Having split in 1987 after a steady release of five albums, Denis reformed the band in 1999 and Clivages is their fourth album since. In addition to Denis, it features just one other original member – Michel Berckmans – whose bassoon and oboe helped to forge and now sustain their unique sound. Berckmans wrote the three most traditionally classical of Clivages’ tracks: ‘Vacillements’ (Waverings) does what its title suggests and sets restless passages for violin, oboe and clarinet tip-toeing in and out of each other with a sprightly gait, while ‘Apesanteur’ (Weightlessness) doesn’t quite succeed in floating, preferring a fast-paced chamber ensemble with added bass and drums suitable for accompanying a time-cheating montage. His last piece, ‘Retour do Foire’, sounds straight out of a period crime drama as wind and strings gently build intrigue as a tragic mystery unfolds.

Another member from the early days, Andy Kirk, writes possibly the most immediately engaging track of Clivages’ hour. ‘Warrior’ begins and ends with a clattering and bowing of metal before a violin extends an Eastern refrain until a doomy atmosphere is completed by a tight but loping rhythm section. Suddenly with a percussive flourish, Kirk’s guitar (a sparsely used instrument on this album) kicks off an exquisitely pompous bit of prog that propels itself through peaks of freak-out noodling giving the whole band the chance to cast awkward angles that skronk, hit, slice and heave themselves through a series of tricksy time signatures.

Newcomer Kurt Budé writes a couple of contrasting pieces – ‘Three Days’ is a fragmentary, Stravinsky-styled call and response exercise between violin and woodwind and ‘Straight Edge’, a jazz-fueled journey with an exotic violin and a mysterious piano, builds surprisingly into the porno wah-wah of a cop chase theme.

Denis own contributions also remind of cinematic car chases: a stealthy dramatic theme is to be found on the opener, ‘Les Kobolds’, seamlessly merging with baroque and gypsy dances, while ‘Soubresauts’ (Sudden Starts) even has a Hill Street Blues-like piano refrain to join his rim-riding cymbals in describing speeding vehicles magically dodging all oncomers. His other two tracks, ‘Earth Scream’ and ‘Les Cercles d’Horus’ which closes the album, both feel anecdotal in their brevity yet recreate the dark experimentation of their early days by discarding the studied forms born of ivory towers that make so much of this beautifully recorded album seem so fidgety and complicated.