Renée Rapp creates rowdy tenderness at London's Roundhouse

It's the sort of powerful, personal pop that creates superstars. Words: Ali Shutler. Photos: Frances Beach.

Renée Rapp makes bold, cathartic pop that doesn't shy away from destructive melodrama ("As far as I'm concerned, they should burn the whole city down") and certainly isn't afraid of telling an ex-friend where to go ("Fuck you, you dumb bitch. Fuck you, fuck you"). Debut album 'Snow Angel' infuses those big emotions with a flickering warmth as she searches for positivity in the heartache.

Live, that spark quickly becomes an inferno, with Renée's straight-talking lyrics screamed back at every opportunity with guttural enthusiasm. Tonight's gig at London's Roundhouse opens with a series of home movies and photos of a young Renée alongside the promise that the seasons will change. There's sadness but resilient hope, which is very much the flavour of the evening.

The shimmering 'Talk Too Much' invites the audience to taste the blood in her mouth as she wrestles with her own happiness while 'Poison Poison' cuts venom with sugar. 'Willow' was written for her younger self, with sweet comfort shifting into abrasive fury via a snarling guitar solo before 'Bruises' showcases both vulnerability and fierce defiance.

There's the menacing 'Swim', the rain-soaked ballad 'I Hate Boston' and 'Gemini Moon', which was written about feeling uncertain in a new relationship. There's power to be found in every mood, and through it all, Renée creates a rowdy tenderness.

As much as tonight feels like a purge for both artist and audience, there's plenty of joy to be found in that shared experience, too. The chirping 'Pretty Girls' sees the stage covered in Pride flags, while the snotty karma-fuelled daydream of 'Tummy Hurts' sees support act Towa Bird take to the stage before the pair cover The Cranberries' trembling 'Linger'.

After wrestling with so much pain and confusion, 'Not My Fault' provides a moment of sheer, swaggering triumph, with her four-piece band handling Megan Thee Stallion's verse with a scrappy enthusiasm that only adds to the glee.

The main set ends with Renée Rapp performing 'Wedding Song' in front of a burning chapel, as she bounces between elation and crippling sadness but never surrenders to either, while a one-song encore of 'Snow Angel' sees her step up the theatricality.

Dressed all in white and performing in front of a giant pair of wings, with the stage doused in dry ice, Renée sings of trauma, addiction and hurt. She promises to endure no matter the cost, though, taking the audience on a wild, emotional ride that ends with a dash of confetti-strewn optimism.

It's the sort of powerful, personal pop that creates superstars.