I’d been looking forward to Wednesday night’s Kim Wilde gig for quite some time, and in the end, it certainly lived up to the anticipation.
Before that, though, fellow ’80s luminaries Cutting Crew took to the stage for a short support set. Highlights included ‘One for the Mockingbird’, ‘The One I Love/Play with Fire’ (a medley cover of “one from the ’80s and one by people in their 80s”, according to frontman Nick Van Eede), newer track ‘Berlin in Winter’ (for which Nick donned what looked like a Ukraine shower curtain), based on the band playing to “20 people” in said city two days after the toppling of its infamous wall began, and, of course, the song that put them on the map, ‘(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight’, complete with an introductory solo by current lead guitarist Gareth Moulton. Good stuff.
Twas the main event, however, that took things to a higher level. Unlike many tours for longstanding artists that peaked in popularity decades prior, Wilde’s Closer setlist actually made a solid fist of showcasing material from the recently released album (2025) alongside that from its spiritual prequel, Close (1988). In other words, a solid, focused spotlight rather than a relatively scattershot “greatest hits” tour (which would not have bothered me in the fucking slightest, given the grab-bag of bangers scattered across her back catalogue, particularly from her first decade of albums).
A couple of tracks from the latter kicked off the set, one of which being one of my favourite Wilde tunes and the one that’s pretty much been playing in my head since the tour was announced, ‘You Came’, *not * a romantic love song or, as I like to joke, an ode to shooting one’s load but a heartfelt paean—co-written with her brother Ricky, also on stage as her axeman—to her then-newborn nephew Marty. This merits note, as the presence of family loomed large throughout the night, from her brother Ricky providing instrumental support onstage to various members of her family, including her famous dad, Marty, for whom aforementioned nephew (and, also, her youngest brother) was named, being present in the audience, plus her sister-in-law Mandy (wo)manning the merch stall outside the main hall (and what remarkably wallet-friendly merch it was too! Shame they didn’t have my favourite shirt in my size, though).
Most prominent of all, however, was Kim’s beloved niece Scarlett, providing backing vocals for her aunt and even sharing the spotlight on ‘Hourglass Human’, a collab from Closer, which, to the delight of my cold , misanthropic heart, Kim introduced as the song about “being angry with the human race”. Her presence was appreciated durung older gems like ‘Stone’ and ‘Never Trust a Stranger’ and newer notables like the apoealingly titled ‘Trail of Destruction’ and ‘Midnight Train’. The two shared a great rapport onstage, playing off each other with vocals, synchronised dances, and, particularly on the aforementioned collab, some inspired costume changes, which I’ll return to in a bit.
For all the noted weighting in the setlist, the highest point of my night was undoubtedly when Kim took things back to the early ’80s with a selection of songs from her first two albums, Kim Wilde (1981, AKA the year I also emerged on the scene) and Select (1982); it was great to hear ‘Cambodia’, ‘View from a Bridge’, and especially ‘Water on Glass’, the first song from her first album, live for the first time in all their new-wave synth glory.
It was also great, too, to bear witness to the mentioned wardrobe changes, particularly towards the end of the set. Not content with donning matching air-hostess caps with Scarlett during ‘Hourglass Human’, Kim upped the ante by raiding the more flamboyant, hitherto unseen items in M.Bison’s (or Vega’s, for all the purists and Nihonjin in the audience) warbrobe, a glittery dictator-cap and cape combo, for nightclub-sculpted number ‘Love Is Love’, then topping *that* with an impressive black steampunk number during her cover of The Supremes’ ‘You Keep Me Hangin’ On’ (probably my first exposure to Wilde, prominent as it was during its release upon my entry into primary school in 1986). The encore double-bill of new song ‘Scorpio’ and the song which it seems to share a synthline with, her ever addictive most famous tune, ‘Kids in America’ had her return to dictator chic, black rather than glitter this time, for domination of the stage and the adulation of the audience.
So, yes, a bloody good set and a dream come true, given how long I’d waited to see her live since being rebitten by the gig bug. As with other ’80s icons I’ve seen, Kim pipes still sound polished and powerful, and her band, who she expressed a heartfelt love and appreciation for, continue to do her justice. Not even the presence of the female fifttysomethings in my vicinity acting like bad caricatures of screaming teenage teenyboppers could put a sufficient dampener on proceedings. The next, hopefully ’80s heavy tour and my ensuing ticket purchase for such can’t happen soon enough.
~MRDA~
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