Balancing Act’s “Who’ve You Come As?”: A Confessional in Melody and Mystery

Words by Martyna Rozenbajgier

Picture this: a smoky East London pub on a Thursday night — low ceilings, flickering lights, and the kind of October chill that makes everything feel a little cinematic. Inside The Cavendish Arms, a crowd of chosen few are clutching pints, waiting. Not just for a gig, but for something closer to a séance — a quiet unveiling of Balancing Act’s new era.

Photos by Wiktoria Wolny

Hours before their album Who’ve You Come As? (Part 1) hit streaming platforms, the London quartet invited a handful of vinyl pre-order winners to an intimate, secret show. It was less “industry event” and more “confessional in candlelight.”

The band opened with six of the seven new tracks — Quebec being the only one left backstage — and from the first chord, it felt like walking into someone else’s dream. Each song was drenched in emotion, somewhere between heartbreak and revelation. The crowd didn’t just listen — they leaned in, as if decoding a diary read aloud.

Then came the nostalgia. The second half of the set turned into a sweaty, loud love letter to the fans who’ve been there since the early EPs. Six classic tracks later, the room was a collective blur of voices, beer, and something like euphoria. Balancing Act didn’t just perform — they transformed the pub into their own world: equal parts melancholy, mystery, and mad joy.

If Tightropes and Limericks were their promise, Who’ve You Come As? (Part 1) is their proof — a cinematic, emotionally layered record that sounds like self-discovery set to melody.

The title comes from a Mancunian phrase: “Who’ve you come as?” — the kind of cheeky question you’d ask a friend who shows up dressed like a fever dream. For Balancing Act, it’s a playful but loaded provocation. Who are they now, after years of build-up, heartbreak gigs, and whispered buzz? This album doesn’t just ask that question — it tries to answer it in real time.

It opens with Talks A Lot, a slow burn that feels like a curtain being lifted. Hushed verses, a cinematic chorus — you can almost hear the band calibrating their next chapter as it unfolds. Then there’s Scar, the undeniable centrepiece — bittersweet and bold, all soaring guitars and aching vocals. It’s the kind of track that belongs to sunset festival fields and 2 a.m. afterthoughts alike. Kai Roberts sings like someone reliving something, not performing it.

And then, because Balancing Act never met a genre boundary they didn’t want to bend, there’s Bonneville Salt Flat Jive — theatrical, unhinged, a little bit Bowie if he’d grown up in Hackney. It’s proof that indie can still have personality, that weird can still be cool.

Had Another Mare and Mr Handsome bring things back down to earth, spinning small, anxious stories that sound like journal entries disguised as lyrics. They’re not polished — and that’s exactly the point. Balancing Act wear their seams proudly, and somehow that imperfection feels romantic.

By the time Quebec drifts in, things slow to a haunting hush — wide, cinematic space you could almost drown in. It leads perfectly into The Breaks, a melancholic finale that doesn’t crash but lingers. Piano, strings, and a sigh of a closing line. Not every ending has to explode; some just quietly stay with you.

What makes Who’ve You Come As? (Part 1) work so well is its cohesion — the way each track feels distinct but somehow threaded together, like scenes from one big, introspective film. You can hear echoes of The 1975’s cinematic pop, The Last Dinner Party’s drama, maybe a touch of Blossoms’ Northern storytelling — but Balancing Act twist it all into something unmistakably theirs.

It’s a record about identity — trying on versions of yourself and realising none of them quite fit, but that the trying is the art itself. It’s melancholic without self-pity, ambitious without ego. And that’s a rare balance.

At their secret show, the band looked like they knew it too — finally comfortable in the weird, beautiful in-between of who they were and who they’re becoming. If this is only Part 1, then Part 2 might be their moment.

Until then, Who’ve You Come As? feels like the sound of a band meeting themselves halfway — and inviting the rest of us to listen in.

Photos by Wiktoria Wolny