DAVID BOWIE ChangesBowie By one of those neat symmetries, David Bowie introduces his prime persona at the very end of the '60s with "Space Oddity", and laid it to rest at the dawn of the '80s in "Ashes To Ashes". In between Major Tom underwent renaming, redecoaration and the odd character tweak but remained much the same - glamorously half-human, adored but then forced into burn-out or even self-destruction. Add to that unbridled androgyny and lyrics that positively whinnied with innuendo and you have a figure that for a full decade spoke eloquently to the self-absorbed teenager with a taste for greasepaint.

....Essentially the compilations "Changesone"-and "twobowie" reissued with four '80s singles substituting for '70s tracks, this 21 track (18 on CD) double album presents the hits (with the notable exceptions of "Drive-In Saturday", "Sorrow", "DJ " and "Boys Keep Swinging") by which the former David Jones proceeded from horrid posturing ninny to a piece of pop's furniture of such acceptabillity that chumming up with Bing Crosby seemed only slightly incongrous. Today's ears might hardly believe that so wordy and allusive a song as "Life On Mars?" could ever thrive in the charts; less credible still in this ara of rigidly trademarked styles is Bowie's almost overnight transition from riff merchant extraordinaire - Rebel Rebel not only out-Stones the Stones but is surely the '70s best pre-punk rock'n'roll 45 - to supple sex'nsoul maestro with Fame.

....This latter, according to Carlos Alomar, was a result of Bowie hearing John Lennon strum Shirley And Company's hit Shame Shame Shame and integrating it with the R&B standard FootStomping. Here it is again 15 years later, trailing this compilation and thus remixed by Arthur Baker for today's club and radio-play - yet another layer but this time not altogether welcome, the slinky subtlety of the original lost admist gunfire rimshots and the like, as if explicit sex scened had been written into The Great Gatsby to relaunch it on the airport bookstalls. Indeed, it was the international Walkman crowd that turned Bowie into a blue-chip institution in 1983 with "Let's Dance" - at which point Prince replaced him at rock's cutting edge. But '70s teens will prefer to remember him with nostalgic glow intact - as the most consistently brilliant singles artist of our time.