Ah, May at last. Oil temperatures are rising. Woodward Avenue is calling. Songbirds are calling.

We here at The Detroit News prefer a warble that sounds like King Kong gargling razor blades on Skull Island.

That would be the song of the Chevy Camaro ZL1 convertible, Motown’s latest, greatest droptop. The convertible is a sight for sore eyes and a roar for deafened ears. You probably felt it first, an earthquake that made your lights flicker when I stomped the throttle unleashing 640 pound-feet of torque on M1 Concourse’s Champion Motor Speedway just feet from hallowed Woodward ground.

After a long winter’s hibernation, the race track calls for the ZL1 like honey to a bear. It wasn’t always so. The ZL1 badge is the stuff of Camaro legend: rare “COPO” (Central Office Production Order) cars with huge, modified engines for drag racing. The ZL1 was Camaro’s quarter-miler, the Z28 its track star. But with Camaro’s marriage of Corvette’s 650-horsepower Z06 V-8 to GM’s Alpha chassis (shared by the apex-carving Cadillac ATS-V), the ZL1 coupe introduced last fall is an all-around athlete as comfortable in the twisties as it is in a straight line.

Call it a “Cormaro.” I shiver at the capabilities of the coming Z28.

But first, Camaro gives us the $69,135 ZL1 Convertible. How nice, you say. Another ragtop for Florida vacation rentals. But this is no rental-fleet floozy. It’s the coupe with a sun deck.

I first tested the hardtop at Willow Springs Raceway in December and it took to the big track like Kong to a banana grove. Put it on the small, 11/2-mile M1 and it’s like throwing Kong into a high school gymnasium. It can’t contain him.

Despite 12 inches of Goodyear F1 Supercar gummies on the rear, the ZL1 strains for traction when all horses are delivered through M1’s tight corners. I drift the beast across apexes on partial throttle, lest the 4,100-pound missile swap ends and start vectoring in the opposite direction. Even on M1’s curved front straight, I can’t bury the throttle (as I did in the AWD Audi R8 last year).

But M1’s Indy Lights-trained, Super Truck-racing, chief instructor Aaron Bambach is a wizard with the wheel. He takes the reins and drifts the beast at lurid angles.

“Very nice,” he observes after a string of laps. “Tight chassis and Goodyears really make this a nice track car.”

Um, Aaron, you know this is a convertible, right?

Like everything else about the sixth-generation Camaro, this one redefines the concept of muscle-car ragtop. Chevy leaves off the electronic, limited-slip differential (mechanical LSD is fine, thank you) and track timer (only crazy journalists will take it to the track, apparently). But still gets the coupe’s front splitter, magnetic shocks, rear airfoil, 11 heat exchangers — and the first application of GM’s Porsche-beating, 300-millisecond-shifting, manual-defying 10-speed automatic gearbox.

I’m a stick disciple, but the ZL1’s deca-tranny is a must-have.

Out of M1’s hairpin, I drop the hammer on the back straight and hang on. The 10-speed rips off shifts like rifle shots, while the quad-exhaust shatters windows in a 10-block radius. My jacket would have been torn off if M1 didn’t require that convertibles run with the top up. The end of the quarter-mile straight comes up in a heartbeat, the digital speedo clicking 125 mph before massive, 15.35-inch Brembos haul the ZL1 back to Earth.

“I could hear you all the way around the track,” says a pal back in the paddock. And in Ferndale, too, no doubt. The fun continues as we roll out of M1 and onto Woodward — going topless in 14 seconds up to 30 mph.

Stop at stoplight. Engage launch control: left foot floors brake, right foot floors throttle, tach steadies at 2,000 rpms. Release brake — and release the Kraken. Three-point-six seconds later we’re at 60 mph on our way to the moon.

Developed from the ground up to be convertible, the ZL1 soft top, like a Porsche Boxster, gives you aural thrills without chassis compromise. Gone is the cowl tremble of the fifth-generation Camaro convertibles. The Alpha chassis is a rock.

