Goonies Never Say Die
One thing is clear from the off: Condor don't give a shit what decade it is. Their apathy towards the present day is matched only by their love of tight jeans and antiquated denim jackets, and coming from the same small Norwegian town that just happens to have spawned Darkthrone and various other evil bastards, that's no big surprise.
To anybody who approved of Darkthrone's continued regression to the era of true metal with the impressive The Underground Resistance earlier this year: Condor could very well be right up your Norwegian flagpole. Part of the Kolbotn Thrashers Union (which basically means they're from Kolbotn and play in a metal band), the trio's sound embraces the old-school like a horny dog embracing its master's leg; ironically refreshing for a band barely out of their teens.
If this self-titled debut album is a step-up from 2011 EP Speedwagon, it's only really because there are more songs than before. Speed metal riff after speed metal riff are carved out with youthful enthusiasm and precision, and the end result is nine slabs of unrelenting, primeval blackened thrash metal to sink your teeth into.
The purposefully archaic, old-school-uber-alles production is hardly a gigantic bombshell, but the overly restrained, almost too-clean output takes something away from the enjoyment of such retro rock'n'roll rebellion, rather than adding to the chaotic sense of pure heavy metal bedlam that fellow countrymen Deathhammer embrace so gloriously. Condor's grubby, unrestrained, blackened heavy metal sound needs dragging down into the mire instead of out of it; here it finds itself so stiflingly one-dimensional and retro-clean that adding a whole bucket-load of grit would do the songs a whole lot of good.
This isn't the sound of a band trying too hard to be retro; this is the sound of a band who refuse to believe that any time has passed since 1981 and Timmy Mallet is still on the telly. This is half an hour of full-on blackened and time-worn speed metal, channelled through a band who have just made many men twice their age look a bit rubbish in comparison.
Nothing particularly stands out, but then nothing really needs to. For once it's just great to see a young band not caring about contemporary influences and playing some old-school, balls-out thrash metal. Turn it on, turn it up, grab your leather jacket, grab a beer, and headbang like a goon until it's over. Now who's going to break the news to them that cassettes are coming back into fashion?