A night capturing the future of British alternative
Words and Pictures by Sara-Louise Bowrey
The Brighton Centre has seen more than its share of landmark shows, but this one carried a particular charge. With Imogen and the Knife stepping confidently into the support slot and the rapidly rising The Last Dinner Party headlining, it felt like a snapshot of the UK alt scene in glorious transition.
Imogen and the Knife: rising fast, shining bright
From the moment they walked on, Imogen and the Knife made it clear they weren’t here to blend into the scenery. The cavernous arena didn’t swallow them; they expanded to fill it, shifting between dark, brooding electronics and sudden pockets of tenderness.
Their sound was cinematic and immense, yet shot through with intimate, fragile detail. The choral introduction from their recent EP Some Kind of Love drifted like a hush over the arena before erupting into throbbing synths. “Paris Nights” stood out as a seductive and restless pulse, while other tracks stripped things back to intricate beats and crystal-sharp vocals.
A milestone moment
Mid-set, Imogen paused to take everything in. The last time they played Brighton, it was the tiny Hope & Ruin. The leap to the Brighton Centre told its own story, and the crowd roared in full recognition of their ascent.
Later, when Imogen asked the crowd not to scream “or I’ll cry”, the inevitable happened: the volume doubled. A perfectly human crack in an otherwise future-leaning set. The connection deepened, shoulders loosened, the room breathed with them.
By the closing track, the audience had transformed from curious onlookers into a fully engaged force. This was no ordinary support performance.
The Last Dinner Party: theatre, ferocity and catharsis
A pulse of anticipation buzzed in the air. Then came the eruption. The Last Dinner Party arrived with the choral power of “Agnus Dei,” immediately reshaping the venue into something between a cathedral and a riot.
Swathed in rich lighting and soaring sound, the band delivered cinematic scale: orchestral flourishes, ferocious guitars, thunderous percussion. Every note felt deliberate. Every surge pushed the room higher.
Control and chaos in perfect collision
“The Scythe” came with muscular intent, powering the crowd forward.
“Sinner” swaggered in its decadent glory, the audience gladly submitting to the heat of it.
Then “My Lady of Mercy” softened the room into a collective ache, only for “Nothing Matters” to erupt as the final full-band release before encore.
The arena didn’t just sing along; it shouted back every word.
A ritualistic finale
Returning for the encore, “This Is the Killer Speaking” commanded focus and frenzy in equal measure, before the closing reprise of “Agnus Dei” brought the night full circle. Shared catharsis, voices hoarse, hearts thumping.
Two acts accelerating into the future
This wasn’t simply a headliner and a support. It was a double vision of where alternative music is heading:
Imogen and the Knife: futuristic intensity, emotional vulnerability, electric poise
The Last Dinner Party: lavish drama, rock-opera ambition, unstoppable momentum
Brighton didn’t just witness two great sets.
It watched two bands leveling up before its eyes.
