Kyla La Grange is playing to a sold-out Hoxton Bar & Kitchen in an hour or so and she's clearly a little preoccupied with ensuring everything goes according to plan. We meet up with her just after her soundcheck, and she’s looking in cafes and bars for somewhere to change her outfit. “I’m not a good person to talk to before one of my gigs”, she says, as we quick-march through Hoxton Square. But she doesn’t mean this in a leave-me-alone way, more a I-really-hope-this-goes-well sort of way. It’s immediately apparent that she cares a huge amount about what she does.

The same interplay between nervousness and hope is present in much of her slightly indie, slightly folky, extremely grand music. La Grange’s lyrics are often weighed down by a rather ‘heavy heart’, as she sings on Walk Through Walls. But her baroque, ornate arrangements are often borne along by the strength of voice the lyrics are sung in; the rather desolate imagery sharply offset by her rousing delivery.

It is a complex cocktail, a sort of anthemic, defiant vulnerability, and it is generating substantial coverage in the mainstream press. The 24-year-old has been spotlighted in the Guardian and Vogue, amongst other places (including a ‘single of the week’ this week in Metro for her latest release, Heavy Stone). We sit down for a scotch and soda (her choice) for her take on this.

RR: How does it feel to be tipped for greatness?

KLG: I suppose I don’t really think I am. You live in a bit of a bubble when you’re constantly playing and gigging, and I try to not get too obsessed with reading what’s been written. I’m quite a neurotic person and if I read something negative that’s been written about me, I’ll think about it for weeks afterwards. I don’t really think about being tipped for anything, I just keep gigging and keep writing.

RR: Let’s say you’re the next Stevie Nicks. Do you think mega-stardom would affect your ability to write honest music?

KLG: No, in some ways I think it would make it easier. When I hear that someone likes one of my songs, it makes me a lot more confident about writing another one as well. I know I’m only seeing it from one side, and I don’t know what it’s like to be very big and successful. But I do know that it’s very hard sometimes, when you’re not successful and you’re not selling records, to trust your own instinct. You might write a song that you’re in love with, and then when you play it to other people they don’t ‘get it’. Not having had that previous success of your work being admired can make it a lot harder to stick to your guns.

RR: Do you listen to what people say about you? KLG: Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. I think in that respect the music industry is perhaps the worst place for me to have ended up [laughs]. I think it’s good to laugh at it too. Sometimes the things people have written about me are just so horrible that you think, that’s ridiculous! And sometimes you just have to think “this doesn’t affect my daily life in any way”. I just try to keep a level head about it.

RR: Did you see yourself being in the music industry while you were growing up? How did where you grew up affect your music?

KLG: I grew up in Watford. I suppose that affected my music insofar as I hated Watford, so I just spent a lot of time in my room being creative, making stories up and painting. I didn’t really embrace the Watford nightlife scene. I really feel like I grew up musically at university, in Cambridge. There were so many little places that nurtured me and let me play, and everyone was so supportive. It was just a lovely place. I hadn’t really played my own songs before university, so it was the first time I felt like I had grown up musically, getting the guts to start doing that.

RR: What makes you happy?

KLG: Going for a run. Walking my dog. I guess helping people does too. I’m a bit rubbish at this type of question. Writing a good song or playing a good gig has got to be up there.

RR: Where would you most like to play a gig? It’s not allowed to be a ‘gig venue’. KLG: I know the answer to this one. There are these amazing caves, somewhere in South Africa. My parents took me to them when I was younger, I can never remember what their name is. Anyway, they’re these underground caves, and there’s these chemicals in the water that makes it go bright blue, turquoise. It looks incredible, stunning, and it would be an amazing place to play a gig. Or to shoot a video.

RR: If you could ask any artist, living or dead, to ‘paint’ one of your songs, who would it be?

KLG: I would choose Dali, definitely, I’d love to be able to commission a Dali. Other than that, I also have a friend called Ruth Fuller, who will hate me for even mentioning the name in an interview because she doesn’t really publicise or sell her work! But she is the most incredible artist, so I’d ask her.

RR: If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life what would it be? And if you could be in any band in history who would it be?

KLG: One song for the rest of my life would be While You Were Sleeping by Elvis Perkins. It’s lyrically one of the most amazing songs I’ve ever heard, and every time you listen to it you hear another lyric, another meaning. It’s like poetry. If I could be in one band in history, I’d be Mick Jagger in the Rolling Stones. I love their music, and above all I love his energy. When you watch live the energy is incredible. It’s just fucking cool isn’t it?

RR: What do you think of Mick Jagger’s current project, Superheavy -- the one with Joss Stone and Damian Marley?

KLG: Um, why do people get worse as they get older in music? It’s so weird. In every other profession you get better as you get older. But in music you get worse.

RR: It’s a young person’s game, isn’t it?

KLG: Who knows? I’m 42...

And with that, she runs off to change her outfit. A little later, she appears on stage at Hoxton Bar & Kitchen with much bigger hair, the stage decked out with leaves. Her performance is pretty triumphant; those pre-gig nerves and heavy heart seem to be a very long way away.