Corridor - Mimi (LP) - Loser Edition Pink Vinyl

If you’ve ever fallen for a record because of how the guitars seemed to twist around each other like ivy, Corridor’s Mimi will feel like a familiar crush that turns into something deeper. The Montreal quartet released Mimi on 26 April 2024 through Sub Pop, and it lands with the kind of confidence that comes from years of quietly sharpening your tools. They’re still singing in French, still allergic to obvious payoffs, yet there’s a glow to these songs that makes them jump out of the speakers even if you don’t catch every lyric on first pass.

Corridor have always thrived on tension between precision and play. On Mimi, those interlocking guitars feel even more aerodynamic, with clean lines that dart and weave rather than bludgeon. Riffs don’t so much underline a chorus as tease it from the edges, while the rhythm section nudges everything forward with a motorik patience that never turns stiff. You can hear the band leaning into space and light, letting notes hang just long enough to blur into each other, then snapping everything back into focus. Compared with Junior from 2019, this one sounds sleeker, with little fountains of synth and percussion colouring the corners, but it never loses that wiry backbone that made their earlier work so addictive.

There’s a distinctive Montreal mood here, the late night hum of a city that gets by on art and cold air. The vocals ride the beat with a calm, slightly wry delivery, like a friend telling you a story on a long tram ride. Even if your French is rusty, the phrasing carries real bite and warmth. Corridor write melodies that feel like they’ve been sanded smooth over months of rehearsal, then tucked into odd angles just to keep you listening close. Hooks arrive sideways. The reward is in the accumulation, little motifs returning in different colours, rhythms tilting just enough to change your footing.

Production-wise, Mimi is crisp without being brittle, and that matters. Guitars are panned in a way that makes them converse across the room, the bass has a round, slightly rubbery path through the mids, and the drums snap cleanly, no mud. It is the kind of soundstage that flatters vinyl, which is why the Mimi vinyl pressing has been a go-to demo disc at more than one Melbourne record store I’ve visited this winter. Spin it loud and you’ll catch those chiming overtones shimmering at the edge, a small reminder of how the format still sells the physical heft of a band in a room.

There’s also a gentle playfulness that peeks through the arrangements. Small keyboard figures flit in and out, backing vocals sneak up like a grin. Corridor understand restraint, so when the songs bloom, it feels earned. They never chase a big singalong, but they do give you phrases and guitar shapes you will hum absentmindedly for days. That balance between cool poise and a sneaky emotional pull is the record’s real trick. It keeps you coming back, hearing new joins and seams each time.

Mimi has already drawn nods across the indie press for good reason, yet it also works on a basic, body level. This is walk-around-the-neighbourhood music, windows cracked, the steady pulse getting your stride right. It is also a late night headphone record, the layers lining up neatly as you focus on one instrument at a time. If you fell for post-punk’s current sparkle but crave more melody and less gloom, this scratches that itch. And if you’re building out a shelf of Corridor albums on vinyl, this sits proudly next to Junior and the earlier Montréal releases, a clear step forward without any showy gestures.

Hunting for a copy is part of the fun. Corridor vinyl tends to disappear fast in the local racks, so if you can’t find Mimi vinyl near you, it is painless to buy Corridor records online from trusted shops that ship across the country. Plenty of stores focused on vinyl records Australia wide have kept it in stock, and it is the sort of record that feels right to own physically, sleeve scuffs and all, so you can drop the needle whenever the urge hits.

A smart, luminous set from a band that keeps refining its voice, Mimi rewards patience while offering instant pleasures. It is the sound of Corridor tightening the screws, letting light in, and trusting the listener to meet them halfway. On a good turntable, it sings.