That's what David Bowie means to me

When I was a young man and first into electronic music, I was something of a purist. The Human League, Kraftwerk, Depeche Mode and Soft Cell, for example, were, musically speaking, just synthesisers and drum machines, and I though that was perfect. OMD had bass guitar which I wasn't mad about and the long romances leading my eventual abiding love for Simple Minds, Japan and Gary Numan were all retarded by their blatant use of the electric guitar.

My younger brother, Wol, on the other hand, was far more catholic. With so many bands that I came to appreciate in later life, I realised that I had first heard their music coming from my brother's bedroom: The Wedding Present, The Velvet Undergound and, yes, David Bowie. The 70s were unarguably Bowie's decade and Wol had all his albums, singles, rarities and many bootlegs. And I can remember hearing tracks from Low, "Heroes", Lodger and Scary Monsters And Super Creeps but, at the time, these albums failed to touch me.

Nearly thirty years later and I am now very familiar with those four albums. Low, "Heroes" and Lodger constitute the so-called Berlin trilogy and I highly recommend TJ Seabrook's "Bowie in Berlin: A New Career In A New Town" for a history of Bowie's time there. In 1977 Bowie released both Low and "Heroes" as well as writing for and producing Iggy Pop's The Idiot and Lust For Life. It's mind boggling to consider that accomplishment: four extraordinary albums in one year! I think he did some touring, too.

However, I must say I've never particularly warmed to Bowie's earlier 70s output, much to the frustration of musical friends. Over the years I think I've been given three or four copies of Hunky Dory but although I can appreciate it's a great album, there's no love there. The same could be said for all of his singles from that decade.

So, am I a Bowie fan? I guess I wouldn't describe myself as one, despite the fact I love the Berlin Trilogy and Scary Monsters, simply because people then assume that you love those albums, the more popular ones, that came before Low. But I do think Low is one of the finest albums ever made and I am in awe of Bowie in that period.

And if that was Bowie's Golden Age for me, then there was a silver age to follow, from 1993's Buddha Of Suburbia through to 2003's Reality. Which kind of brings me to the "David Bowie Is" exhibition at the V&A which I went to on Tuesday. Although the marketing mentions six decades of David Bowie, you can see from what I've written above that I think there were only really two actual decades of Bowie, separated by a thirteen year gap during which he was creatively misfiring.

But my considerable love of specific parts of Bowie's back catalogue meant that I wasn't going to miss the show. Perhaps predictably the bit I liked best was the Berlin room but, actually, I don't think the exhibition is that great. In focussing across the six decades that Bowie has been releasing records, there was a sense of skimming across the surface. There were costumes and handwritten pages of lyrics, there was video and a reasonable commentary on the headphone sets we were given when we went in and there was even some peripheral information - about the moonlanding for example - to lend a bit of context.

However, at no point did I feel that I gained any extra insight into Bowie. It would be entirely possible to come away from the exhibition without really getting any real sense of the incredible impact he had on the music scene in the early seventies. There was nothing that really demonstrated the incredible swerves in style and music that he seemed to deliver so effortlessly during the period from 1969 to 1980. So, although the exhibition is impressive and whilst, actually, I would recommend going along, I think it's a missed opportunity. I think there are many Bowie fans, my brother included, who could have used those resources to create a mind-blowing retrospective of David Bowie from 1969 to 1980. In the current exhibition, David Bowie Is spready too thinly.