It’s arguable whether the album has stood the test of time, but its unique place in Bowie’s catalog is impossible to argue with.

Brock is remarkably adept at capturing how manic depression feels and moves.

Unlike the protagonist of the LP, the Who continues to age well.

Never Let Me Down wasn’t all irredeemable, but even the better tunes were a mixed bag.

Is it as good as 1999? Hell, no.

The Marble Index is just as reliant on the idea of Nico – that voice, that vision – as her previous work, but the key difference is that it expressed, for the first time, an aesthetic that was directed by the artist herself.

"I’m a hopeless romantic really."

Instead of wishing it to be brilliant, what if we just accepted Tonight as a covers album? What if Bowie and EMI had marketed it that way?

The Big Heat is a fascinating document for the way it marks Ridgway’s transition out of the mess and madness of Wall of Voodoo and into a space where he could better express his vision and interests.

Feels like one of the most carefree albums McCartney has ever worked on, creating a sense of him following the music wherever it takes him.