. I watched as Emily Roberts, Lizzie Mayland, Georgia Davies, Aurora Nishevci, and finally, lead singer, Abigail Morris, twirled onto the stage in a white gust of wind. They kicked off the show with their song ‘Agnus Dei’, track 1 on their latest album. As a folklore lover and musician myself, the way The Last Dinner Party incorporates mythological storytelling into their music is like being served my deathbed dish. Take ‘Agnus Dei’. The song title translates to “Lamb of God”, just one example of how they utilise biblical symbols and stories, all while harnessing real and relatable emotions for us to cling to.

And then, something I wasn’t at all prepared for, the operatic, haunting vocals of Morris scooped me up and took me far, far away. She shone so brightly that night, sounding even better live than on record. In fact, the entire discography of The Last Dinner Party, I realised, was created to be played and witnessed live. There is so much life inside each song that only a performance can crack open. Every element – the set, sound, costumes, lights, vocals, instruments, and the magical humans that make up the band itself – swung a hook into my body. I was transfixed. My friend and I kept looking at each other to confirm this marvellous madness was truly happening.

Photo by Robbie Hume

It wasn’t until they played their song ‘The Scythe’ that I realised how true to the recordings these live versions were. I noticed it during that song because it’s been on repeat in my car and my brain, and I was pleasantly delighted to hear all my favourite ear-tingling instrumental moments.

I must discuss how simply stunning the stage setup was. I wanted to live in it. If I could perch myself in and among the white ruffled sheets beneath the archways and watch all their remaining shows on the tour, I would. It was set up like a chapel: an altar in the centre, two archways on either side of the stage with huge swinging church bells, cascading stairs, and white flowing fabric that gave it both an angelic and gothic feel. I felt like I was being baptised by their operatic vocals. A part of some kind of anointment, even. I was particularly mesmerised by the back wall, which, when lit up by the deep red floodlights, reminded me of the gates to the upside-down in Stranger Things. If you know it, you understand the vision. It only made me feel that more transported.

Photo by Robbie Hume

This show was, put simply, easy to love. In terms of their setlist, I loved how dynamic their transitions between songs were. They weaved their louder, more theatrical tunes like ‘Caesar On The TV Screen’ between hits like ‘The Feminine Urge’ and more intimate songs such as ‘Sail Away’. That song stood out to me as a particularly raw moment. It began with Morris singing solo and Nishevci transporting us to a magical land on piano. I could hear the emotions rippling in Morris’ vocals, and it was made even more special when the remaining band members began singing backup harmonies, like sirens in the wind. At this moment, one audience member shone their phone light into the sky, and soon we all followed with our own. I couldn’t get over how they could move seamlessly between being a choir as well as an epic rock band with many moving parts.

This leads me to mention how insane their vocals were. Oh. My. God. The way they blended their harmonies was raw perfection. I also loved how they shared the lead vocal parts. One song was even sung in Albanian, keyboard player Nishevci’s mother tongue, which she wrote as an expression of feeling disconnected from her culture. The entire band joined in to sing Albanian for this song, showing just how collaborative the band is and more than just a project for them. A sisterhood. A family forged in storytelling and mutual love for music. Every song felt like a chapter in their gospel, being performed to us extremely willing listeners.

Photo by Robbie Hume

And then, as the night was coming to an end, they played ‘Nothing Matters’. This was, in fact, my top song of 2024, so you can understand my excitement when this tune began. Being their last song, or at least what the audience believed to be, they were so playful with it, dancing and rocking with each other, Abigail reaching into the crowd, giving us the joy of singing the chorus by ourselves.

I left that place feeling like I’d been to the theatre, the ballet, and a music concert all in one. I could go on, but this is a night best experienced for yourself.