You don't need to have heard one note of music by Imogen Heap to work out what her fourth studio album Sparks might sound like. You get a pretty decent idea just by staring at the tracklist. Over there, a string of concepts like futurism, love and globetrotting awaits: 'Telemiscommunications' is followed by 'Lifeline', 'Me The Machine' and the captivatingly titled 'Climb To Sakteng'. Likewise, you don't have to be a connoisseur in the semantics of electronic and world-beat music to realise that songs covering such a wide range of influences are perhaps less likely to bear close resemblance to anything else being created right now.

As the title implies, it was her longing to get out of the studio, travel all over the world and collaborate with fans, locals and musicians, that became the sole catalyst for two and a half years of complete creative freedom. One minute this vocal gymnast is singing about her place in the world, "I'm weather beaten in a losing battle, punctured by nature becoming organic" on the track titled 'Negative Space'. The next, she takes a crack at being an app developer during 'Run Time', a song made entirely from a running app designed to adjust to each user's workout. Throughout the rest of Sparks, Heap trots from Bhutan, to London, to China, moving across the continents as fast as a burning match. But unlike the fate of wood and fire, her magic trick comes in the form of the song, 'The Listening Chair'. It will never 'burn out' because every seven years she will add another minute of a cappella to it.

Sparks captures an artist wanting to experience the full weight and brevity of making music in the 21st century. Life is faster and connections are volatile, so the leap forward for Heap is how she's fuelled by technology, how she believes it drives us, rather than buries us in a bewildered state of inertia. Looking back now it seems fitting that we caught up while she was buzzing frantically around central London, though I found her completely engaged and connected in the conversation regardless. We chatted about trekking across the Himalayas, Deadmau5, and a moment where she felt truly disconnected.

First things first before I rudely forget, I have just read that you're pregnant!

I am indeed, thank you very much it's amazing and it feels like a totally crazy alien kicking around inside of me. I can't believe that this being and I are going to spend the rest of my life together.

Are you experiencing any pregnancy brain? Is 'Momnesia' a real thing?

Yes! It happens in waves for me though, sometimes I feel really on it and I'm articulating all my words, and then other times I'm just completely and utterly hopeless.

What a beautiful stage in life you're in. The last time I saw you perform was in 2011, and I remember how we were all mesmerised by the microphones you had strapped onto your hands.

You know that's really something, because in a way the microphones on the hands actually turned into the Mi.Mu Gloves that I created. I had the audience side of it sorted to record on the move, but no way to action the computer to record on the move. That's almost where the gloves stemmed from, a wireless way to get the computer to do the things that I wanted it to do.

After going back and listening to your first record, iMegaphone yesterday, it seems as though you're constantly pushing the way you create music - and it's a result of your reaction to technological discoveries.

It's been a mammoth ride and I've just done so many things I never expected I would do. The only thing I planned for was the unexpected. You know when I listen back to all those old songs I remember the people around me, but it was often just me in the studio and I didn't want to have that memory this time. I wanted to have an experience filled with the memory of places, smells and hundreds of people around me instead. Every single song feels like it could be 10-20 minute snippets of my life.

But each one really does feel like a mini documentary.

For me, it's amazing to have this body of work and the story of each song being individually unique. The most important thing right at the heart of it all is that I want and hope people connect on a very basic level emotionally to these songs. Even though 'Xizi She Knows' is written conceptually from a point of view of an ancient lake worrying about its surroundings and moving quickly, on a human level it's also about the fact that it's okay to be okay. On a human level, you're beautiful as you are and it's a message to just be happy in your own skin.

There are certain moments within the songs that standout, particularly on 'Climb to Sakteng' your vocals bleed into his voice almost meshing as one. Do you ever feel some sort of pressure as a vocalist to push your voice?

I was never actually trained as a singer, so any chance I get I try to train and work on it. Sonam, the man who sings on that track with me, is incredibly dexterous and he has such an amazing voice it would probably take me many years to achieve what he does. Time stopped when I met him, his work is a methodical slow process to document all of Bhutan folk music so that it doesn't disappear in the weight of modern music and technology coming into Bhutan. I was very carefully treading to be respectful of what he does at the same time as being a part of it. Singing is in his every waking moment and in his culture to have those certain tones. Just the way he moves around the notes is incredible, but I don't want to try to imitate something badly or pretend to be in "world-music".

What was your original goal with the song before you travelled to Bhutan?

That song was such a strange experience because we were going with the intention of throwing ourselves into Bhutan and trekking across the Himalayas. We landed up going with this group of super athletes though, you know those people who go do things like Iron Man? We landed up racing at this ridiculous speed across the Himalayas, but as normal people without athletic powers! It was quite exhausting. We were racing to get to the next point before it got dark, trying to cover as much ground as possible and I felt really disconnected to this place. In a way, the music came afterwards because I wanted it to bring me closer to a more one-on-one experience that I originally wanted.

I suppose you tackle the concept of disconnection during the song, 'Telemiscommunications' too. It's a really a grim contemporary concern.

Ironically, that's the song I had the least connection with the person I was writing with! I've never met Deadmau5, I've only talked with him twice on the phone and once on a public hangout but I've never met him face-to-face. It was the only song written before March 14, 2011, which is when I started 'Lifeline'. I felt this disconnect when I was on tour previous to that with my ex-boyfriend who was in England and I was in the states at the time. Deadmau5 sent me these early tracks and as soon as I heard it I immediately came up with the idea because I was missing my boyfriend but we were having all these rows over the phone and all I wanted to do was just give him a hug and be there in person. Our relationship would just be awkward, with bad signal or bad timing. It would always sound like I didn't love him.

Then how do you counter that so it doesn't happen to you again? In this day and age feeling disconnected is so familiar.

I think in the end of the day I'm a huge fan of technology and I believe it's going to help us as humans to be better humans. I feel that the way to connect is to celebrate technology rather than call it a big bad monster. One of the core traits that run through my life is trying bringing us closer together, whether it's me and the environment or me and technology or me and my fans. Life is really about creating stronger and more fluid connections.

That's the coherent power of music isn't it?

Music is a gatherer.

Sparks by Imogen Heap is out now. You catch her performing some of those songs live at Reverb festival this Sunday (info here).