It would be hard to overstate the difference between the C7 and C8 on both road and track. On the street, in any of its six driving modes, especially when fitted with the sublime - but optional - active damping system, the C8 smoothes and soothes away all but the worst road irregularities and sounds. It’s almost too quiet, the engine a faint voice of light mechanical action instead of the rousing, grumbling soundtrack we have come to expect from Chevy’s supercar. The loudest noise at 70mph is the wind and a smattering of tyre roar.

All the controls, from the steering to the by-wire brakes, are light to the touch – not Ferrari light, but lighter than ever before in a ‘Vette - requiring fingers and toes rather than fists and feet to operate. The seats, especially the new-for-C8 GT2 variants, cradle you in such a way that there are no obvious pressure points so they remain comfortable hour after hour. Put all that together and mix in an engine that will return 25mpg with ease and the C8 emerges as one of the best GT cars you can buy.

While all the above points to a car that could be too soft and silent to be any fun at the track, one twirl of the mode switch and a couple of prods of the chassis controls turns it from a mild-mannered sheep to a slathering wolf. True, the engine noise in the cabin could – and should – be louder, but other than that the C8 leaves you in no doubt that it’s ready to party.

But maybe not quite in the way you were expecting. With a weight distribution of 60/40 rear/front, the C8 does not rotate and stick as neutrally as the mid-engined Porsche Cayman. It feels more like a 911 in that you have to give away some corner entry speed and then power it out using all the rear grip. The steering is much faster – the car responds to inputs 200ms quicker than a C7, which is an age in reaction time – and requires fewer corrections to stay on your chosen line. But it lacks the ultimate feel of a 911.

It’s still a rewarding and enjoyable experience that is a world away from the C7’s dynamics. And, in a true test of the chassis, it stays that way even when you’ve turned off all the handling aids. You can’t say that with the C7, particularly the Z06, which is fine one moment and will then try to fling you into the bushes the next if you are stupid enough to drive it fully unaided. So that’s progress. As is the raising of the C8’s thermal ceiling from the C7’s 32degC to 38degC. Cooling has been a recurrent issue on the C7, so Chevy has made sure to address it on the C8.

Braking by wire with the steel rotors doesn’t have a huge amount of pedal feel or a surfeit of power. But they are more than sufficient for road use and fine on the track once you’ve gauged their range. The limiting factor is as much the Michelin 4S tyres as the brakes themselves, though, as you can get to full ABS quite easily braking hard from 80mph or more.

The Tremec DCT gearbox is also more than fine in 99 percent of driving situations. It did reject a couple of manual down-changes on a couple of corner entries at the track, but was otherwise perceptive enough to leave in Track mode. It’s not quite as spookily good as Porsche’s PDK, but it’s close.

The lasting impression of the C8 is of a car with a driving signature unlike any other car, front, mid or rear-engined. It’s better handling, faster, quieter, safer and easier to use than the C7. Yet it still demands you to drive it in a way unique to the Corvette. Make confident, deliberate inputs and you’ll be rewarded with a rapid, predictable car that will work with you to go as fast as possible. But start changing your mind mid-corner and you’ll still have to get busy with the wheel and both pedals to keep it pointing forwards. It’s not unnerving, but it does let you know when you are messing up, rather than using tech to hide your mistakes. And that’s a good thing.