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No relation to Kim Wilde of course, as it's neither of their real names (he's actually Ron Broomfield and at time of writing Wikipedia claims that he adopted the pseudonym because "He had sex with a hooker and then decided to call it the Wilde Flowers of sex." Citation possibly needed there.
It probably wasn't the best idea to look this song up on YouTube after watching a load of comedy clips either, because with that in mind this could almost be mistaken for a parody of loverman soul. Of course, that's partly because it's over 25 years old now and the parts that now sound so cliched might have been fresher then, but there is something decidedly unconvincing about it; he tells whoever he's singing to to kick off her shoes, although the title implies that he wants her to go home without them. It's slick, but going through the motions. Still, it continues the tradition of a slow song at the end of a Now album, which remains more or less solid (on vinyl at least) until the twenties.
Available on: The Best of Eugene Wilde
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