See a gap and crawl into it. Find an air bubble and make it yours. That's what St Vincent has done and, actually, she has been very good at it. Whether through intention or design (probably a little bit of both), she's let her art feed her image and her image feed her art. The two are now almost inseparable and, as a consequence, right now she has few peers.
Back when she was guitarist Annie Clark AKA St Vincent (Actor, Marry Me), she was good and distinctive. But she was one of many; to your left Cat Power, to your right Regina Spektor, straight ahead Feist, behind you Joanna Newsom, round the corner Fiona Apple. If it seems like I am just reeling off a list of American and Canadian female singer-songwriters, you obviously can tell the difference between them. For the majority of people though, and even people who quite like music and might even know a bit about it, all of those artists pretty much blend into the background with one or other of them occasionally emerging out of the shadows.
St Vincent was one of them, pre the St Vincent album. Now she has a niche all of her own. The niche of those whose face you've seen, whose music you might have heard, who you may not care overly about, but you know she's St Vincent and, more importantly, you don't get her confused with Cat Power anymore. Who cares what the music sounds like? (I happen to like it very much.) Achieving artistic singularity might just be her biggest artistic achievement to date, after the Grammy of course.