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BOY GEORGE 01/10/1983
Boy George in 1983. Photograph: Allstar/Sportsphoto Ltd
Photograph: Allstar/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar
Boy George in 1983. Photograph: Allstar/Sportsphoto Ltd
Photograph: Allstar/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

Culture Club's Boy George: 'I'm not camp. I'm a geezer'

This article is more than 9 years old

Margaret Thatcher is great, as is Hilda Ogden. As for sexuality – he's 'not a raving queer'. Enjoy Boy George's Sounds interview from June 1982, thanks to Rock's Backpages

"People that plan interviews are really boring. I just say what I want when it comes into my head. People in Scunthorpe don't care what I say. And I'm not camp either. I'm a geezer. I'm not a raving queer, I've got a bit of character. I just ignore people who shout at me in the street. I just stick my head in the air, I'm not interested."

This is the very last, randomly-assembled thing that Boy George said to me before the Sony was shut off. He'd already ventured a great deal, spouting (in the nicest way) endlessly in his unforced, painfully (in the nicest way) honest manner, but not always in the best possible taste.

George O'Dowd sings and writes songs for hitherto-unknown quantity the Culture Club (you've seen the PR shots) and expedites both remarkably well. I say remarkably, because most observers would probably consider him worthy only of gracing a few mock Grecian pillars sporting his latest outfit and hat.

George talks a lot, makes you laugh a lot, pokes fun a lot. He "did" the Sunday Times recently and they ended up with about seven tapes full of O'Dowdlings.

The printed word, however, came out as the Same Old Story … "George used to be a Blitz Kid, wears five inches of make-up and hasn't got any brains", ie Geo's version of how everyone else views him.

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I remember seeing George hold court in any number of just-so clubs, always looking the most magnificent spectacle and seemingly the most untouchable/unapproachable.

The reality is far from that – this man is hardly icy-cool. He giggles and the world giggles with him. He likes doing interviews, and interviews like doing him – George is what we in the trade call "easy copy" – he doesn't have to be provoked into comment (intelligent or otherwise) or controversy, it comes pouring forth from his ruby lips like water off a duck's back.

On this occasion he is interrupted only by near-death on upon imbibing some revolting vinaigrette.

He waxes lyrical about sex, clothes, attitudes, The Scene, but you kids want to hear about his record and his band, don't you? How about it, George? The monster is unleashed:

"Culture Club are really getting together now – it's really amateur anyway, so that's good, we're not a professional band, but we've been in the studio about four times now and we're really learning, and that's all there is to it really.

"I don't even care about the band. I don't want to go into depths about music 'cos I know nothing about it anyway. I can't even read music. All I know is whether I think it sounds good and if I like what I'm doing.

"Because when we started, the band really tried to be different. The stuff now is good, it's really vocal and it's just songs – I think that's the best way to do it.

"If you go out and say we're going to do high-life, calypso, reggae, y'know, you might as well do it all and just have the lot but not be directly one thing or the other, otherwise you've got no direction."

The next section of George Talk is peppered by sweetly tuneful renditions of 20 Greatest Pap Hits. He's very good at remembering niggling pop and rock melodies, old and new. He likes anything:

"If you listen to the radio and something beats you into surrender, like REO Speedwagon, and you really hate them, there's You Can Go Your Own Way in your ear all day and that's what makes a good song. You can't go round saying I hate everything that isn't young and trendy – I like Cliff Richard – I mean that, I really like him … It's So Funny … [We Don't Talk Any More] – that's a great record, great.

"I think every band's got something that's good, one good track – even the bands you hear on John Peel. I don't think White Boy is going to get in the charts, but the next one definitely will if we work at it enough. We've sold quite a lot of records for a band no one knows about. It says in all these magazines about the build-up we've had, but we haven't done gigs in submarines or helicopters 5,000 miles up in the air. Bring your jumpsuits! We just haven't bothered.

"When we first started playing gigs we were terrible, so bad we were brilliant – we did a gig in Chadwell Heath and got heckled by this builder who called me a fucking queer. I walked off without finishing the gig and the band were screaming at me!"

Trying to pin George down on a particular subject without him bursting out in all directions is not the simplest of tasks. I try and get him to talk about White Boy, CC's jolly fine funkescent dance mix.

Tell us about the lyrics, George:

"It's about us, and about inverted racism. You get all these bands into the black thing like "I Man Dread Jah Sellassie I Correction" and all this crap, and it's great if you're into it, but if you're white you're patronising black people by pretending, like Camden Town lefties who say, 'I've got a black friend, hey!'

"It's a waste of time: real dreads must think it's a real drag, you get these white guys that hang around black guys and they just think they're stupid, and that's what the song's about. And also a friend of mine said that the band was really white, so I wrote it about us. I like to make sense, but not make sense. I like stupidity, I like nonsense – sensible but not really 'cos it doesn't really mean anything …"

As clear as ganja smoke, George. But you are saying something, aren't you George?

"Yeah, but listen to that ABC track where he's saying 'the rhythm assembles no temple and drums' – I mean, come on, yes, and? Would they like to write an essay on that? T'ai Chi. Exegesis. The songs do mean things … everybody is influenced by politics and London Transport, life in general, I'm saying something, but it's said in a way that if you want to hear it, you hear it, and if you don't, you don't have to. It's very tongue-in-cheek, it's just funny that's all.

