The Deram Anthology 1966-1968 (London/CD only) IT'S THE children we feel sorry for. Imagine poor little Zowie, Crowie, Zimbabwe and Trevor crowding around the levitating Martian breakfast table, clamouring at their father ­ internationally respected musician, actor and artis... er, musician David Bowie ­ desperate for more glory tales of his musical alchemy. "Daddy!" they cry, "what did you do in the '60s?"

....Bowie gags. The time for the dreaded 'Laughing Gnome' Talk has arrived. He sits them all down, hands them 'The Deram Anthology' and shamefully explains that while The Beatles were forcefully evolving music from the DNA upwards, he was sitting in a studio sporting a Bobby Davro haircut, swapping bad puns with a man on helium who was pretending to be a deranged, hysterical, chain-smoking dwarf. Pity those poor, shattered little faces. And there's more. For in the career-dawn period that this 27-track anthology covers, Bowie drank deep of the fetid lake of English whimsy, paddling in the shallow end, while Genesis and Pink Floyd were flinging themselves off the high boards. Which makes this collection Bowie's equivalent of the 'Donovan Is Jesus' tattoo on your dad's arse.

....At best ('Karma Man'; 'Let Me Sleep Beside You'; the a cappella graveside lament 'Please Mr Gravedigger') it vaguely hints at the Stardusted genius to come. At medium (most of the rest) it is sub-Anthony Newley chim-chiminy toodle-pip nonsense. And at worst ('Sell Me A Coat'; 'Little Bombadier'; 'Come And Buy My Toys'; no 'Smack My Bitch Up', surprisingly) it is Christopher Lillicrap, Rolf Harris and Mike Flowers' Lobotomised Pops covering 'Hits From Oliver!'. In sodding cravats.

....A version of 'Space Oddity', seemingly backed by The Supremes, at least drags Bowie's credibility out of the doldrums, but still we find him in tears, begging his offspring's forgiveness. "I'm sorry, children!" he bawls. "But in the '60s I was... TOMMY STEELE!!" 3/10