Culture Club
(Illinois Entertainer, March 1983)
By Boy George O'Dowd, and before the dust settles, a lot of people are going to have to change their
minds about new music.
"I'll get into a taxi in London, " says Boy George, "and the cab driver will say, 'Oh, I quite like your
record, but I'm a bit old.' Then I have to tell him, 'No, that's where you're wrong -- you're not too old.'
Because the record is geared to an adult audience."
All kinds of adults (right down to the three-piece suit variety) all over the nation are listening to Culture
Club's hit on their special brand of easy listening radio stations -- and liking it. So is anyone who listens to
AOR, pop or black radio. The sound is contemporary, yet rooted in 1960s soul a la Marvin Gaye. Bold,
yet not so innovative as to scare away the people who make radio decisions. In short, the perfect single.
"If you write a song about love," says Boy George, "it doesn't just apply to young people. It applies to
everyone, whether they've got a hump back or two heads. Love is a universal thing."
Hardly an unusual statement coming from a lapsed Catholic from Bexley Heath, Kent in England. George
describes his parents as being "the same as me, they believe that if you're going to do something good,
you do it, you don't talk about doing it." All the same, he was thrown out of school at 15, and spent his
later teen years working at such jobs as fruit packer, milliner and printer.
On his way to becoming one of London's most talked about and photographed fashion gadflies, Boy
George began working as a window dresser for a middle-aged gentleman who owned some clothing
shops. Eventually, George came to have a store all his own, giving him a kind of financial security so he
could pursue his first love -- singing.
While casting about for band members in a less than serious and organized way, Boy George came
across Bow Wow Wow guitarist Matthew Ashland, who convinced him to show up at one of the band's
rehearsals and give the lovely (but young and impressionable) Annabella a run for her money. According
to George (who heard it from Ashland), Annabella was wavering in her commitment to Bow Wow Wow,
even though the group was having great success in the U.K.
"So I just basically stepped in," says George. "But nothing came of it. Malcolm (McLaren, Bow Wow
Wow's svengali) didn't want me in the band. And the rest of the group didn't like me."
But George and McLaren persisted in their own ways, and when the opportunity arose for Boy George
to sing with a jazz band at a McLaren show, Malcolm welcomed the chance to showcase another
"discovery." So with no musical training of which to speak, and even less experience, Boy George finally
got his singing debut on stage. He offers surprisingly little by way of explaining what motivates his talent
and desire.
"I used to get up at parties and sing a lot," he says. "I've always liked singing. I saw a lot of people get
bands together which were great as an idea, but there just weren't any vocalists -- nobody could sing!"
Culture Club was born about two years ago, after bassist Michael Craig talked with Boy George about
getting a group together.
"Michael came along and I said, 'Oh great. Someone's approached me.' So I just decided to try a band. A
few weeks later a friend gave me Jon's number and that was it really. It just started. These people told
me Jon had played with some punk bands and I didn't think it would work out. But it was better than
nothing. To not try was the worst thing to do."
Jon Moss was just finishing up a two-year hiatus from the life of a journeyman drummer when Boy
George rang him up. Before that he had held positions with no less than the Clash (two months), toured
with the Stranglers, joined the Damned, turned down a gig with the Ramones and played with Jona
Lewie, Jane Aire and on Car Trouble and Kick by Adam and the Ants. He recruited former hairdresser
Roy Hay to play guitar and keyboards, completing the quartet. It was a classic case of all four members
being in the right place at the right time.
Boy George explains Culture Club's success in part to the band's just knowing what it wanted, and having
the business sense not to get trapped, either financially or musically.
"In England in the Seventies," says George, "the 'star' thing was very big. People really noticed the star
system. Like Gary Glitter. But a lot of those people worked very hard and didn't make a penny because
they signed bad deals and made a lot of mistakes. When you're in this business, there are a lot of people
who would quite gladly take your problems off your hands, and while doing that take a lot of other things
off your hands as well. You just have to be very careful.
"I'm not doing it for money," he adds. "But on the other hand, I'm not going to be screwed into the
ground by anyone. I know if I have no money than I won't be able to make records, and then I'm just
not going to be happy."
So far, George's only record, Kissing To Be Clever, has been well- received both on a critical and
commercial level. While some may complain that Culture Club fits too snugly into the Haircut
100/ABC/Thompson Twins genre of slick Euro-dance rock, the band's honesty shines through on such
tracks as "You Know I'm Not Crazy," a total blend of calypso, salsa and modern dance rhythms, and in
the apolitical urging of "White Boys Can't Control It." Boy George knows the difference between selling
art -- and selling out.
"You can't really sell ideas in America," he says, sounding relieved. "You can sell music, but you can't
sell ideas. You can sell ideas in England, though. There's stuff that goes to #1 here that makes you want
to scream.
"One thing I've noticed about youth culture in England," he continues, "with the punk thing and the New
Romantic thing, is that it didn't actually amount to much. It managed to frighten some adults, however.
And now I have the chance to destroy the generation gap."
Culture Club will seek out a gap to destroy during a several week tour of the U.S. In March, and through
the continued success of Kissing To Be Clever. Just prior to coming over to 'the States' the band
recorded a new 45, "Church Of The Poisoned Mind," but it could be a while before that record sees a
domestic release. Boy George also has been taking breathing lessons to help a problem he's had since
birth -- asthma.
"If I learn to sing and breathe properly, I'll get rid of the asthma," says George. "That was really one of
the main reasons for taking the lessons. But I've got no patience for that sort of thing.
"Actually, my asthma enhances some of the singing," he says, as if having second thoughts about taking
care of his health. "That's how I get that breathiness which is quite soully."
Email: scullygirl@hotmail.com
