While I enjoy a diverse range of music, guitar-driven pop-rock will always hold a special place in my heart. Not only is it the stuff I was raised on, but the good stuff never feels old or dated. Instead, it feels like a warm sonic blanket – comfortable and comforting, yet never reductive or retrograde.
However, walking that tenuous tightrope requires deft musicianship and clever songwriting on behalf of the band. You want it to sound familiar, but you don’t want to be a copycat. Moreover, you want to use your own voice while using a time-tested language, vocabulary, and syntax.
It’s not about finding your own hook. It’s about writing hooks that make people say, “I recognize that sound, but this artist has puts its own spin on it, and I like it!”
That, dear readers, is exactly what I find so appealing about the music of Corvair.
It definitely helps that the group is technically a husband-and-wife duo. It’s obvious that Brian Naubert and Heather Larimer are used to communicating as part of their long-term life partnership. It’s also a boon that the two of them have spent literal decades making quality indie rock in acts like Ruston Mire, Eux Autres, and The Service Providers. They know their way around bouncy rhythms, solid grooves, and crafting an emotional center.
With this self-titled debut album on Paper Walls and WIAIWYA, the couple used their collective downtime in 2020 to pen ten glistening tunes. Let’s set aside obvious comparisons to Mates of State, She & Him, and even the Carpenters. I want to dissect how they distilled 40-plus years of radio-friendly alternative rock into a crisp 45 minutes.
It all starts with an authenticity that’s familiar, believable, and undeniable. You can hear the connection in the wonderful harmonies Naubert and Larimer have fashioned. Each song sounds like a conversation between two old lovers, complete with inside jokes and well-trodden stories.
But the best part is that the listener doesn’t feel left out. The couple is excited to regale you with their conversation.
From there, inventive ‘70s folk rock merges with ‘90s alternative rock panache. With “Oceansided,” you hear Tom Petty and Lisa Loeb fronting Gin Blossoms. “Sailor Down” imagines Shawn Colvin crooning over Big Star grooves. And on “Three Stars,” we hear Patty Griffin taking charge of Toad the Wet Sprocket. Yet, despite those seemingly over-the-top comparisons, the entire project is infused with a sensitive and sweet subtlety that allows the duo to forge their own path.
It’s all tied together by the absolutely resplendent production. I’ve already mentioned the lovely harmonies, and they’re paired with crisp drumming, bright guitars, and sparkling synths. Everything sounds so sharp, clear, and strong in my ears. It’s the sort of straight ahead rock you used to hear on the radio, but without irony, nihilism, or jaded angst.
Who knew that it was still possible to make earnest, upbeat pop music in the 21st century?
Ultimately, you can never go wrong with a personal record that you also want to share with others. It also helps when you embrace whip-smart pop-rock from across the years and do so without blatant revivalism.
Corvair the duo make it work because they haven’t steeped themselves in nostalgia or navel-gazing. Yes, the album is a love letter to their influences and careers, but Naubert and Larimer face the future with their music-making. They understand that you can’t create in a vacuum, so they’ve summarized the music in their bones and made something fun and fresh out of it. That will always be a winning formula for my ears.