Nils Frahm pushes his music to breaking point at the Roundhouse

2013’s Spaces was a live album. But if it wasn’t for the occasional burst of applause, you’d easily forget it, with each arrangement so carefully crafted and realised that it seemed impossible for them to be unfolding all at once. More than just a solo artist, Frahm revels in his independence, writing and performing his songs, and even at times, building the instruments. And when you have complete dominion over the entire process, the options for what music can be and the way it can make people feel are endless.

“I feel the stage is more than just where you put your instruments, it’s where you can do whatever you feel like”, Frahm told Pitchfork earlier this year. And the stacks and stacks of equipment on stage, ranging from sequencers, keyboards, a grand piano and more could provide enough work for two full bands.

Most of his songs establish these short, melodic motifs very quickly and then builds around them, slowly pulling in the abrasiveness of dance music, like a thundering kick drum or a piercing synth, as they steadily progress. Tonight (25th May), Watching Frahm bound between each instrument as he sequences and loops the parts that make up these songs, you can feel the physicality of it. Every note or phrase is a result of an assertive motion from Frahm himself. He doesn’t just perform the music, he doesn’t just write it; Frahm builds these songs piece by piece until they are these towering, grand structures. It really is a blistering spectacle, capable of provoking these moments of rapture out of a single chord change or a small crescendo.

There are times where he plays the piano and it feels like the keys can only be unlocked by his hands, squeezing every last bit of expression out of each note. The soft, minimal “Ode”, with its steady melodic movement, creates these little pockets of silence, allowing the residue of each phrase to hang in the air before moving onto the next. He is a wonderfully expressive pianist, turning often simple passages into these deep, generous pools of emotion. It’s why he was able to release an album of just piano solos (‘Solo’) a year after the challenging, boundary-pushing Spaces.

The familiar, arpeggiated into of “Says” prompts cheers from all corners of the audience. And this song is a modern masterpiece, as Frahm carefully layers these broken, sharp electronics like a child building a tower out of his favourite toys. The song erupts into a web of synths and percussion, and just when you think it’s reached its peak, Frahm returns to the grand piano to hammer these gorgeous, warm chords, as if to remind us that under all this technical prowess, music is still at the heart. Frahm leaves the stage dripping with sweat and struggling for breath, and you get the feeling that these performances never get any easier for him.

He would be well within his right to recruit a touring band to share the load, leaving him to just the piano stool as other musicians take care of the rest. The songs would still sound as good, but that’s not what tonight’s show is about. We are watching a musician operating at the top of his threshold, pushing himself, almost to breaking point, to completely embody his music, as if each song is his creation that requires his complete supervision for them to truly flourish as was intended.