More about: For Those I Love

“I can feel it in this room”. It's a phrase that David Balfe aka For Those I Love repeats often during his appearance at Manchester's Deaf Institute. His self-titled album of anguished grief and recovery set to nocturnal dance beats still rings in the ears of those who have heard it since its release this past spring, and now it's getting the live treatment.

He’s onto something too, there is something in this room. 

The outside chill of a Manchester Sunday evening is combatted by the literal and spiritual warmth inside the sold-out show, where Balfe’s brutally honest expression of love and loss is welcomed with open arms and tear-stained cheeks. An opening set from folk musician Jordan O’Leary leaves the audience limbered up thanks to a rendition of 'The Rocky Road to Dublin', before Jackson C Frank's 'Blues Run The Game' appropriately re-adjusts the mood for the headline act. 

Frank will close the show, too, in a way: a sample of his 'Crying Like a Baby' concludes the final For Those I Love track 'Leave Me Not Love' and his tender voice halts us back down to earth as Balfe leaps off the stage, the microphone smashed on the floor and left in a heap of scattered flowers, the tank completely empty. 

It is the violent conclusion to an incredible expansion of the album, with every emotion found on For Those I Love amplified; if the record was like listening to someone’s diary entry, then this was as though they had sat down facing you and read it aloud whilst looking you dead in the eyes.

The sparse set up—Balfe and a microphone in front of projected screen of home movies, camera phone footage and music video segments—leaves his statement inescapable; totally thrilling but unflinchingly honest. 

Album opener 'I Have a Love' sounds almost anthemic live, the heavy sadness in 'The Myth/I Don’t' is even more agonising to listen to, and 'Top Scheme' sees Balfe spit his words out at such a rapid-fire rate it seems like he might jolt out of his own skin at any moment. Even the poppier moments such as 'Birthday/ The Pain' garner a boost; its euphoric chorus sees the floor rocked with shuffling feet.

The album's mantra—“I have a love, and it never fades”—repeats throughout the set, tinged with a different tones; anger, pain, pride, love, and yet every time it’s belted back at Balfe from the crowd with equal energy. At times appearing genuinely taken aback by the reaction, his eyes wide at the scene before him: those on the floor below spurring him on with cries, whoops, and cheers, holding him up as he continues to give everything. At one point someone climbs the stage, simply to hold him, kiss his head and then return back to the pit of outstretched arms below. 

Balfe’s words may be distinctly personal, but the message of For Those I Love is universal, and the proof is found here in The Deaf Institute on this night—I, too, could feel it in that room.

More about: For Those I Love