God’s Gonna Give You a Million Dollars still has that wind blasted effect to it. But the band has expanded dynamically and in the colors they use. Tristen Kelly’s penchant for playing downtuned chords on his bass gives the low end both vibrancy and sludge, depending on the need. The Ritcher scale scaring moments are balanced by beautiful leads on “Sadie” and closer “All My Love” perching between Mission of Burma’s hyper melodic low end and Duster’s patient and texture driven bass. With that canvas set, it’s easier for guitarist Blake Skipper to paint. If you’ve got anyone in your circle who claims guitar solos are dead and buried, God’s Gonna Give You a Million Dollars will set them straight. Southern Metal pioneers Corrosion of Conformity would’ve killed for the riff that rips through the middle of “Sadie” and the title track continuously one ups itself. After a gentle, loping opening, the song bursts apart at the seams, and the chords slam down like a black cloud of the dust bowl. Then Skipper rips into a solo where the amps seem barely able to contain his power.  Skipper isn’t just lighting up fireworks; he’s bringing down entire hurricanes of whirling notes.

But there’s a remarkable sense of restraint when calling down those thunderbolts. The same way the sky turns green and the distant sound of a freight train signal the arrival of the F-5 tornado, Shallowater set they stage immaculately. They’re often so quiet you can hear the room they recorded in. Kelly’s fingers sliding down the strings of his bass, the subtle afterglow of cymbals fading into nothing, the radiant hum of the amps. There’s also a sneaky math-rock backbone here provided by drummer Ryan Faulkenberry, his dexterous and flexible playing the fulcrum where the hairpin turns can pirouette from time signature to time signature, from a whisper to a storm. See the title track, where Kelly and Skipper play ever spiraling arpeggios, funneling up into the sky, while Faulkenberry guides the crescendo like a cowboy leaning into the power of a bucking bronco. His ability to flip from canter to gallop on a dime is underneath every dynamic and sonic change on the album. God’s Gonna Give You a Million Dollars only has six songs, but clocks in at 41 minutes, with three separate tunes sprawling out over 7:30 minutes. But they feel like suites, natural progressions in dynamics and emotions, due to Faulkenberry’s deft hand.

Skipper matches these contrasts with an expanded vocal range and keen lyrical eye. His stories on There is a Well were impressionistic, a stark landscape and starker emotions. There’s more warmth and sorrow on God’s Gonna Give You a Million Dollars, with Skipper adding sharp details that serve as emotional touchstones. “I kept my shoes on in your house/ And an eye on the door,” he hollers on “Highway,” giving simmering tension to a No Country for Old Men noir. “A man can’t live on Ativan and ice chips,” he sighs on the hymn-like “Ativan” where his guitar rings and shimmers like church bells. The dynamic contrast underlined by Faulkenberry is embossed by Skipper’s guitar. He sounds like he’s unspooling threads of gold in the quiet moments.

On closer “All My Love,” Skipper takes a detour, finding a dilapidated house, hole in the roof, walls collapsing. “The roof was open up/ The sun was breaking in,” and with JJ Tourville’s zephyr-like pedal steel and a guest spot from picker Hayden Pedigo, the strings sound exactly like rays of light sunbleaching all that’s lost and abandoned. “All My Love” reads like Hemmingway’s “Big Two-Hearted River,” all implication and things unsaid. As Skipper rummages through the remains of collapsed floorboards he finds a picture of the Virgin Mary “glued to a piece of wood.” “On the back/ Written in sharpie/ ‘To grandma, with all my love,’” is the closing line and has brought me nearly to tears every time I hear it.