R. Stevie Moore was a weirdo long before Ariel Pink was around, and yet Pink is the one in the spotlight for his genre-bending, freak-folk, oddball pop. But R. Stevie is arguably Pink's biggest influence, a prolific genius with over 400 albums of material recorded at his home studio in New Jersey. And Pink's slow emergence into the "indie stratosphere" (as it is often coined) has, in a sense, done Moore a few favours.

At 61 years old, Moore has finally taken his eclectic back catalogue on the road and around the world, and at long last, people are finally taking notice of the delightful, strange and sometimes rather dark songs he has created over his long, reclusive career. I am still gutted at having missed Moore's show in Manchester last April, as it is uncertain if and when he will come to the North West of England again. Let's face it, his shows aren't exactly headline news now are they?

Many people find it hard to believe that Moore has remained so anonymous over the years. Yes, some of his work is rather avant-garde and hard to get your head around, but then some of his stuff is charming, catchy pop music straight out of the 60s (or 70s, or 80s, or… you get my drift) which could be easily accessible for even the most casual of music fans. It is a rather sad tale in some ways, that a man so productive and passionate about his craft has been unnoticed for so long. Almost like a less dramatic version of the fantastic documentary Searching for Sugar Man. But it is nice to see that Moore is finally getting his moment, with fans of all ages flocking to his unpredictable shows.

And here we have Personal Appeal, a new compilation that brings together completely random songs from Moore's long list of albums. This one is a little bit odder than his last, 2012's Lo-Fi High Fives, which I enjoyed very much and which featured some of the more straightforward Moore tunes, a good starting point for new listeners (which I was, at that point, thanks to Mr. Pink).

So, why isn't R. Stevie Moore famous? In some ways, Moore answers this question on the first song 'Why Can't I Write a Hit?' by creepily muttering "the songs are too weird" repeatedly as the track draws to a close. Funnily enough, the song could be a hit to many people. It's upbeat, silly, catchy and memorable and overall a great way to open the compilation. Things get dafter as we progress into 'Makeup Shakeup', a grand orchestral ballad about Moore's frustrations with rouge and powder. This woman is beautiful so why does she have to wear so much? I can definitely relate to him on this one, that's for sure. The song is a great example of how Moore changes his voice song by song, album by album, just like Bowie did or how Ariel Pink does now and has done over his career. After all, why be pinned down to one style? In this case it is a slightly cockney delivery, and I always find it interesting to hear an American singer using an English accent, as so many British bands try to sound American. Take Anton Newcombe of the Brian Jonestown Massacre for example. Aside the fact it's been happening off the radar for years, it's a refreshing concept.

'Old' opens with some gorgeous, short-lived guitar that instantly reminds me of something from John Frusciante's album Niandra LaDes & Usually Just a T-shirt. It must be said that Moore records everything himself, and can probably play any instrument that's placed in front of him, hence the range and variety in his material. 'Structure of Love' shows us a tender, instrumental Moore with some jangly, repetitive chords underpinning a glam-rock wave of sound.

'The Picture' is a story of loneliness, as Moore laments about a photograph of a naked woman that he uses every night to presumably masturbate to: "It turns me on, the picture, but since you're gone, all I can do is look at your privates in a book". The sad and slow acoustic strumming and heartache might not be for everyone but it is a great little number all the same.

'Quarter Peep Show' is a throwaway song that sounds as if it was recorded in a barnyard and even Moore's loveable goofiness can't save it. But then 'I've Begun to Fall in Love' plays and the last tune is soon forgotten thanks to some romantic minimalism and beautiful vocals from old R. Stevie. One of the things I love the most about Moore is his underdog persona. Many of his songs depict him as a loser, and despite a few tongue-in-cheek quotes over the years ("I am a genius and there's nothing I can do about it") he seems to be a very sweet and humble man who is relishing the respect he is finally receiving. 'Pretend For a Second That You Are Very Intelligent' is a brilliant title for a creepy yet silly Moore song, with its unhinged nursery rhyme vibe followed by an out-of-the-blue noise-rock freak-out. Then again, with Moore, almost anything can happen and almost anything goes.

'Forecast' made me giggle, with Moore reciting a well-rhymed weather report over his trademark cheap-sounding drums, but overall the song is far from his best. However, I found it quite hard to find any stinkers within the 15 songs on Personal Appeal. his compilation is a zanier, kookier collection than Lo-Fi High Fives and I love them both - but if you are curious about the mad genius of R. Stevie, I would recommend the latter as your first port of call.