I cruised Woodward with the top down no matter what the temperature (hey, 48 degrees is a balmy Michigan April, no?) just to get the full audio experience. At low revs it’s a quiet cruiser. Put the throttle to the mat and it’s a glorious symphony. The rhythm of wind noise, the supercharger’s rising whine, the quad-pipe brass section — BRAAAAAPPPPP!

The soundtrack makes you forget the interior’s inconveniences.

Console storage is virtually non-existent and the door pockets are nearly in the child-sized backseat. The window ledges are so high that even your 6-foot-5 scribe’s elbow hangs awkwardly by his ear. And, unlike its cousin the Corvette, air vents are low in the console, so when I turn up the fan to keep the open cabin warm, most of the air gets blown on my knees.

But I rationalize the slights. Going topless eliminates the Camaro’s notorious visibility problem. And the rear seats are big enough to accommodate the neighborhood kids who pour from their homes for rides.

My friend Rick gave up his 2012 ZL1 for an Audi S4 a couple of years back. After a run in the Cormaro, he’s ready to go back. The convertible doesn’t come cheap at $7,000 more than the $62,135 coupe — and $8,500 north of a four-door ATS-V. But the Cadillac doesn’t come topless and the ZL1 will blow its doors off out of a stoplight.

“The new ZL1 is a different car than the fifth-gen,” Rick said after ripping off a couple launch-control starts from Woodward stoplights. It’s not the power — the old ZL1 had a healthy 580 horses — it’s the refinement (“the old car was loud all the time”) and the Alpha chassis (“noticeably firmer”). While the convertible is 200 pounds heavier than its coupe stablemate, that still makes it 37 pounds lighter than his old ZL1 coupe.

Rick is inclined to the sleek hardtop and its cheaper sticker. I’ll take the convertible for the audio experience.

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or Twitter @HenryEPayne.

2017 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 Convertible

Report card

Overall:★★★★

Welcome, dear reader, to another edition of “What’s it Worth to Ya?” It’s a little game I like to play comparing the ever-shrinking gap between luxury and mainstream brands.

We’ve played this game before with the Audi A4 and Ford Fusion. The latter’s roomier, more powerful, more affordable design really makes one think twice about paying a $15,000 premium for a four-ring grille.

C’mon, Payne, no one will ever cross-shop such cars.

Stay with me and you may reconsider.

Affordable electronics like heated seats and head-up displays are as easy to replicate in Mazdas as in Cadillacs. Meanwhile, five-door SUVs may be sweeping the planet for their practicality, but the resulting box-on-stilts restricts the tools available to designers to distinguish one brand from another. SUVs have turned dealer lots into the automotive equivalent of tract housing. How do you make your house stand out?

Take our compact-ute testers this week: the all-new, $34,000 2017 Mazda CX-5 and the $54,000 2017 Volvo XC60.

I won’t beat around the bush. The Mazda is the superior vehicle.

The XC60’s 2018 successor — introduced at last week’s New York Auto Show and due on dealer lots later this year — will finally get a platform upgrade after eight years on the U.S. market. It comes none too soon when you consider how the $20,000 cheaper Mazda has caught up — and often surpasses — the Volvo in metric after metric.

This is not to shame the Volvo, which is a lovely sculpture chiseled out of Scandinavian beech wood. Few luxury makes can hold a candle to the CX-5 in handling and design, not to mention value. Like its big brother, the CX-9 — the best-looking large SUV on planet Earth — the CX-5 is the prettiest, most athletic small ute this side of the seductive BMW X1. Dip it in Soul Red Chrystal paint and it’s more tempting than Elizabeth Hurley playing the devil in “Bedazzled.”

