Album Review: Kim Wilde - Here Come The Aliens

Upfront disclaimer: In 1981, your humble writer - then barely tall enough to put the 7" of Kids In America on his mum's record player - proclaimed Kim Wilde would one day be his wife. Hopes of said nuptials were quashed long ago as Wilde went on to have quite a shimmering decade of almost-flawless pop brilliance while your writer grew up to become a flight attendant.

On this 14th studio album, loyal brother Ricky once again co-writes and niece Scarlett Wilde (an adoptive Sydneysider) also co-writes and provides stunning wall-mount-worthy cover art. However, a total commitment to a very dated brand of shapeless rock-pop, devoid of the type of joyful power choruses that drove her peak career to enviable highs, results in a joyless experience. Stereo Shot is simply Goldfrapp's Strict Machine without the dripping sexuality while Cyber Nation War and Rock The Paradiso just grate. Rosetta delivers much-craved sweetness, recalling European Soul (from 1988's Close) but tucked at the end, its beauty is overshadowed by the noise that precedes it.

Sadly, Here Come The Aliens sounds like someone else's album, with Wilde divorced from the cheeriness that has made her such a retro-circuit gem in recent years.