Wedged somewhere between Madonna, Michael Jackson and Prince on the Mount Rushmore of ‘80s pop icons is Boy George. The 64-year-old Englishman first earned fame as the frontman for the New Wave band Culture Club behind smash hits like “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me,” “Karma Chameleon” and “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya.”

But what helps make Boy George (born George Alan O’Dowd) worthy of mountainside preservation transcends the songs. In an era where music videos were every bit as important as the music, it was his gender-bending identity — considered sacrilege by some at the time — along with his tabloid exploits and caustic words for fellow celebrities that made him larger than life. (He once called Madonna a “vile, hideous human with no redeeming qualities” and Prince a “dwarf who’s been dipped in a bucket of pubic hair”).

Decades later, Boy George remains a creative force, having released many more albums and singles as a solo performer than as a member of Culture Club. But it’s his day job in Culture Club that still pays the bills. The band still tours regularly and — unlike many ‘80s acts — boasts most of its original members (minus drummer and former lover Jon Moss).

Now billed as Boy George & Culture Club because, as Boy George tells the Tribune, “I’m the face on the Corn Flake packet,” the band comes to Gary’s Hard Rock Casino North Indiana on March 7. We talked to Boy George about playing casino hotels and more, including his beef with Gary’s own Janet Jackson.

Q: What do you think your life would have been like in the ’80s had social media existed?

A: It would’ve been nonstop fights and endless drama. Just chaos. It would’ve been awful. I’m really glad we didn’t have that because I’m much better now about what I say about people. We’re all so exposed that you can’t afford to behave badly — news travels fast.

Q: In an era where everyone is constantly visible, how has that level of exposure changed the way you move through the world and relate to people?

A: I was on The Tube (in London) the other day with a friend, and this young kid said, “Are you Boy George?” I said, “I am.” He goes, “Oh my god, what are you doing on The Tube?” I said, “I’m going to Hampstead.” People have these funny ideas about where you’re supposed to be. What do you mean you’re on the bus? What do you mean you’re walking down the street?

The thing is, I have a kind of freedom that a lot of artists like me never get, because I have a disguise. When I’m dressed up, I’m Boy George. Of course, I still get recognized when I’m not, but it gives me this fantastic sense of freedom. And I don’t see people coming up to me as being a bother anymore. I did 20 years ago, but not now.

Q: What’s changed?

A: I think when you learn that being nice to people is like a sort of magic elixir. Of course, you’re always going to meet horrible people, but I think generally, if you’re nice to people and you don’t have that kind of antagonistic, leave-me-alone attitude, it’s amazing how it doesn’t happen.

When you see Madonna running around Paris with a bag in front of her face, I think, what she should be doing is giving everyone a kiss on the cheek and moving on.

Q: You’ve been critical of Madonna, as well as Prince, Janet Jackson and many others.

A: I’ve had interactions with Janet Junction twice, and she’s disappointed me (both times) I’ve met her. And I’m a massive fan.

Q: In what ways has she disappointed you?

A: The first time I met her—which I write about in my book (the 2024 memoir “Karma”) — she didn’t recognize me because I wasn’t wearing makeup. I was out of drag, and she was a bit unfriendly. I said, “I just bought your (single), “What Have You Done for Me Lately” — it’s incredible. I love it.” She brushed me off, clearly not realizing who I was.

About half an hour later, it clicked. She came back, apologized, and that’s when I told her off. I said, “It doesn’t matter who I am. I could be anyone who just walked up and told you they loved your record. Why should that change how you respond?”

The last time I saw her, I was performing at an event for Naomi Campbell. I was singing, looked over, and Janet Jackson had her back to me. I thought, I wouldn’t do that if she were the one singing.

Q: A lot of the shows on this tour are at casinos. Do you gamble?

A: I don’t, but to a certain extent, every time you step onstage it’s a gamble. You never quite know what you’re walking into. That’s why I actually love casino gigs. People are relaxed, they’re checked into a hotel for a few days, they’re in a good headspace.

Q: There was an interview that I read recently where you said that singing “Karma Chameleon” was “like diarrhea through a wet sock.” I don’t even know what that means.

A: Let me be really clear about what I meant. When I’m asked to do those songs in concert, they’re like secret weapons — all the hits are. They work brilliantly live because they belong to the audience. People know them, they’re invested, and in a live setting, it’s a completely different experience.

But when you’re asked to sing “Karma Chameleon” on television, that’s when it becomes, “Oh please, really?”

Q: If there were a Boy George of Generation Z, who do you think that would be?

A: I don’t really know, because Boy George was a mixture of everything I loved growing up — prog rock, glam rock, reggae, punk, jazz. That said, someone like Sam Smith feels like a mix of me and George Michael — that beautiful, almost perfect voice. It’s technically exquisite, but also deeply emotional. I can see a bit of myself there, but he’s very much his own person too.

Q: If you could erase one thing about yourself from Google so that nobody could ever find it again, what would it be?

A: I’m almost terrified to say. I always say to people, “Don’t Google me.”

If you go

Boy George & Culture Club at 7 p.m. March 7 at Hard Rock Live Northern Indiana, 5400 W. 29th Ave., Gary; tickets from $84.35 (ages 21+) at 219-228-2383 and www.hardrockcasinonorthernindiana.com

Blair Fisher is a freelance writer.

 

 

https://www.chicagotribune.com/2026/02/27/boy-george-culture-club/