Unraveling Corridor

Montreal-based band Corridor releases their album, Junior, today out on Sub Pop Records

I am writing this on a fuzzy Sunday afternoon. My partner drags themselves into the living room after sleeping in and plops down next to me. And that’s it. We sit, and I write, and we listen to Corridor on repeat. These moments are possibly the best times to hear the Montreal based band. On a Sunday in front of a window, as the train moves, when purposefully taking the long way on a walk. All the places that help move you, that help you close the distance. As Corridor are francophones, I don’t understand a word they’re saying. But I’d argue that none of us need to to properly appreciate Junior, the band’s debut album out on Sub Pop records. They are curious observers of the world and those who live on it which gives the album a distinct affection, the titular track being an ode to one of their own guitarists Julian Perreault. Junior is an album that says look, look what I have done for you. The guitars on Junior are at times spastic, working with the synths to create a muscle contracting and then expanding outward, but their steeliness provides a rich vibration. The album brightly navigates angst as vocalists (among other instruments) Dominic Berthiaume and Jonathan Robert sing about their friend “in spite of his disappointed parents” ("parents déçus"). It’s those moments that allow Junior to feel so personal despite the cavernous soundscape it exists in. You’re not invited to analyze the album so much as fully embrace the sound and the people it hovers around. There is both whimsy and intentful contemplation on Junior. Bathed in bright feedback it swirls around the room, abundant. It’s kept motivated by the tight percussion of Julien Bakvis, whose detailed drumming helps build momentum; the dominating bass line of Berthiaume helps steer. Robert’s synths are mesmerizing, giving the album an intricate grace. It’s voidless. There is still an undeniable craft that’s neat and confident. The language barrier is apparent, but it becomes more dissolvable the longer you listen. That might be the true trick and charm of the album, it’s masterful and pulled together, but unravels easily to joy. And those moments of reveal are freeing, placing creators and listeners on an even ground. Like their name suggests, Corridor knows that distance can have a wide mouth, but they are darting and dodging through thresholds of the tongue. Junior is a barreling daydream closing the gap between us.