There’s a hazy cloud of smoke around Anna Calvi. Sometimes it’s a pall of cigarette smoke from a pre-rock nightclub; other times it’s a backlit mist as she stands on a festival stage, reaching out in triumph over a soaring chorus. There’s smoke in her voice and in the sultry chime of her guitar, faint hints of sex and violence slowly unfurling through the speakers. She’s mysterious and commanding, smouldering ashes threatening to burst into flame.

Anna Calvi is the newest in a line of strong female musicians, alongside relative newcomer Florence Welch and unimpeachable icon PJ Harvey. Calvi will earn comparisons to both: the former for the clarion-like power of her voice, the latter for her powerful sensuality and guitar savvy. There are also traces of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs Karen O and the languorous grace of jazz legends like Nina Simone in her phrasing and vocal presence, but there is much more to Ms. Calvi than a list of women who have come before her.

There’s a palpable sense of drama to Calvi’s music. The noir-ish tones and the twang of her guitar toy with negative space like a more rock-minded xx, stretching out the darkness to a cinematic scale. Calvi herself stands at the front of this grand display, her voice swinging from come-closer crooning to roof-trembling howls.
Many bands toy with such grand drama, but matching the emotional content to such theatrics is a challenge few can meet, but not so with Calvi. Her songs are raw and sensual, caught up in a tangle of head-over-heels love and its bloody, heartbroken opposite. The skyscraping reach of "Desire" lives up to the longing of its title, as Calvi’s voice bursts into life. It’s thrilling to hear such a sophisticated voice deployed so well, driven not only by precision but passion as well.

She’s equally at home with understatement, as the slinky tones of "The Devil" can attest. This track is also one of Calvi’s most compelling instances as a guitarist, a quality easily overshadowed by the power of her voice. The sultry, chiming tones ring out at an achingly slow pace, building into rippling runs and finally into bold chords as the song reaches its well-deserved release in the final half-minute. It’s a powerful demonstration of Calvi’s three-fold abilities as a singer, guitarist and songwriter.

Anna Calvi’s self-titled album is a remarkable example of a talent that has emerged fully formed. Few seasoned veterans could produce a record of such sophistication, emotional complexity and staggering beauty, so it is all the more stunning that this is a debut. Watch for it among end-of-year lists come December.

Review score: 8.5/10