Simmons never really seems to overstep his lyrical boundaries, and his intermittent moments of scathing simplicity seem to impossibly just work, like in the chugging/twinkling/anthemic "I Tore You Apart in My Head": " Fuck what you told me. The opening quarter picks up steam as it goes along, winding from the uncomfortable cynicism of "Void" through to Simmons' remote optimism and sprained dynamics of the title track, and finally to the serrated, throat-searing chorus for the appropriately titled "Quake". It moves with a dark and unpredictable atmosphere, stacked with layers of intertwining guitars, booming drums and the occasionally showy, rhythmic trick, all balled into an effortless, continual rustle by producer Brian McTernan that's nonetheless compelling at every lowly and commiserating turn. It's practically a workout–thick and often overwhelmingly dense, drawn out to deliberate proportions. Separation is a heady, physically and emotionally draining 48 minutes of raw introspection and alternately vague soul searching, a smooth yet bitter blend of alternative/indie rock and post-hardcore. That being said, Balance and Composure have crafted an astounding and often depressing full-length debut that is otherwise theirs and theirs to own. Okay, granted, the band's first proper full-length, Separation bears a handful of isolated moments that show its influences bleeding through: Nirvana's moody, nasal reverberations murmur in "Fade" and opener "Void" Simmons' self-referentialism in gorgeous ballad "Stonehands" features an exaggerated stress of the "e" in "me," a clear paean to Jeff Mangum's unique enunciations the opening riff to "Galena" lifts that of Jawbreaker's "Chemistry" and late entry "Echo" refits Brand New's "The No Seatbelt Song" into a newly unnerving frame. Still, it's somewhat ironic, then, that he's the literal interpretation of an oft-used metaphor that only used to describe his band.
Hell, Separation's cover art, unintentionally or not, hints at it as well, even if the sun replacement references the thematic, skyward tilt of its contents.
The leading vocalist/guitarist of Balance and Composure sports a tattoo squarely on his muscle in honor of Neutral Milk Hotel's 1998 classic, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Unfortunately, most of tonight’s concertgoers are leaning on the bar or yet to arrive during Queen Of Jeans's set, so their grace is only appreciated by a small but rapt portion of the evening's crowd.Jon Simmons wears his influence on his sleeve–literally. Their dreamy harmonies and spooky vocals bounce around the room, creating an all-encompassing atmosphere that gives the devoted listener goosebumps. Queen of Jeans are always a terrific addition to this sort of line-up, having toured with Balance And Composure quite a few times in the past. Some fans ditch their smoke break to indulge in openers Queen of Jeans and Superheaven, but the fenced area doesn’t fully empty out until Balance And Composure go on - understandable, given that it's their second-to-last show ever. In between sets, the smoking section feels more populated than the venue, overflowing with fans clad in black band T-shirts and leather, leading security to continually add more barriers to hold in all the miscreants. The Fillmore in Philadelphia is packed with so many nostalgic emos and goths of all sizes that it looks like a Hot Topic ad incarnate.
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