Evile, Britain's major contribution to the thrash metal revival, debuted in 2007 with Enter the Grave, a very strong work that echoes the straightforward but deceptively complex structures of very early Metallica while hinting at further prog-structural wankery to come. 2009's Infected Nations followed through on that promise, stretching the songs out to six-to-eight minutes and introducing the time changes of late-80s Metallica and the note-y, needling riffs that bands like Dark Angel were using in that era. All that late-80s prog infusion failed to distinguish the band as an experimental presence, though; while Infected Nations was a very good, brutal album and a solid prog outing, it fell into the common prog metal trap of going through the motions of the prog genre's staples, which is the opposite of the experimentation that is supposedly the core value of progressive rock and metal. With their third album, Five Serpent's Teeth, Evile have apparently recognized that they're an original band but aren't reinventers, and have streamlined accordingly. The prog elements are still there, but the songs are shorter, the thrash has been re-emphasized, and the structures, while bold, aren't crying out to be noticed. By using the technical elements as components of a more concise thrash sound instead of stretching for genre reinvention, they've counterintuitively accomplished an album that is more appreciably original than Infected Nations was.

Evile still sound a lot like the mature Metallica, Testament and Dark Angel albums, which is good—the rest of the thrash revival has mostly mined the 1983-1987 era for inspiration, so it's refreshing that Evile are paying attention to the genre's often-overlooked achievements from roughly 1988-1992, when the technicality and political awareness were stepped up. They're not a glorified tribute band, though. Unique elements such as Matt Drake's incredibly powerful melodic growl; his brother Ol's thought-out, spiraling, nuanced guitar solos; and the band's penchant for sinister, high-tempo, two-or-three-note grooves break up the thrash-noodle-thrash patterns in way that by now is distinctly Evile. Their other defining trait, perhaps more realized here than ever before, is their ability to work together to control the dynamic flow of a song; those with a propensity for listening closely to detail will be rewarded by the way the drums and guitars respond to each other's subtle changes to skillfully manipulate each song's emotional rise-and-fall. More credit goes to Matt Drake's singing here, as well; he's learned to inject more anger into clean singing than anyone else in contemporary thrash, in a way that recalls James Hetfield as his absolute best.

The major flaw of Five Serpent's Teeth is its lack of immediately memorable riffs. This isn't damning; with songs that are this meticulously constructed, its often better to have riffs that are more functional, whose value becomes clear in the way they play off of each other throughout a piece. Nonetheless, a lot of people listen to thrash metal for those big Slayer-like moments when a riff grabs you by the face and screams its way into your brain, and that kind of presentational motif simply isn't present here. It's clear from everything from the composition to the attitude of the songs that Evile are courting fans with a more patient and cerebral approach to metal listening, which may alienate fans of the kill-em-all speedfreakery of Enter the Grave; but where Infected Nations made that approach feel unnecessarily ponderous, Five Serpent's Teeth gets it right, and is highly recommended to those who like to think about their thrash.