Review – Kim Wilde

Here is the girl of the month, pinup girl, charm flag, pin it between your two ears. Lolita blonde with promising teen perverse lips, she reigns over a gang of teenage killers in black: Kim Wilde, wild girl, the kind that gives you the blues in the heart and forehead (because when you cross a sidewalk, reverb is next for you). She is beautiful, the daughter of Marty, she sings like an angel, her songs are OK. You think you’re dreaming. Rather proud of the songs, clean rock ‘n’ roll but not sanitized. Insolent guitars, smart keyboards, quaint arrangements. Perhaps it is the effect of the label, Rak Records, and its beautiful sailboat, but Kim Wilde makes you think of Suzy Quatro for the poppy innocence of her songs, the cool bash. This is rock flirting with the exciting flavor of the first kiss that steals a bobby-soxer which we did not even know the first name of five minutes ago (seems she is in the class of my little sister)! But where Quatro distilling the heavy sound of rigor in the Seventies, Kim Wilde propels tunes by sophisticated new wave. It tasts a lot of frenzied ska rock in ‘Everything We Know’, we rejoiced with ‘Young Heroes’, a pearl of a faceted melody, one hundred times more than the other flash ‘Kids in America’ released as a single, well-crafted but a bit of a recipe. In ‘Chequered Love’ Kim takes up the tics of Debbie Harry, she could well be her interim. ‘26580’ ska is still a mischievous, bouncy and brassy, with a fragrant white vote, which distinguishes pieces of the genre. Forget ‘You’ll Never Be So Wrong’, an odorless slow current model, by cons ‘Tuning in tuning on’, another slow, has a squeaky synth riff and heavy organ agreements that do not care about the thrill. I do not know about you, but Blondie was beginning to fail me for some time. Kim Wilde and her acolytes have certainly not yet the skills of the famous New Yorkers, but she already has an irresistible charm and intelligence for the thing called pop. Oh, how she’s cute!