Ignore the revisionist historians, David Bowie – one of the greatest artists to ever open an eye – had a rough time of it in the eighties, as this lavish box, the fourth in an on-going series, attests. He followed the brilliant decade opener Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) - not included here - with Let’s Dance (83), which saw Bowie reaching for the top of the charts after finally extricating himself from the clutches of former manager Tony Defries. He told co-producer Nile Rodgers he wanted hits, and that’s exactly what he got. Roping in the then relatively unknown blues guitar wunderkind Stevie Ray Vaughan, who grabbed his chance and never played better, they knocked out a polished jewel, although a more conventional one than the faithful were used to. The hits are all here, but ‘Shake It’, ‘Without You’, and a dynamic re-working of ‘Cat People’ are their equal.

Tonight (84) is just as bright, but nowhere near as good. ‘Loving The Alien’ is one of his best songs from the period, and ‘Blue Jean’ is a fine single, but the rest of it has aged badly, especially the ill-advised stab at the Beach Boys’ ‘God Only Knows’. By his own admission, Bowie was no longer that bothered.

Never Let Me Down (87) is simply the worst record with Bowie’s name on it that isn’t about laughing gnomes. The production is so of its time that Mickey Rourke turns up rapping on ‘Shining Star’. ‘New York’s In Love’, ’87 And Cry’, the execrable ‘Glass Spider’ nonsense – the songs are just bad. ‘Too Dizzy’, a track Bowie disowned, has been airbrushed out completely, although how he picked just one above the rest is a mystery. I remember it. It’s awful.

The big selling point of this box is a “reimagining” of this nadir by Bowie alumni. Silk purses do not come from sow’s ears, but it is definitely an improvement. The better songs – ‘Time Will Crawl’, ‘Zeroes’, ‘Never Let Me Down’ - benefit from having the 80s plating scraped off them to be rebuilt from the ground up, but this is hardly the revelation the Tony Visconti’s remix of Lodger was on the last box.

Two live shows are included - Serious Moonlight (83), which long time fans may already have on a VHS tape in their attic, is perfectly fine, if a little slick, but Glass Spider (87) is borderline ridiculous. The spoken interludes were perplexing when you were watching the show - his Slane stop was one of the first big shows I ever attended and should really have put me off for life - but make no sense at all now. Songs like ‘Rebel Rebel’, ‘The Jean Genie’, Fashion’ and ‘Fame’ are impossible to ruin completely, but this team of yahoos, spurred on by the untethered squawking of Peter Frampton’s lead guitar, give it a good go.

As with the other boxes, remixes and stand-alone singles are included on the last discs. There’s good stuff here like the epic ‘Absolute Beginners’, ‘This Is Not America’, and B-sides like ‘Girls’, and ‘Underground’ is all right too, especially when set against the rest of the lousy Labyrinth soundtrack, but the remaining extended and ‘vinyl’ versions are for completists only.

After this Bowie turned up the noise with Tin Machine, which divided fans further, but at least it rocked and at least it sounded like he gave a damn. It was a precious first step back in the right direction.

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