I find it more useful to organize influential works like trees rather than as lists. That way, you can find a branch that you like, and walk up and down its nodes.
For instance, if you like Twelve Monkeys, you could walk up the branch to Brazil, further up to _1984_, sidestep to cousin _Catch 22_, skip to uncle _The Trial_, and go up to _Crime and Punishment_ and _The Brothers Karamazov_.
Whereas if you like The Magnificent Seven, you might walk up the branch to The Seven Samurai, sidestep to Yojimbo, and go back down to A Fistful of Dollars.
When you put out lists of finite length, featuring only the brightest stars in the sky, you lose quite a lot of detail in your constellations.
Now you see, how many worthy titles are curiously missing?)
That is why I think it is more useful--and more polite--to discuss one's own favorites, rather than criticize another's set of favorites for its omissions.
And the primary utility of such an exercise is, in my opinion, to help other people discover works that may appeal to them. So the closer your set of favorites aligns with Bowie's, the more likely it is that you may enjoy those works on the list that you haven't yet read.
"Diff'rent strokes, for diff'rent folks."
If you don't like Bowie's list, you can make your own.
I had enough of philosophers and internationally acclaimed authors in high school. Literature teachers have their own canon of books that must be read, and I hated having someone else's idea of an influential book forced down my throat. While it isn't quite as bad as "stop liking things I don't like," an unsolicited "you should like more of the things I like" is still irritating, when I'm not in the right mood for it.