Kim Wilde: with us the small English romantic one

There is a beautiful story that Kim Wilde does not have a ‘Kid in america’. Moreover, even at its beginnings, which is eleven years ago already, the blonde was hanging on with sexy airs. Kim, less “wild” but more svelt and sophisticated (looking like a clone of Kim Basinger/Laura Ashley revisited on the sleeve) comes back to us with the eighth album peremptorily entitled “Love is”. The singer has continued the ideas of its predecessor “Love moves”. So the madam, I say, continues playing the affairs of the heart. It easily is guessed, she declines here eleven variations on same theme, she delivers us of her erudite interrogations on the alchemy of the elective affinities, those which lead invariably to what the common run of people calls the love. For her, and for her brother Ricki who co-wrote almost all pieces, this love is holy (“Love is holy”) and plunges everyone in happy state. In which states do I wander? Pride (“Who do you think you are?”), blind confidence (“I believe in you”), perseverance (“I won’t change the way that I feel”), passion (“Heart over mind”), torments of pain (“Try again”) or rapture (“Too late”). Oof! Kim Wilde meticulously explores all the reliefs of the map of dynamic pop-rock, standard but perfectly grounded. Unhappy in love (as she says it), but happy in the studio. With us the small English romantic one.