Tickets available from SeeTickets.View Tickets
COVID-19 SAFETY POLICY:
In accordance with The City of Philadelphia’s current mandate, MilkBoy will require all guests and staff to be fully vaccinated against COVID-19 for this event. A printed, digital or hard copy of a guest’s vaccination card must be provided upon entry as proof of vaccination. At this time, negative test results will not be accepted.
When not eating or drinking, MilkBoy kindly asks that all guests please wear a face mask for their own protection & the safety of our staff, community, and the artists performing on our stages.
Corridor at MilkBoy
Friday, April 1st, 2022
7:30 PM Doors // 8:30 PM Show // 21+
Website // FB // IG
Singers, two guitars, bass, drums: the timelessness of the setup underpins the timelessness of the sound, a rock’n’roll borrowing from each of the past six decades—punk and pop, psych and jangle, daydream and swoon. This is music that’s muscular, exciting and full of love, its riffs a kind of medicine. Whereas Corridor’s past work could sometimes seem overstuffed, twenty ideas to the same song, the new work is hypnotic, distilled. “Part of the beauty of the thing is that we didn’t have time to think about it,” says Berthiaume. Six of Junior’s 10 tracks were conceived during a single weekend. The words to “Bang” were written on the eve of the sessions, as Robert began to panic: “Je payerai tôt ou tard,” he sings: I’ll pay, sooner or later. Fewer jams, fewer overdubs—no fortnight in the countryside, secluding themselves in a chalet. Even the artwork came in the nick of time: in spite of other, meticulous, masterpieces, Robert’s “shitty last-minute collage” (of an egg saying hello) was the one his bandmates went for.
That might be Corridor’s best trick—their mixture of seriousness and whimsy. Songs like “Miscroscopie” and the standout “Domino” are purposeful, full of songcraft, even as they let loose, slip their collar. “Topographe“‘s all call and answer, like rival Cupids shooting arrows at each other across a ravine. “Pow” and “Goldie” are like hurtling racecars, or teams of horses, accelerating towards a memory. And Junior’s title track—by turns twitchy and anthemic—is in fact a tribute to Perreault, their “joueur étoile,” star player: in spite of his disappointed parents (“parents déçus”), he’s Corridor’s VIP. Junior’s ten tracks are filled with tributes like this, impressionistic portraits of characters in the band-members’ lives. Their tone is affectionate, the meaning hazy—even if you speak French.