Imagine Chris Martin crippled and strung-out on prescription pills, all of his band-mates killed in a horrific accident. This is the ravaged sound of his burning soul. Her Name Is Calla are a three-piece from Leicester who specialize in their own menacing brand of highly-ambitious post-folk. Over the course of these three tracks they come across like a more malevolent, stripped-down version of Hope of The States. Gloomy stuff it may be, but their grubby, mournful epics are approached with the same attention-to-craft as a much more experienced band like Radiohead. Her Name Is Calla’s songs are bleak and brooding, but never anything less than interesting. Recently they’ve played with acts such as The Soundtrack of Our Lives and Minuteman, and seem like fairly unlikely bedfellows, to be honest. Nevertheless, it’ll be very interesting to see where they go next.