"Who cares. 'Stealing cake to eat the moon!' 'John Wayne Is Big Leggy'! There's loads of silly lyrics about, but they're great. Upset the public, confuse them!"

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George says Culture Club are all amateurs, but their record doesn't sound amateurish. It puts out. Why, George.

"It doesn't because we … we're working to a standard of sound, not trying to be too flash. It's very well-produced. The next single's really good as well – we'll choose from about four.

"I Tumble is really commercial, we could've released that, but there wasn't any compromise when we released White Boy 'cos we liked it. Enough people have bought it to make me want to carry on doing this. The sort of audience we want is just people that like music, that don't give a shit whether you've got blue eyebrows and pink lips. I dress up but I've been dressing up for years, so it's not like The Book, The Film, The Band, The Look, hey kids!

"The band don't dress up, they look really normal most of them, they don't wear make-up and they've all got girlfriends – well, nearly all of them! It's great, and we get on really well.

"Terrible arguments, though. Everyone's got a great personality. I'm a big mouth and so is Jon, the drummer. Someone said to me your single sounds like it's white people playing soul but so what? Who gives a shit?"

George doesn't. He doesn't think it's fair that you make a record and suddenly it's important what you think – George cares not a jot what he says and admits he'll probably say something different in half an hour. I attempt to ask why CC decided to do the Spandau-ish thing and release a funk-eeh record:

"It's just something that's sparked off. I can be sitting somewhere and suddenly get a really good idea for a hookline, and that's how it's fitted together. Not all the stuff's like that: we've got stuff for housewives, some that's really vocal.

"People go on about things being derivative – everything's derivative, anyone who says they're not is an arsehole. Spandau are, Haysi are – great. I think Haysi are good, I like what they're doing, and I'm not bothered about their hair! Bob Marley's probably turning in his grave.

"Nobody creates things, everything you see is a complete rip-off of something else. If you're not influenced by everything you must be a real moron. It falls into place, but it's not The Concept Album featuring Frank Zappa and Peter Frampton on guitar and the Bob Marley Female Singers on backing vocals – we're just doing it and having a great time.

"When it starts being a drag, we'll stop, and that's it. We're not doing it to be better than Blue Rondo or get in the charts – if we do, it's because we've worked at it. Anyway, my opinion changes every day. I'm a complete hypocrite, I'm full of shit, but we all are."

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I launch into the Quickfire Question Time session. George, it seems pointless asking you questions and pandering to the interview format.

"I like answering questions. I can muck about and lie!"

What's the point if you're going to lie?

"It's worth taking the chance, isn't it?"

Do you like shocking people?

"I think by being really ordinary you shock people. People that try to be outrageous are not."

People wouldn't say you were normal, would they?

"Only 'cos they think they're normal. Most people are really insane, people on buses with beehives and Doctor Spock eyebrows. I think normality is really offensive."

What music do you like?

"I hate Bauhaus. Peter Murphy called me a mincing queer. I haven't forgiven him for that. I like Madness, I love Yazoo – that's the only record that's stirred any emotion in me for the last 10 years. I like Bananarama now, they're so ordinary. I like Theatre of Hate, Clint Eastwood and General Saint and I like Amos, the guy who toasts for us, he's brilliant. And I love early jazz like Ella Fitzgerald, and Judi Dench, Hilda Ogden and the Swingin' Dors album."

What do you think of the Falklands situation?

"I think we're fucking lucky that people will fight. I think Margaret Thatcher is great, at least she's trying. She's a snob, but at least she's an honest snob."

Do you like seeing yourself on the cover of music papers?

"The band like it. I'm so used to seeing myself on covers, I've been on loads of mags abroad but didn't get any money for it. I got dragged out of Blitz at 11 o'clock drunk out of my head and then ended up on the cover of Stern and Donna. I looked like an Alsatian!"

Have you ever been physically attacked?

"Loads of times. Each time I've enjoyed it more! I've had fights, but I hate it, I just run away. I've got no pride."

Do you like feeling important?

"I like feeling! I'm just being a cunt. I wish Garry Bushell would interview me."

What do you think it's going to be like being in competition with all those heartthrobs on Top of the Pops?

"I'm not in competition. I'm not a heartthrob. I don't think I'm a particularly sexy person. I'm not like the guy in Tight Fit. I suppose some people might fancy me, but so what, I'm just thinking about whether they like the record, whether they like us on stage and whether they dance to it.

"Even if it takes us 10 years … as long as we're into each other, it's a career. You create your own situation, it's up to you what happens to you. There's no message."

*

George has an amiable, infectious personality that doesn't like being written about in "arty ways". I promised not to say "George is the reason there is light". He had this picture taken with a peacock in full bloom and is just waiting to see the captions.

"Pouff peacock", he speculates, chortling.

George is not big-headed, and promises not to be at least until he sells as many records as Julio Iglesias, one of his heroes. Culture Club are going to be working very hard, and George is currently beavering away at being completely inanimate.

I'll believe that when George decides to keep a straight face …

© Betty Page, 1982

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