Zao reviews typically start with a recap of the band’s ultra-convoluted history. I’m not gonna go into all that; chances are if you’re reading this blog you probably know at least a little something about the Pennsylvania-based quintet. I’d much rather open by stating that The Crimson Corridor is one of Zao’s best albums, and that’s saying something for a band that’s nearly three decades and twelve albums deep into their career.
Musically speaking, Zao has always been a constantly evolving entity. From the more hardcore oriented early releases, to the chaotic metalcore of classics such as Where Blood and Fire Bring Rest and Liberate Te Ex Inferis, to the more melodic approach of the underrated The Funeral of God, they’ve never made the same record twice. That evolution continues with The Crimson Corridor, which finds the band leaning heavily into post metal territory, making for an album that’s among the most poignant and atmospheric of Zao’s works without sacrificing the band’s signature heaviness.
One can hear echoes of Isis and Cult of Luna throughout The Crimson Corridor, but Zao filter the post metal sound through their twenty-eight years of stylistic twists and turns, bending it to their will and making it wholly their own. Tracks such as “Ship of Theseus” and “Transitions” are a morass of sludgy tempos and down-tuned guitars, whereas others like “Croatoan” “R.I.P.W.” and “Creator/Destroyer” find the band mixing bone-breaking rhythms with delicate moments that at times border on full-on post rock. The biggest surprise here though is the ten minute long album-closing epic “The Web,” which moves effortlessly through a variety of sounds and moods throughout it’s run-time and sees Zao spreading their creative wings even further to produce what might be one of their all-time finest musical moments.
Produced and mixed by Dave Hidek, the album is incredibly dense; the heavy parts, which are plentiful, feel downright oppressive at times, as if Zao are piling musical cinderblocks on your chest, whereas the the more delicate sections have an airy, hazy quality about them, allowing the listener a chance to catch their breath before being dragged back down into the abyss. Hidek’s production serves to highlight the shifting dynamics of the songs, allowing one to fully absorb the sonic architecture of Zao’s pummeling fury, as well as their crippling melancholy.
With The Crimson Corridor, Zao have crafted yet another impressive release that serves to remind us why they still sit amongst the top tier of OG metalcore groups. Rather than play it safe, the band works hard to expand their sound in surprising ways, and this drive to progress beyond the confines of their musical roots continues to pay dividends. Emotionally draining, debilitatingly heavy and beautifully sad, The Crimson Corridor is a mesmerizing album that will stick with you long after it’s over.