You feel the Mazda difference the moment you seize the steering wheel: It feels rooted to the pavement. It’s a sensation more often associated with a performance sedan. Not that the outgoing CX-5, which debuted in 2012, was a dog. Like Porsche’s SUVs and Panamera sedan, Mazda’s entire lineup is inspired by a sports car – in this case, the Miata. It’s a little like Mowgli being raised by wolves: He’s got their instincts. The CX-5’s father is Dave Coleman, a motorhead veteran of rally and sports car racing who also happens to be Mazda North America’s chief engineer.

Throw the CX-5 into an interstate cloverleaf and its Haldex-like AWD system bites like a Rottweiler on a postman’s leg. There’s push, sure — this is a front-wheel-drive biased chassis. But the finely tuned suspension (MacPherson strut up front, independent multi-link in rear) rotates with minimal body roll, tires protesting only at their limit. This little SUV thinks it’s a Miata.

The Mazda is not only the best-handling mainstream compact crossover, but it’s superior to everything short of high-performance crossovers like the Macan and Jaguar F-Pace. You’ll have to go a size smaller — subcompact utes like the BMW X1 or Audi Q3 — to find comparable handling. Yet even those vehicles are $10,000 north of the CX-5’s modest price tag.

The Volvo XC60, meanwhile, rolls leisurely through turns. Its steering chatters rather nervously as you approach the limit, then dissolves into a wail of tire screams as it senses the envelope’s edge.

Volvos have always been safety leaders and the XC60 is a Secret Service agent on wheels, always ready to protect with its state-of-the-art City Safety automatic braking. But the Mazda is hardly a potted plant: Using similar radar and camera tech, it is ready to intervene in perilous situations. The emergency-assist system isn’t standard like the Volvo’s, but the optioned Mazda still costs considerably less.

Volvo understands its brand is synonymous with safety and goes the extra mile. It boasts integrated child booster seats in the rear. Dogs are members of the family, too, and can be housed in a cage that has been crash-tested for safety.

But is the difference worth $20,000?

Perhaps Mazda’s most shocking accomplishment is in the beauty department. Design is what’s supposed to separate luxury from mainstream. The once-boxy Volvo has come into its own in recent years with sculpted lines and sultry grilles. Next year the new XC60 will get the cool Thor’s-hammer headlamps seen on the XC90.

But it’s the Mazda that has the luxury looks. Avoiding the grille clutter that defines many mainstream brands (I’m looking at you, Honda CR-V and Chevy Equinox), the CX-5’s face is a work of art. The headlights pierce the five-point grille like arrows; the LED work is evocative of Audi’s designer peepers. The body sweeps backward over high wheel-arches and deeply scalloped rocker panels — under blacked-out B and C pillars — to a chrome-punctuated fastback.

And did I mention it’s wearing a Soul Red Chrystal dress?

Inside, the Mazda is as whisper-quiet as the Scandinavian, but can’t match the Volvo’s carved-wood console. The CX-5’s design is more businesslike (think Audi) with attention to detail and material.

The XC60 and CX-5 both have meek infotainment systems that neglect Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity. These oversights that are common among luxury brands. Despite these blind spots, the Mazda still one-ups its more expensive opponent with heated rear seats and a head-up display.

My favorite detail is the Mazda’s rear doors: They open to 80 degrees for easy rear egress. That solves a common ute challenge.

I have left the powertrains for last, because that is where the Volvo’s 300-horse, super- and turbocharged inline-4 clearly separates itself from the Mazda’s normally aspirated, four-cylinder 187-horse unit. But in practice, the CX-5 — though much buzzier under the cane — is a joy thanks to “G-vectoring control,” which cleverly manages engine-torque inputs for smoother acceleration and steering inputs.

Mazda execs call their strategy “moving to premium,” and it has all but eliminated the gap with more expensive SUVs. The high-tech Ford Escape and nimble Honda CR-V also play in the luxury league for thousands less. The pressure is on Volvo & Co. to justify their worth.

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or Twitter @HenryEPayne.

2017 Volvo XC60

Report card

Overall:★★★

Grading scale

Excellent ★★★★Good ★★★Fair ★★Poor ★

2017 Mazda CX-5

Report card

Overall:★★★★