Following two full-length albums released in 2010 that seemed to sink swiftly into obscurity, then a rise in fortunes with her support slots for Lykke Li across the US in 2011, our attention has been directed in a very strong and deliberate way to Vancouver-born Montreal resident Grimes (Claire Boucher to her mum) since her signing with 4AD. Magazine covers, a little web frenzy and an avalanche of positive press followed in swift, buzzy fashion, and we’re now delivered the end result of the frantic foaming in the shape of Boucher’s third album Visions.

Where the cheerleaders for the Grimes cause are right is that there is no doubt that Boucher is possessed of a superb musical intellect. She uses every available element of solo controlled electronica to create an unusual, sometimes spectacular alternate world where words are just another miraculous sound, rhythm a simple foundation on which to drape near-infinte layers of differing finery. And, apparently, she does it all on GarageBand. So that’s impressive.

Also in her favour is the frankly wonderful, picture-postcard-evocative single ‘Genesis’. A musical cousin to Orbital’s ‘The Box’, like so many great songs it instantly instills a sense of nostalgia for a personally unexperienced past. As Boucher’s machinery hums and roars, intertwined, unknowable vocals pebble-skip across the surface, sugar-sweet notes refract and reflect the naked elements of the track, twisting it into a honeyed, dreaming delight. The lack of distinction and traditional structure here is no weakness, more a charming, surprising treat.

The surprise, though, does not last. ‘Eight’ is a robot-voice-intro’d squealer jammed with dubsteppy glitches and tier after tier of processed sound, built one on top of another until the whole thing begins to sound less quirky, more shambolic. There’s no crime whatever in pursuing alternate songwriting methods and means of delivery but on tracks like ‘Visiting Statue’ where faux-naturelle beats and clipped strings are drowned in macbook handclaps and mile after ocean mile of parallel, crossing, winding high-pitched voice the work is admirable, the results not enjoyable.

Boucher’s use of indulgent, repeated glossolalia as her primary vocal style begins to truly grate on the skittish, lurching ‘Colour Of Moonlight’ where the vocalising sounds, as it does on much of ‘Visions’, like the long-forgotten Cranes singer Alison Shaw – childlike but ultimately grating.

‘Be A Body’, despite kicking off like a ’90s suburban rave anthem, treads territory that Julianna Barwick covers more emotively and tenderly while ‘Vowels=Space and Time’ is a pretence at mashed pop music that feeds Madonna through a Kaossilator and allows you to “marvel” at the brutally disfigured, melody-free, eurobeat results.

Now that’s not to say that the record doesn’t have glowing, luminous moments – indeed much of this gear sounds good, in that the sounds are often pleasing, tiresome vocalising aside. It’s just that there’s a difference between a good sound and good songs. Take ‘Circumambient’ for example: fascistic beats, bubbling synth, moogy honks and multitudinous melodies please the ear but ultimately it’s no more than an accretion of midi tricks and self-sampling half-ideas. There’s nothing to hold on to and, worst of all, there’s no emotional click and connection, that hazy semi-spiritual feeling in the pit of the belly that the most effective dreampop can deliver.

Emotional content is not at a high premium here aside from on the sensual, damning ‘Skin’, a track that allows you a little way in by permitting you to understand some of the words (a simple trick) and leaves you wondering what could have been had Boucher not chosen to be so purposely obscure.

There’s also a taste of potential on ‘Oblivion’, the brother track to ‘Genesis’ and a saving grace for the record. Like recent work from Frankie Rose it’s a Tron-soundtracking rush of pop shot through with electric whimsy and hissing snares that gladdens the heart.

Although there are reasons for Boucher to be respected and admired as an artist, a record stands or falls by how much it has to give, how much of a connection the artist makes with the listener. On this form Grimes breaks the surface occasionally but does not often go much deeper. For the most part it’s an album that is – yes – atmospheric but it is also, sadly, dull.