f you were classically trained on a string instrument, you should’ve headed up to Montreal six years ago. It seems like every band birthed in the jewel of the St. Lawrence River in this millennium demands some symphonic swagger for their work. But your window of opportunity is closing fast. That Montreal sound is being worn into the ground by a slew of Godspeed You! Black Emperor-affiliated side projects. If you can’t make it before the wave of artistic creativity officially crests, I don’t recommend that you, lonely violist, listen to Hangedup. It would hurt you too much. Not only does cellist Genevieve Heistek play in Hangedup, she fronts the duo. Think of what could have been. . .

Along with Heistek, drummer Eric Craven comprises Hangedup. Now before you condemn the band as a staid coffeehouse project, let me tell you that the two share a (post)punk as fuck attitude (in that ultra-left, Montreal way), and that Heistek has an audio looper attached to her cello to add layers of distortion to the mix. The resultant clatter is rusty, unhinged, and consistently dramatic, if sometimes a bit self-consciously melodramatic.

The album starts well with “Kling Klang.” Here Craven unveils the muscular, militaristic drumming style that he’ll employ on almost every track. Heistek coaxes an urgent Eastern-Europe-inflected melody from the cello, and the looper does its business in the background, so that cello plays against cello in a buzzing-bee frenzy. The track brims with energy from the start, and though it doesn’t stray from the frantic tempo, it contains enough mini-crescendos and rhythmic changeups to keep the listener engaged.

“Alarm” captures one of the problems of the disc. The track opens with a deep, looped cello-siren bellow that should be paired with equally pensive drumming from Craven. Instead he launches into manic drumming immediately, and as a result the drone loses its tension, and the drumming sounds labored and out of place. The track recovers somewhat as Heistek slowly summons an eerie din of squeals from the cello to match the frothing drumming, but the wasted first two minutes loom over the song. Craven sure can drum, but he feels the need to prove it almost every track, so that his drumming often sounds like an exercise in dexterity rather than an integrated part of the music.

“A Different Kind of Function” shows a slower-but-by-no-means-relaxed Hangedup. In this track, Heistek plays a more traditional, mournful cello while the looper lays a bed of string fragments for her languorous bow-work to rest on. Here, Craven demonstrates rare restraint to great effect. He chips the cymbals quietly for the first couple minutes, before hesitantly beginning a propulsive-but-not-overdriven bass drum funeral stomp. The track ends with a slow cello fade that hovers somewhere between soothing and harrowing.

Now I’m told that Clatter for Control is Hangedup’s most melodic work to date, and if that’s true, the group must’ve kicked up a serious racket in their previous releases, because half the tracks here are unnecessarily abrasive and decidedly not melodic. While I don’t expect Heistek to play a rousing overture on her cello every piece, the noisier tracks (“Kick-Back-Hub,” “Eksplozije,” “Derailleur,” and “Fuck This Place”) are burdened by self-conscious experimentation. Long awkward squawks and crunchy cello noise do not make me think that Hangedup is a “serious” band. They make more compelling noise when they’re not trying so hard to be in my face.

Especially when a wonderful track like “Go Lets Go,” sandwiched between two clunkers, takes a fascinating step towards danceability. On this track, Heistek plays a hopeful near-jig on her cello and Craven lightens up on the Sturm und Drang to play a loose, yet locked groove. Not only does the track break from the brooding mood of the disc, it is positively fun.

If Hangedup were enjoying themselves more on this release, rather than trying to fit in with the moody GY!BE post-rock kids and the new chic noise kids, Clatter for Control would be a special release. Hangedup sounds totally unique, and they’re capable of making music without referents, but too often they sound like a lite version of something already done better.