Review – Here come the aliens

Kim on feel the noise

Given that her two most recent albums were a covers project and a collection of predictable Christmas tunes, it may come as a surprise that Here Come The Aliens comprises a dozen originals, penned mostly by Wilde and/or her brother Ricky. And it’s a particularly pleasant surprise that it’s a joyously thrill-packed goody bag of glam, disco and unashamed pop.

The title comes from Kim’s claim to have seen extra-terrestrial visitors in her own garden, touched upon in the opening anthemic stomper 1969 (“I know they’re after me! I know they’re after me!”), but we barely have time to alert the authorities before we’re into the synth-led shimmy of Pop Don’t Stop and the Suzi Quatro swagger of Kandy Krush. And on it goes, like the contents of the best youth club jukeboxes of the last 40 years crammed into one glorious album. Solstice is a beautifully-crafted power ballad full of ABBA-like piano chords and emotional yearning, Different Story struts like Goldfrapp with Brian May on guitar, and Addicted To You is akin to Donna Summer cutting a rug in outer space.

It’s been some time since anyone made a frothy but smart pop record like Kim Wilde used to, so it’s especially pleasing to find the woman herself answering the call.