When I was younger, I really wanted a Super Soaker water cannon for Christmas. An effective advertising blitz on the weekday afternoon cartoons convinced me that if I received that glorified water pistol for my birthday, my life would be complete. Oh, the mischief that I could have gotten up to, acting like a ghost in the night, ready to unleash the holy fury of a stream of high-pressure water upon my enemies. After months of anticipation and nagging my parents, they finally caved and bought me that water pistol. Much to my disappointment, it wasn't nearly as deadly as it was portrayed on the television, and my hopes of sniping at people from trees at long range were dashed. Listening to The Tea Party's new album Seven Circles reminded me a lot of that crushing disappointment.

The Tea Party established a reputation during the late 90s as a band with ideas. Unlike most of their post-grunge brethren, they weren't content to simply emulate Nirvana with a whole lot more polish and gloss over their music. Each new album featured the band going into the studio with a bunch of odd musical instruments, and cranking out some music that had the same attitude of latter Led Zeppelin albums, Western rock music with a strong Eastern influence. Even their slightly more disappointing albums like "Triptych" featured this, and even if the music wasn't particularly good, at least it was always interesting, and you could admire the creativity underlying the music.

"Seven Circles" takes away this massive advantage that the band had though, and when you take away the foreign-sounding elements from The Tea Party, you're left with a mediocre alternative rock band that doesn't really have much to distinguish it. It's not nearly as faceless as the generi-rock of Creed, but it's approaching that.

Songs like Oceans, for instance, might have been acceptable in the "The Edges of Twilight" era, if it had been drenched in Middle Eastern musical instruments. As it is here though, it just highlights Jeff Martin's clumsy songwriting. "Where are you going/Can I follow/This distance is hard to swallow/You should stay awhile/Let's have a drink/Let's have a laugh". My Year 10 English teacher would have flunked that had I turned it in as an assignment, and it just doesn't cut it here, either.

It's not all bad though. Opening song Writing's On The Wall is fast-paced and aggressive enough to work, and the eerie, indistinct female-sounding vocal that opens Luxuria, followed by a crunching guitar part shows glimpses of their former glory. Overload is also a serviceable rock song, with a quickfire riff that makes the band sound a little like your choice of 70s blues-metal bands.

Unfortunately, for every Luxuria on this album, there's a Stargazer or Wishing You Would Stay to keep things from getting interesting. I had hoped after "Interzone Mantras" that "Triptych" had only been a stumbling block for the band, an obstacle along a path to better things. This album, however, gives me the feeling that the band has lost its way, and that they're not sure where to take things next. Unfortunately, such indecision has resulted in the second weak album for the band, out of the last three. If the band can't get their act together for the next album, then I don't think that they're going to have a very bright future.