Last Dinner Party serve up a glorious racket with Prelude to Ecstasy

The NME — that former hype merchant — called them “the best new band you haven’t heard yet”. Since then, there has been a handful of near universally acclaimed singles, and they won the increasingly prophetic BBC Sound Of poll for 2024, among a handful of other accolades.

Quite a bit of pressure, then, for debut album Prelude to Ecstasy to cut the mustard. It does — and then some. But it’s best to approach this baroque genre-shifting album as the work of a new young band hellbent on kicking up a glorious racket, rather than an era-defining long-player that some of the hyperventilating commentary might suggest.

Grandiose and lush — not too unlike the aforementioned Florence Welch and Hozier, whom they’ve also supported on the road — the album is built on some cracking songs that belie the group’s comparatively short time together.

The florid, anthemic debut single, Nothing Matters, was deservedly raved about on release and it’s surrounded by several other tracks of similar calibre. The melodramatic Caesar on a TV Screen crackles with energy and ambition and may remind some of Dog Man Star-era Suede, while My Lady of Mercy is a deliciously playful confection, all handclaps and glam guitars.

Much of what makes the band special resides in leader Abigail Morris. While more than capable of vocal gymnastics, her impressive range is at the service of the songs. She’s a commanding presence similar to Wolf Alice’s Ellie Rowsell, and some see the Londoners as a like-minded pair.

The production favours a maximalist approach while rarely losing the run of itself. There are plenty of indie elements showcased too and the guitar is to the fore time and again. James Ford — one of the most in-demand producers of his generation — shows his chops once more.

Forget the hype and luxuriate in the sound. The Last Dinner Party band return to Ireland for a debut headline show at Dublin’s 3Olympia on October 7.

Dinosaur Jr were doing their thing long before any member of the Last Dinner Party was born, and that beloved alt-rock outfit’s frontman J Mascis is still going strong, within and outside his band.

What We Do Now, his fourth solo offering, is vintage Mascis and one of the most consistently strong set of songs he has ever done. His voice — bruised and unpretty — is never less than captivating and, as befitting the guitar god that many consider him to be, his Fender Jazzmaster is allowed free rein.

Both vocals and six-string meld together beautifully on Can’t Believe You’re Here, a standout song and one to beguile admirers old and new.