Nils Frahm, The Roundhouse, London
- Written by Nick Levine
Nils Frahm is an artist who commands your attention. Prior to his performance the Roundhouse is scattered with signs telling the audience to remain quiet, at the request of the artist.
As pretentious as this may seem, Frahm is a musician whose output requires the listener’s full attention. His music, like the layout of stage at the Roundhouse, is relatively simple in its design. Its beauty is revealed as much in the gaps between the notes as in the music itself. The layout of the sparse stage consists of a piano, some computer equipment and synths, and a small collection of wooden structures.
Before Frahm takes to the stage there is a sense of palpable expectation from the crowd, which is best demonstrated by a collective “shushing” noise when it soon become apparent that the composer will soon be taking to the stage.
Frahm’s setlist consists of a selection of tracks from his latest album, Solo, a collection of beautiful instrumental led-piano tracks, and a handful of songs from his back catalogue. Frahm opens with with Ode and Some. The two compositions, are already well-known bedfellows to Frahm’s devotes, due to them being the two openers on Solo. They demonstrate the most tender side to Frahm’s output and pack a mighty emotional punch.
During the set the audience holds their silence for the duration of the piano-led songs, and erupt into a sea of noise at their cessation. This trend is only bucked during the more uplifting songs in Frahm’s cannon such as Says. During the latter the crowd whoop themselves in to a collective cheer which increases in intensity in order to match the euphoric build up of this slightly clubby track. Its emotive synths go down a treat.
Frahm performs unaccompanied, and midway through the set announces that a couple of the instruments used in the production were constructed by him personally.
His interactions with the crowd are reasonably limited but when he does so he is able to demonstrate a dry and self deprecating sense of humour. Introducing himself midway through the set, he takes to the microphone and makes a joke about how he has been looking forward to playing London more than any other city. He then quickly follows this up by wittily acknowledging that he says this interchangeably with other cities at all of his other shows.
The concert closes with Toilet Brushes, a composition which perhaps demonstrates Frahm’s prodigious talent best. The piano based song builds into a beautiful and frantic crescendo, with Frahm playing the keys with increasing dexterity and rigour.