No Frills Reviews

The Last Dinner Party Prelude to Ecstasy

You probably know the story by now, but here’s a quick catch-up. In 2023, Londoner’s The Last Dinner Party suddenly emerged looking like they’d stepped out of Bridgerton and were greeted with a suspiciously large wave of hype. The backlash was just as sudden, with posho ‘industry plant’ accusations flying. Fast forward to this February and they hit no. 1 with the fastest-selling UK debut in almost a decade. Cue further backlash, as an out of context newspaper quote seemingly saw them flaunt their privilege. Now, however much you want to read into their success and what it may tell us about the role class plays in the music industry, the thing is they really are pretty fucking good. Their opening run of singles was excellent and they cement that promise on this album.

They’ve talked of their music as a form of escapism and it helps that there aren’t many bands out there currently that come close to sounding anything like this. These are grandiose pop tunes, with just enough weirdness that they remain interesting outside of the huge hooks. Working with long-time Arctic Monkeys’ producer, James Ford, there’s hints of the Sheffield band’s more recent cinematic art-rock, but a much more accessible version of it. They’re making up for the choruses that the Arctics have left behind. They combine orchestral baroque pop, with prog influences as mini rock operas emerge from slow-burning would-be Bond themes. Occasionally breaking out into joyous explosions that could have come straight from some of pop’s great maximalists like ABBA, Kate Bush and Madonna.

Now, this is a bit short of the classic that the hype might suggest; it could arguably go further into flamboyant escapism because it doesn’t quite have enough to say when the line is blurred back to reality. But it’s also far too good to dismiss; turn off from all the talk surrounding them and lose yourself in some of the year’s best pop music.

Best tunes: Caesar on a TV Screen, Sinner, Nothing Matters

Honourable Mentions

Hurray For the Riff Raff The Past Is Still Alive: A strong collection of gently affecting folk storytelling; perhaps their most consistent album yet. Although, despite being some of Alynda Segarra’s most autobiographical songwriting, it lacks the emotional high-points of previous albums.

Dylan John Thomas Dylan John Thomas: Ridiculously catchy Gerry Cinnamon-style acoustic anthems. And there’s moments of real vulnerability that reveal a much more interesting songwriter beyond the crowd pleasers.

Liquid Mike Paul Bunyan’s Slingshot: Combining the hook-filled fun of pop-punk with a heavy helping of a young slacker’s existential dread. 25 minutes of short, sharp rockers packing a sneaky emotional punch. “I got older, but act the same” may be the most casually devastating line of the year.

Red Rum Club Western Approaches: Like a hybrid of The Coral and The Zutons. Galloping spaghetti-Western psych collides with some of the biggest indie-pop choruses you’ll hear all year.

IDLES TANGK

The question of authenticity has always hung over IDLES. But, no matter what you made of the intentions behind their earlier work, they undoubtedly had something to say. Now they seem to actively push back against that, with this album’s mission statement ‘to make people feel not think’. The problem is that these really aren’t mutually exclusive concepts, and IDLES ability to make you feel often lay in their ability to also make you think. A cynic might suggest that the mission statement is covering for a lack of depth in Joe Talbot’s lyrics.

It’s all the more frustrating because they’ve never sounded better. Enlisting big-name producers, Kenny Beats and Nigel Godrich, pays off in the sonics as their hard-hitting post-punk is given a warped industrial edge, with gentle piano ballads sitting alongside brooding atmospheric pieces. There are moments which at least come close to living up to the mission statement, but they’re too brief amid numerous half-baked ideas and a lack of the catharsis which they previously excelled in.

As they try to move on from their early work, their sense of authenticity seems to fade from view, leaving them with no discernible identity. They’ve never been better technically, but they’ve never been less interesting.

Best tunes: Gift Horse, Roy, Hall & Oates

Full Review

Say That Again Get Over It

The debut album from Kansas City’s Say That Again often evokes the work of The Strokes. And I mean the classic early stuff, not the later stuff that nobody really likes. This is full of those irresistible swift, sharp, scuzzy guitar hooks. But, rather than nonchalant cool, it’s underpinned by something altogether more human. Kind of like The Strokes if they couldn’t afford the effects on Julian Casablancas’ voice.

I’ve been struggling to pinpoint a comparison for vocalist, Will Kuenne, but it’s somewhere between Morrissey and Billie Joe Armstrong. He sings of heartbreak and redemption, hopes and fears; yet no matter the stakes, it all manages to feel youthfully carefree. Even on the climatic closing track, which laments a failed relationship, it’s like he’s finding reassurance in the inevitability of it all.

Alongside the fast-paced indie anthems, there’s also hints of late 80’s/early 90’s alt-rock; like the quiet side of the Pixies. These songs balance the pacing, allowing some space for contemplation. But most of all, as signalled immediately with the sound of handclaps as the album opens, this is a good-time indie rock record that’ll have you tapping your feet and singing along throughout.

Best tunes: Inside Out, January, All The Same