Cover Feature The genius of Grimes

“Sorry, I have so many beverages here!” exclaims Claire Boucher suddenly, attempting to juggle a mug full of coffee, and an elegant wine flute. Distracted every so often by a mountain she can glimpse out of her Adelaide window, and in the process of taking ‘Art Angels’ on tour for the first time, Grimes is, as she puts it herself, in a “mildly insane” mood today, having just awoken from a nap. “This is water, not wine,” she qualifies, quickly. “I just like the look of the glass,” she explains, studying it. “I feel like I’m in Sex and the City or something.”

A couple of years ago, the idea that Grimes was a potential subscriber to Carrie Bradshaw and co.’s hapless romantic adventures seemed unlikely. Squirrelled away in darkened basements, making bizarrely twisted - and yes, overwhelmingly zeitgeisty - sounds, Claire Boucher struck as an incredibly serious musician. Though she remains a true perfectionist, obsessed with every microparticle of her craft Grimes is also becoming a rocket-fuelled cultural hoover with no limits. Less pop, and more endlessly fascinated by popular culture itself, anything is game for absorption into her retina-bashing slash movie meets sci-fl flick universe; everything that emerges out the other side is life in the vivid dream, enhanced and larger-than-reality for reasons beyond everyday comprehension. It’s an ability very few artists possess. In each generation, you can count people like Grimes on one hand.

‘Art Angels’ - Grimes’ fourth record, and her first since her breakthrough third, ‘Visions’ - sees her taking on more ferociously varied facets than ever before. From the gender-bending vampire mobster that runs riot spitting football chants over ‘Kill V. Maim,’ to the record’s bizarre, garish, no-fucks-given clashing of all genres going, ‘Art Angels’ is a little like Grimes’ beloved Game of Thrones in scope and ambition; if it were set in a gaudy, futuristic neon wonderland instead of Westeros. Though she still readily admits to battling against stage fright, Grimes’ live show is a saturated glimpse into the world she’s designed, letting rip with fast-unfurling, cathartic screams. Designers these days are tripping over one another to photograph her fearless Adidas sandal and sock combinations, and in the studio, Boucher’s dark days of Adderall-fuelled writing binges have been disowned and left behind. Now, she operates from a studio in her home. Everything is entirely on her own terms.