With the weight and momentum from two universally lauded singles, an autumn stint supporting iLiKETRAiNS, and sell out support dates with The Twilight Sad earlier this year accompanying scores of dates around the country, Her Name is Calla hold off a debut album with the release of their mini album, 'The Heritage'. Mini only in tracklisting rather than length, Her Name is Calla's move initially seems incredibly bold. Often a move to cast off dead weight from a debut album, to plug the gaps between releases (or to simply milk the fans of cash if you're feeling cynical), the release through Gizeh Records is almost like bait, releasing a few archived songs after a suitable gestation period and collecting them together with new material, leaving us wondering what perhaps is left for the future. Despite a change in personnel, the band sound refreshed; new drummer Adam Weikert joining an extended Calla with principle players Dave Dhonau of Actionforce on Cello and Sophie Barnes of the Rosie Taylor Project on trumpet adding depth and substance to Tom Morris, Michael Love and Thom Corah's core dynamic.

Conspicuous. by their absence are last year's singles, the ultra rare, sustained-live ballad ‘Condor and River’ and the shorter, lurching menace ‘A Moment of Clarity’. A lesser band would have simply tacked the two tracks onto the end and called it their debut, but it is to Her Name is Calla’s credit that the collection of songs on ‘The Heritage’ are a fitting, lucid stream of consciousness. Live favourites Nylon and New England appear, with their recorded counterparts more than living up to expectation. The slow thump and mournful tone of the former bleeds into the slow, mechanical grind of the latter, which ends in a glorious, spectacular climax courtesy of the Monroe Transfer on strings alongside Her Name is Calla up to 11. Make no mistake about it, this one rocks as hard as it pulls, emotively in equal measure. Were you to want to slit your wrists, as a dismissive listener may suggest, chances are at times you’ll spray your blood up the ceiling from flailing your arms around.

‘New England’ would be an epic finale that most bands would kill for, which is a truism that HNIC would probably agree with, ending most of their live performances with it. Here, however, it forms a foundation for the following four tracks, each combining elements of loss, tragedy, mourning and suffering balanced unsettlingly with an overwhelming sense of mystery and ambiguity. Despite their musical similarities and kinship, they are almost the antithesis of iLiKETRAiNS in content, choosing interpretational and affecting narrative over essayed history and hard fact. Wren, much like Nylon, follows the improvisational Paying for your Funeral with more simple, delicate and heart rendering tones. Trombone and Trumpet almost have an air of military funeral, ghosts of war marches from forgotten battles and a bugle call from the graveside to affect the obligatory drums, bass, guitar and piano. Elements of the album's early high point 'New England' are also revisited in 'Motherfunster, It's Alive and It's Bleeding', the heaviest point in which the foundations of the track seem to tremble and quake amongst the conviction of grief. Taken to breaking point, you are left to reflect on your own personal narrative in the quieter 'Rebirth'. Additional reflection is also afforded on hidden track 'The Long Distance Runner', a track which could easily be drenched in faux strings to sell cars and cynically endear Her Name is Calla to millions. Instead, it's a raw and achingly beautiful solo acoustic number bringing proceedings to a close with frontman Tom Morris, whose vocal range and affirmation are consistently excellent throughout.

The Heritage, in keeping with it's conservationist title, is much like a grandiose listed building hidden amongst the shadows. A beautifully presented construction, battled and ravaged through time by sorrow, pain and regret. Products of nature, roots and vines, wrapping around it's conclave to seal, to protect and to comfort. Yet as the clouds disperse, and light pierces through the darkness, an overwhelming structure of outstanding beauty remains. It's a feeling that the Enemy or Jamie T-T might fail to give you, but in many ways that raw visceral feeling will soon be overcome by a broad grin creeping across your face. At six pounds a throw, it's inescapable, you will inevitably feel you've gotten the bargain deal of 2008. This is a serious contender for the most affirming alternative rock release of the year, and at this stage one can only imagine and anticipate what the debut proper will sound like.

and i'm sure the link will work later.