It's telling that Eric Craven and Geneviève Heistek are credited as "sticks" and "bows", respectively, on Clatter To Control's sleeve: the complex sound worlds contained in their 43-minute fantastic voyage seem to emphasize music making, and its tools, as part of a process rather than as a matter of instrumental execution. The use of violin and viola might lead the unsuspecting listener to points of reference like The Dirty Three, but the intense buildups and the maddening vortexes of scalding noise will sometimes make you think of other crushing duos like, say, Lightning Bolt, or, more appropriately, Noxagt's demonic crescendos, only with that weird, serene quality normally found on the Constellation roster. Over the course of ten robust tracks, this dynamic duo successfully pushes the envelope, startling listeners with extraordinary demonstrations of what can be achieved within the strict constraints of a drums and viola format. The pummeling beats, dire fractals of booming polyrhythms, stress the procedures with such solemn authority, you'd be tempted to think a hyperactive octopus was taught the stentorian drum programmming of Godflesh's Streetcleaner or Big Black's Songs About Fucking.

The distorted "Klang Klang" (would that be a perverse reference to Kraftwerk?) and the aptly titled "Alarm" set the album's general tone: aural mayhem, controlled frenzy, tight-as-a-bitch structures, blurry slabs of monstrous improvisation alternate in carefully formulated doses. The viola's particular timbral qualities (Warning: this reviewer is a technical neophyte on the subject of violas and violins, so you should approach the following with caution) play a significant role in the construction of nightmarish Expressionistic atmospheres, mainly thanks to the open possibilities for glissandi on the instrument's fretless fingerboard and the physical (but also psychological) friction provided by the use of the bow itself. Both elements, strategically augmented by a looping system, generate a truly wicked racket. This experimental approach is best exemplified in "Fuck This Place", probably the album's strongest track, which benefits from the guest bass vulgarity lent with malicious abandon and brilliance by Harris Newman (from Sackville, another wild bunch of Constellation conspirators); Gen even screams into her viola pickup to make things more hair-rising! The use of classical string instruments has normally been more associated with elegance and sobriety (think VU's graceful "Stephany Says"), probably due to the angelic perceptions and myths built around them (for example, it is said that a religious epiphany inspired the creation of the violin), but it's fair to remember that they also have a dark side (popular belief was that world-famous virtuoso Paganini had made a pact with the devil in order to secure his almost inhuman performing talents). This wonderful record was born out of just such a fascinating duality, and also of the temptation of recklessness. Let's not forget that the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.