Aqueduct pumps out flaccid emo

By Jordan Sargent

Published Feb. 16, 2007

Seattle-based Aqueduct's third album, Or Give Me Death, is a beefed-up bedroom pop in the vein of Manitoba — now named Caribou. David Terry, the man behind Aqueduct, eschews Manitoba's jittery, atmospheric instrumentation for an attempt at more straight-ahead pop with pianos, jangly guitars and the like. And where the voice of Caribou's Daniel Snaith is lush and airy, Terry sounds like a pubescent version of the Hold Steady's Craig Finn.

The thing with Finn is that his voice sounds at home among his band's barroom pianos and stadium guitars, but Terry's is abrasive, and at most times, grating.

Like Finn, Terry pushes his voice to the forefront of the music, but the Hold Steady's inherent intensity suits Finn's near-screech. On the other hand, Terry tries to play it coy and understated, but his whine can't convey the sad sack feelings he tries to convey.

Or Give Me Death works best when Terry expands his instrumentation to encompass horns, strings and other things that usually don't sound right with this type of feeble pop. The more swollen sound suits him best.

The slicing and swooping violins on "Unavailable" give the song an epic, transcendent feel and the sporadic horn punctuations on "Just the Way I Are" are the only things on the album that sound truly inspired. For just two pretty glorious songs, everything clicks, and Terry comes off almost like a one-man Electric Light Orchestra.

The beginning of the record, saved only by "Living a Lie," is almost unlistenable. Terry tries too hard to be catchy, and he bathes himself in synthesizers that are too sweet to be tolerated for more than three minutes, let alone three songs. The worst offender is "Broken Records," in which the synth line sounds like a swarm of bees and is nearly as annoying. Opener "Lying in the Bed I've Made" is a Ben Folds pastiche without nearly the chops, and it sounds worse than what it is — a sappy piano ballad.

But instrumentation quibbles are just taste, and I don't have the sweet tooth necessary to stand the type of shit that Terry tries to pull off. His lyrics are unmistakably melodramatic, foolish and frankly annoying.

Just the name Or Give Me Death should be a huge, flashing neon "emo" sign in and of itself, but just in case you weren't sure, Terry wets his bed on the song's first verse: "You've made me painfully aware of what you think of me/ And for the most part, I'm starting to believe it true." It gets way worse, and a hell of a lot more emo from there. In fact, I'm pretty sure my liner notes are tear-stained.

What Terry fails to realize is that he never gives us a reason to care about whatever nonsense he's singing about, and worse of all, he isn't nearly as clever as he thinks he is. He can't turn phrases or paint images like Conor Oberst or Elliot Smith, so his lyrics come off as high-school diary drivel ("I felt the pain/ The sting still remains/ For the faceless thief has struck again").

Terry's wholesale Bright Eyes steez is tired and played out, and by song eight, when he opens "Zero the Controls" with "This is a song for all the lovers/ Or anyone playing SpyHunter," you won't know whether to vomit or laugh in his face. On the irritating "Broken Records" Terry sings, "You're so over the top/ I am so over it now." Welcome to the club, dude.