Three years ago an Amanda Blank solo record seemed a more enticing prospect. She’d blazed her way to attention with a show stealing verse on Spank Rock’s Bump and seemed set to mount the mantle of first femme of filth, but her delayed debut album I Love You is a confused and cautionary tale.

On the slippery pole of sleaze a white female rapper will be compared to Peaches if she succeeds, and Princess Superstar if she falters. Sadly Blank gets dangerously close to Superstar status with this short collection of tunes.

It starts reasonably well with the post punk leaning Make It Take It benefiting from a bass line from !!!’s Tyler Pope and Something Bigger, Something Better riding a Diplo-Switch assault of lock cracking gun chambers and baile drum rolls. The Major Lazer production duo also worked on the lazy DJ; a weak ‘disco saved my life’ slice of album filler – not dancefloor filler; an important distinction. It’s also the category most of the record fills, with tired ideas and casual cameos replacing excitement and flair.

Spank Rock bump in for Gimmie What You Got with a lacklustre verse as Blank declares herself the “hottest muthafucker on the whole damn block”, it’s followed by Lemme Get Some with Chuck Inglish of the Cool Kids slurring his way through a cameo over a minimal ghost riding beat.

Shame On Me could be a sketch for a new Britney or Gaga single – not that there’s anything wrong with that; after all Santigold wrote for Ashlee Simpson before breaking as a solo act – it’s just lacking in any real purpose. There’s nothing greatly wrong with it, but it’s nothing necessary either.

Make Up written by Prince for Vanity 6 back in 1982 has Blank taking her adopted name to heart as she flatly works her way through lyrics like” If I wear a dress he will never call, so I wear much less, I guess I’ll wear my camisole”. The LL Cool J rework A Love Song first popped up on the excellent Top Ranking mix from Diplo and Santigold, which managed to top Santi’s album by mixing her tracks with her influences including tracks from Devo, B52s and The Clash. It worked well on the mixtape, but as a standalone album track it feels out of place, like a remix rap masquerading as a new tune.

The sliding androgynous vocal of Might Like You Better rubs itself raw against your ear for three minutes like a desperate last call at the bar. It’s good filthy fun, but once the sweat dries it’s hard not to cringe a little come light.

Nearly buried at the end of the album Big Heavy offers a credible slice of Blondie pop that’s quickly undone by another change in style on the next track – the maudlin closer Leaving You Behind with a limp Lykke Li sulking on backing vocals. After barely thirty-four minutes album’s done and dusted and as the drumsticks drop to the ground it’s hard to offer more than a shrug. Blank may “Get off on top on top and get on again” but there’s little motivation to replay the record.

A wait of three years to deliver a scattered and at times indifferent debut record years after the hype has died down won’t lead to love, no matter what the album title professes – Uffie and Kid Sister take note.