Here’s the great thing about this album: Bowie was always pretty damn good. Even in his floppy-haired days, when he played the ‘Euronic’ troubadour, he was smarter than everyone in the room, and he made you think you were, too. With its charming interaction of Bowie and the radio hosts, and acoustic renditions that distill the strength of his early albums but avoid the tweeness that makes them a bit embarrassing, the first disc is the best. The second disc is more professional and less exciting; but it does feature Mick Ronson’s muscleman take on the V.U. (“White Light/White Heat,” “Waiting For The Man”), which Bowie has returned to again and again.
Rating: A
