Falling confetti: a mainstay of Ham Sandwich gigs. Cover your drinks, gents, and bring a discreet comb with which to remove the detritus from your lavishly styled hair.

Well, it's not as good as Carry The Meek, but it's a bloody good effort.

I should probably expand on that a little, I suppose. (Er, yeah, if you wouldn't mind - Ed.) Right, well. Ham Sandwich, proclaimed by the intelligent several as the most important Irish band around right now, are finally ushering their much-anticipated sophomore album, White Fox, out the wide-open Release Window. The results are rather fine, with some minor foibles. Can they overcome the myriad obstacles facing them, including the cliché of the difficult second album, the departure of bassist-and-chief-songwriter Johnny Moore, the colossal expectations of a drooly-eager fanbase whose fiery enthusiasm has been stoked and prodded by the band's incredible live shows, and last but certainly not least, the crushing sense of inevitable doom that stifles us all (right?)?

Darn tootin' they can. White Fox is a step forward from Carry The Meek in almost every sense: it's infintely cleaner in its production, notably tighter in its songwriting, and more wide-ranging in its instrumentation. It's the sound of a still-young band shifting around in its own skin, finding out what's comfortable and what's not, what works and what doesn't. It's packed with energy, but not always the kinetic energy you might expect if you're a veteran listener of the group. Also, and this might be important to some, it's a pop record, not a rock record.

It's certainly important to me. But more on that later - we've got an album review to do, and so far, it seems I've written an intro and what looks like a closing paragraph, and forgotten to do all the in-between stuff. So! Let's talk about White Fox, baby.

It's a white fox. Not strictly relevant, but possibly abstractly so, and definitely a cutie pie.

Let's get the really important info out in the open, right here in... um... the fourth paragraph, where really important info belongs. And that info is this info: there are some really good songs here. "The Naturist" (released as a single a number of months ago) is a great start to the record, taking its time to build into the naturally huge anthem Ham Sammich excel at. It's at once familiar to returning fans, and a great introduction to the band for any newcomers, as perfect a summation of the band's work as exists. But it's also laced with novelty - behind the standard indie guitars, and the wonderful duelling vocals of Niamh and Podge, there's a banjo being plucked, automatically increasing the song's quality by about a squillion percent. Although your mileage might vary depending on your affection for banjos.

The title track keeps the energy running with a surging chorus, until "Ants" slows things right down with a delicate, fingerpicked guitar pattern, accented with twinkling piano and minimalist percussion that sound like handclaps but might not be. The subdued atmosphere allows Niamh's vocals take centre stage here, which is a theme throughout this album; Niamh is frontwoman and Podge is guitarist/backing vocalist, whereas things felt a little more mercurial on the last album. And she's in fine voice, sounding like a bona fide star now that her voice has more room to manoeuvre. She's able to sound a little more vulnerable without being drowned out, which makes the moments where she chooses to belt it out all the more emphatic.

Without going into too much fine detail, "OH-OH", "The Fog" and "Long Distance" are all commendably strong tracks, "Long Distance" being especially effective due to its distinctive guitar riff, and increased amount of Podginess (which, incidentally, I'm taking this opportunity to declare a Thing).

Ooooh. Moody.

In an intriguing conrast to the frontloaded Carry The Meek, where the first half of the album felt like a greatest hits collection, they leave the best till last on White Fox. Which brings us to the closing duo, "Animals" and "Floors", a staggeringly brilliant one-two punch - what you might call the "Never Talk" and "Words" of this album. "Animals" is simply an inch-perfect a power-pop song, full of bouncing rhythms, catchy melodies, and repeated references to Marilyn Monroe (hey, it worked for Elton John, right?) It genuinely deserves to be on every radio station forever, and should make for some impossibly chaotic scenes in The Button Factory this Hallowe'en. "Floors" is the direct opposite of that in every sense except excellence: a fragile, old-fashioned torch song, augmented with violins, capping off the album in a memorably pretty fashion.

But there's still that problematic first sentence to deal with: if this album's so good, why does it fall short of its predecessor for this reviewer? Well, simply put, I miss the rock. This album never hits the cathartic heights of a "Click Click BOOM!" or a "Words" (and it's not really trying for the most part) and I found myself missing that element of the bands repertoire. They can kick up one hell of a storm, and White Fox's skies remain sadly clear. (Also, I'd trade "Models" for previously-released single "Out of the Darkness", which was sterling stuff.)

But it's so good in other ways that even my broken, noise-craving brain can recognise as important. It ticks almost every box you could ask of it - danceable power pop in abundance, beautiful ballads, bucketloads of charisma, and promises for the future. If radio doesn't make this album a hit, we should all go bash up RTÉ with some hammers.

Al Byrne