Retribution Gospel Choir – 2

by Vinh on February 23rd, 2010

Retribution Gospel Choir – 2
January 26th, 2010
Sub Pop
Score: 4.6

At their most mesmerizing, slowcore legends Low make a big something out of virtually nothing. Wondrous downcast harmonies courtesy of founding members Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker unspool with remarkable poignancy, filling an otherwise vacant room with understated bombast, with an air of grandeur that doesn’t impose its presence but rather gently tilts the area’s ambient energy toward chilling peaks and solemn valleys. Many have tried their hand at similarly icy spires, yet none can rival those Low purvey — it’s an aesthetic they quite simply own. This is the reason for which 2005’s rock-oriented The Great Destroyer was such a letdown and the very same reason Sparhawk’s sturdier side project Retribution Gospel Choir strikes as ham-fisted. While the artwork for 2 provides hope for a return to glacial soundscapes, it is swiftly and brutally curtailed by opener ‘Hide It Away’ which aims for the stars and instead flounders in the soil. It’s almost as though the trio is too conscious of Sparhawk’s track record with Low and consequently avoids the slow-moving at all costs, packaging higher, vacuous decibels to stray from familiarity. Not unlike RGC’s self-titled debut, the songs here fall roughly between stoner and arena rock, armed with crunchy guitars, ponderous atmospherics, and ostensibly rousing vocals. Unfortunately, the tunes drag on even longer than when Sparhawk operates in slowcore mode (!), plodding along in brawny boorishness every painful step of the way. 2 won’t envelop you in its gossamer grace nor will it have you tapping your foot to an ingratiating hook — barring the forceful roots-rocker ‘Workin’ Hard’. Closer ‘Bless Us All’ attempts to remedy the situation and the eerie dirge is intriguing enough on its own — echoing the world’s dwindling pulse amidst radio chatter in an apocalyptic setting. However, placed at the tail end of this record, it’s no more than a sinuous parting statement traveling across the grain of big, soulless nothingness.

Vinh Cao

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