The Blood Brothers have been doing its own thing from the beginning.

Not really paying attention to normalcy (or, indeed, the precedent the members set for themselves), they’ve been quietly gaining steam and somehow nearly making their chaotic brand of hardcore a household name. With “Young Machetes,” the group’s fifth album, members try to strike a balance between their crushing crowning achievement (2003’s astounding “Burn, Piano Island, Burn”) and pandering, self-indulgent experimentation (2004’s unimpressive “Crimes”). The results are mixed, but generally enjoyable.

Well, perhaps “enjoyable” isn’t the best adjective. The seemingly random assortment of thrashy drums, dissonant guitars, throbbing bass and incoherent screaming is decidedly not what many people consider enjoyable. But “entertaining” doesn’t quite cover all the bases and “intriguing” can carry very negative connotations. So “enjoyable” will have to do.

One thing that sticks out immediately is the importance of synthesizers in the music. The album’s strongest track, “Laser Life,” relies on a massive synth hook leading into Blood Brothers’ trademark brand of not-quite-under-control chaos.

Songs like “1, 2, 3, 4 Guitars” and “Nausea Shreads Yr Head” lean more toward “Crimes”-style experimentation, but “Rat Rider,” “Spit Shine Your Black Clouds” and especially “Camouflage, Camouflage” are guitar-and-keyboard-driven monsters, mixing moments of pure chaos and moments of perfect composition to achieve the band’s apparent goal of listener disorientation.

One area in which “Young Machetes” far exceeds any of its predecessors is that of the song titles.

While musically far from the band’s best or most interesting work, songs with names like “Set Fire To The Face On Fire,” “You’re The Dream Unicorn!” and, most notably, “Huge Gold AK-47” are guaranteed to spark at least vague curiosity out of the most straight-laced of listeners.

That said, straight-laced listeners will most likely not enjoy this band in the slightest.

There is little in the way of overt melody or hooks, the vocals sound vaguely like two boys being murdered, the album art is downright scary and the lyrics make little to no sense whatsoever. But anyone able to get past the density — past the crashing wall of noise — might be able to discover a band with undeniable talent. “Young Machetes” is nowhere near as heavy, powerful, or mind-blowing as “Burn, Piano Island, Burn,” but then again it’s hard to top an album like that.

So while they might be viewed as an atrocity by the majority of the musical community, at least they haven’t committed “Crimes” this time around.

Evan Thorne is a music critic for the Northern Star.