of Montreal are not a flash-in-the-pan band. However heartily you might sigh when the likes of Justin Bieber release “Best Of” albums (he’s only been born 5 minutes, after all) Kevin Barnes’ project is a genuinely worthy candidate for retrospection. The band, though, have never been ones for doing the obvious or expected. A shiny, slickly re-mastered “of Montreal: The Best Of”, along with gaudy artwork and a super-exclusive accompanying pamphlet would certainly shift copies; but there’s an air of slight resignation when the greatest hits era strikes – an admission, perhaps, that a band has seen better days. Of Montreal, however, still continue to be incredibly current; you only have to look at the collaboration with pop darlings Solange Knowles and Janelle Monae to see they are still heavily in demand. So, far from winding down into a comfy retirement, of Montreal have followed up this year’s Paralytic Stalks with this collage of unreleased or rare tracks. Entirely devoid of chronological structuring, the album spans from 2007’s Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? to the present, and serves as a slightly chaotic artist’s sketchbook of half-imagined ideas or concepts; a splurge of Kevin Barnes’ creative mind committed to disc.

For the casual passerby there is plenty of fun to be had with Daughter of Cloud. Even if you couldn’t give a flying monkeys about the rich musical narrative that bridges the gap between Hissing Fauna and Paralytic Stalks, of Montreal’s oddball funk-laced sound is imprinted everywhere, and a moment of balladry from ‘Feminine Effects’ is more than enough excitement; even without acting as a foreground to a back-story. ‘Sails, Hermaphroditic’, a glammy, wooping ode to post-coital strawberry pancakes, and also an ever-so-slightly creepy love story (see: “If I could Dr. Funkenstein the world … I would change the shit out of you”) is particularly good; not your typical discarded b-side.

Band fanatics will also connect with Daughter Of Cloud, with the richest pickings to be found in the moments showing most experimentation. Neil Young cover ‘Expecting To Fly’ is a plunking and melancholy lament – a far cry from the unbounded optimism that dominated False Priest - and along with ‘Tender Fax’ it’s a show of exposed tenderness. ‘Kristiansand’ too seems very raw at times, stepping on the pinky toe of fellow Elephant 6 alumni Neutral Milk Hotel. Daughter of Cloud, in fact, is packed with moments of vulnerability. It also, in places, gets downright weird. ‘Steppin’ Out’ feels particularly unsettled and schizophrenic, with all the grounding of half-set jelly on an inflatable helium-filled plate. Beginning with a misleadingly cheerful introduction that could comfortably feature in universally suitable children’s film The Little Mermaid, things quickly escalate. “Tuck me in like a bedtime story, act all horny” says Barnes, mustering his creepiest and most embarrassing pseudo-rap voice, and certainly crossing Disney’s PG threshold. Moving swiftly into the jittery paranoia of ‘Hindlopp Stat’, it’s a fragmented blend of restlessly industrial electronica crossed with David Bowie at his most nightmarish.

Therein lies both the main appeal and primary pitfall of Daughter of Cloud. Existing converts will delight in the psychedelic cacophony, but those entering of Montreal’s world for the first time will most likely be left in a state of upheaval and disarray, slightly suffocated by the sheer diversity of ideas packed into such a small space. If there is one thing we can all agree on, though, it is that of Montreal can do far more than play slap-bass and yelp along to guitar jams. If you needed convincing that this band is multi-faceted, this rather extreme sampling of half-scribbled ideas and barely trodden paths should serve as proof. A “Best Of” or comprehensive album this is not, but as an accompaniment to of Montreal’s main catalogue, Daughter of Cloud is an invaluable companion.

Listen to Daughter of Cloud