Sparta
Porcelain
Geffen

"Let's crash these gates and join this party/ I want to be welcomed not just tolerated," laments Jim Ward on Porcelain, Sparta's sophomore effort. This provides a fitting description for the predicament Sparta finds itself in. Following the demise of the legendary punk/emo band At the Drive-In, and its subsequent split into afro and non-afro divisions — the Mars Volta and Sparta respectively — Sparta has struggled to prove its worth, especially given that the Mars Volta has exhibited ATDI's more adventurous elements.

Unlike the Mars Volta, Sparta is considerably more cautious and more willing to move toward commercial viability and respectability, which, of course, is not a bad thing. Many a good band from R.E.M. to Sonic Youth has made similar moves. The trick, as everybody knows, comes in balancing indie cred with the demands of the Clear Channel behemoth that could possibly line a band's pockets with cash. Only the best can pull off this feat; everyone else fails miserably (see the Replacements' Don't Tell a Soul).

Sparta's problem, much like the Mars Volta's, is that its fan base is built upon the foundation laid by ATDI. Fans of ATDI were treated to an explosive mixture of tightly wound melodies, frantic pummeling, jarring stop-start rhythms and the Joycean lyrical twists of vocalist Cedric Bixler. Moving out of the shadow created by ATDI isn't easy, and to its credit, Sparta seems determined to carve out its very own niche.

Porcelain starts strong with "Guns of Memorial Park," an ode to younger, more spirited days. "Hold these/ Hold my memories/ Don't let me forget these secret walkways," Ward sings as the band expertly drives forward. In fact, the first half of the album's 14 songs, with the exception of "Lines in the Sand," easily impresses. "Hiss the Villain" convincingly pounds away, scaling the heights to a euphoric chorus before coming back down again. "Breaking the Broken" finds Sparta at its most commercial and its most melodic. A choppy guitar solo opens the song as the band solidly kicks in behind with a chiming U2-like guitar for the melody. It's an unabashed bid for commercial success, but it's so damn catchy you're willing to give the band the benefit of the doubt. It's also the most upbeat song Sparta has recorded, with its life-affirming lyric, "I wouldn't trade what I got/ Not for anything." Which may solve the problem presented by the last half of Porcelain: Is Sparta's contentment with life's gifts to blame for the slide into mediocrity?

Sitting right in the middle of the album, the best track, "End Moraine," highlights this divide even further. ATDI-heads out there would be tempted to say that Sparta is almost on the verge of sounding as good as it did on its debut, Wiretap Scars. But what good is that? This is a band trying to distinguish itself from its past. Regardless, "End Moraine" is the most powerful statement this band has made since Wiretap Scar's "Cut Your Ribbon." Ward screams at the top of his lungs, "I want glaciers to scrape/ I want to level this place/ Everyone in it can go" like he means it. Phew!

From here on out everything does go — very badly. Of the remaining seven songs, only the instrumental "Syncope" and the epic ballad "Tensioning" satisfy. The rest blends together into an indistinct mass of guitar and vocal shredding. "Splinters," another by-the-numbers rocker, closes Porcelain with a whimper. It's a shame considering the potential shown earlier on the album.

It's difficult to say where Sparta can go from here. Porcelain neither builds on the promise of Wiretap Scars nor cashes in on the band's gifted heritage. Instead, Sparta seems content to mine a generic and conventional vein of aggressive rock, hitting the high notes here and there. On "Lines in the Sand," Ward sings, "Sometimes a struggle leaves you fragile/ Shaken up and shotgun shy/ With heartache past and open eyes/ You'll come back stronger, bigger, better." If this is Ward's acknowledgment of his break with ATDI, it points to a sense of security in Sparta moving on and being satisfied with what it has to offer. And for fans of ATDI, maybe they'll have to move on as well.

— Bobby Mann (mannhb@hotmail.com)