The Last Dinner Party performed at The Dome at Grand Central Hall in Liverpool, a venue that could not have suited them better.
The Dome was very form-fitting for the band as it gave a Shakespearean environment, with its sweeping curves and grand dome ceiling setting the stage for something both theatrical and intimate. Its Art Nouveau architecture, with stained glass and intricate detailing, echoed the band’s love of ornament, drama, and vintage decadence. It felt almost like stepping into another era, which mirrored the band’s ability to blend elegance with intensity.
One thing to note about the fan base of The Last Dinner Party is that they always show up and deliver when it comes to the creative, theme-fitting outfits they wear to the shows. Fans came adorned in lace, ribbons, corsets, pearls, and romantic silhouettes that looked like they’d walked straight out of a gothic painting. The band’s audience is just as much a part of the experience as the performance itself. They understand the aesthetic world The Last Dinner Party creates and step into it wholeheartedly.
The band often channel a Gothic-Romantic and pre-Raphaelite aesthetic. Full of corsets, pearls, and florid visuals, it paired beautifully with the ornate Edwardian elegance of the venue. This time around, it was noticeable that there were a few more males present at the show, which goes to show that anyone can enjoy and appreciate the performance the band puts on.
The album show played through their newest release, From The Pyre, which is 42 minutes of an eclectic narrative with a structure reminiscent of a tragic opera. The record balances fury with elegance and delves into themes of love, rage, death, self-realisation, and empowerment. A mythic feminine arc, if you will. As the band made their way to the stage, they were all wearing glamorous and angelic outfits, each one unique yet cohesive, shimmering under the golden lights of the hall.
Abigail Morris was resonant of a Kate Bush and Adam Ant love child. Equal parts whimsical, magnetic, and impossible to look away from. Her stage presence had that rare quality of commanding the room without trying. Every band member had their place on stage and shone in their own way. There’s a sense of genuine unity between them. As they each bring something different in terms of energy, subtlety, or technical brilliance, but when they are together it’s alchemy.
The show opened with the first song on the album, Agnus Dei, an ethereal beginning that set the tone for what was to come. The crowd erupted, and the atmosphere instantly shifted from anticipation to awe. They then moved into Count The Ways, a melodic, honest, sultry, and romantic song. It felt soft vocally, resonating with yearning, devotion, and the ache of memory. Particularly, in the lyrics, “Thinking of you / I love the way / That I can’t escape the pain / How it hangs from my heart.” Hearing it live gave the song even more depth and Morris’s voice carried a fragile power that filled the entire space.
There was a brief pause during the performance where Morris interacted with the audience, her charisma radiating off the stage. At one point, a crowd member shouted that his dad had taught Emily Roberts Geography in school, a charming, funny, and grounding moment that reminded everyone that behind the mystique, they’re still just human. Morris went on to share that this was the last record show of the tour, adding that the album was made with pure joy, and thanked the audience for being there. It was a heartfelt admission that seemed to make the whole crowd feel part of something special.
In Second Best, the harmonies from all members were delicate and heavenly, while the guitar riffs from Roberts completely grasped your attention. The chemistry between them was undeniable. Woman is a Tree followed as a ballad and a symbolic interlude, touching on femininity, identity, and transformation. Morris stood out with her angelic vocals while the rest of the band watched in awe and appreciation. It was one of those moments where everything felt suspended, the lights dimmed, the audience was silent, and every word carried weight.
The Scythe was one of the standout tracks of the night, with intricate guitar and drum tones dominating the sound. As a pivotal track on the album, it encapsulated the themes of life, death, and rebirth, steeped in imagery of fate and mortality. The energy in the room surged, it was theatrical, cathartic, and completely consuming. During the set, Morris became emotional, joking that the next song was a happy one. Her ability to balance vulnerability and wit is part of what makes her such a captivating performer.
The band then joined together for This Is the Killer Speaking, which they saved for the closing song. Morris joked about creating choreography for it and taking it on the road, insisting there “must be movement”, or she’d stop singing by the last chorus. The crowd laughed and moved with her, filling the room with a sense of shared euphoria.
Overall, it was genuinely wonderful to see the band deliver such an authentic and heartwarming performance. They were truly themselves, no false pretences, just a desire to perform, connect, and witness the audience’s real reactions to how the music made them feel. Seeing From The Pyre played in its entirety only made the experience more special. It felt like a celebration, of music, art, femininity, and community. Live, this structure becomes even more pronounced, as the transitions between songs feel like acts within a play. The audience was completely enchanted, each track pulling them deeper into the emotional world the band has crafted.
