HAM SANDWICH
KELLS, COUNTY MEATH
Ham Sandwich are currently writing and recording the follow up to their 'Carry The Meek' album and are playing a very limited amount of shows around the country.
Ham Sandwich's birth was positively biblical given the fact that Johnny Moore approached, Podge McNamee and, Niamh Farrell about the idea of forming their own group, while the trio were at a Good Friday party, in 2003. With Moore as the main songwriter and the other two as vocalists, they then set their sights on combing through the musicians they knew in hometown, Kells, County Meath, in an effort to shore up the lineup with likeminded individuals. Guitarist, Darcy, was recruited from the school he attended with Moore in the nearby town of Navan, which, curiously, is the same school that gave Ireland three of its most esteemed comedic talents, in the shape of Dylan Moran, Tommy Tiernan and Hector O'hEochag·in. With the addition of Ollie Murphy on drums, the band was complete and rehearsals began in earnest. After almost one year of intense jamming and absorbing a multitude of tastes, the band finally took its first steps into the public spotlight, becoming something of a local phenomenon, on the strength of their charged live performances and colorful personalities.
In early autumn of 2005, the national underground music scene got its first taste of the band with the release of their first single, the superb, Sad Songs, which called to mind acts such as Jesus & Mary Chain, Pavement and the Smiths. With McNamee and Farrell's vocals projecting a perfect balance of light and shade, the single served as an early signal that Ham Sandwich had potential to be a band of consequence. The next two years would only confirm this notion as the five-piece set about touring the highways and byways of Ireland, drumming up support wherever they went, with a show that is as energetic as it is unpredictable. In Farrell, the band has the ultra-cool female singer, who is unafraid to mix it up with her fellow band members, yet is not beyond projecting an air of cool detachment when the mood demands it, while in McNamee, the band has a bona fide space cadet (sometimes quite literally when he wears his astronaut costume). Bounding around the stage, exuding fun and mischief, and alternating between ringmaster and clown, his energy alone could probably power all their amps. Together, the pair are almost sound somewhat like The Sunday's Harriet Wheeler and Crash Test Dummies, Brad Roberts, might sound like if they ever played in a high-octane indie band, although it's doubtful then that they would retain a scintilla of the natural chemistry evident between Farrell and McNamee. Such a live show soon had the band selling out venues throughout the country, despite little or no promotion and winning them the title as Ireland's greatest cult band
