Boy George, Bush Hall, London A chameleon comes to life The Independent: By Tim Cooper Published: 12 June 2006 If ever a fallen idol was in need of reinvention, it's surely Boy George, whose last public appearance was in a New York courtroom. His solo career petered out more than a decade ago, and he was last seen over here on the revival circuit with Culture Club. Compared with those arena dates, it's something of a comedown to find him in a venue with a capacity of just 350, even if some fans did come all the way from the US for it. But this is a deliberately low-key show to test out a batch of new songs and unveil a new musical direction - reggae. There is considerable surprise among an audience made up largely of hard-core fans when a large and ebullient Jamaican woman - Gisette, apparently - livelies up the crowd with some ribald repartee. Then, the all-white band break into an impressive approximation of roots reggae, and Shabba George, looking slimmer than of late, takes to the stage. He's in a typically understated outfit: a jacket emblazoned with sequinned peace signs, a T-shirt featuring a glittery Queen, and a trademark Philip Treacy hat. He has shed a few pounds, and the black-neck era (when a healthy dollop of slap gave George the semblance of a chin) seems, thankfully, to be over. His new direction isn't really a surprise: reggae was the sound that brought him to fame in 1982 with "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?". But he has delved deep into Jamaican music for inspiration and this is no pastiche. The opening tune is called "Czeck", and it's the first of a succession of breezy pop-reggae numbers of the type favoured by UB40. "This ain't love, it's a new kind of high," George sings, breaking off in the middle to toast in a full-blown Jamaican accent. Astonishingly, he pulls it off. A reggaefied version of Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way" - surely a comeback hit in waiting - is followed by a sing-along version of "Everything I Own", his last chart-topper, back in 1987. Beside them, George's own songs stand up well, and demonstrate some lyrical bite. "Inhuman Nature" is dedicated to Tony Blair, and "Out of Fashion", from the stage play Taboo, shows that George can mock himself, singing: "You're out of fashion. Your moment's over. A living tragedy." In the dancehall-style "Ragga Music", George reclaims the music from the homophobes, in what must surely be ragga's first gay-pride anthem: "In Jamaica, dem a batty boy," he sings with a happy smile. "Ina di UK - dem a batty boy." Halfway through, things change and the band reverts to the sort of soul-pop ballads that were Culture Club's trademark. Arms wave as a new song, "Hiroshima" - "about a boy" - injects a Japanese motif into the kind of big ballad that was always a forte. "Shadow Boxing" coasts along on a gently bubbling soul groove, George's voice as full of yearning as it ever was. Then it's party time. "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" prompts a mass sing-along, and the closing "Karma Chameleon" causes pandemonium, as the entire audience parties like it's 1982. Comebacks are never easy in pop music, but at least half of Boy George's new songs match Culture Club for melody and catchiness, and his joy at being back on stage is clear to see. No doubt about it - the boy done good.

The Times The raft of tabloid photographers waiting in the foyer had a different agenda from the hardcore fans who had hung around outside since late afternoon. Boy George's first solo concert in more than a decade was supposed to showcase new songs with which the singer hopes to return to the charts, but a question mark hung over his health after last year's arrest for drug possession. There was no sign of George during a support set from Amanda Ghost, his good friend and current writing partner, best known for penning James Blunt's You're Beautiful. Ghost should be a star herself by now, and her material, mostly midtempo pop-rock, was unusually clever, instantly catchy and powered by a strong, clear vocal in the vein of KT Tunstall. Bizarrely, Boy George's band was made up of four men who looked as if they should have been serving at the bar rather than sharing a stage with the flamboyant frontman. The 44-year-old, however, hadn't lost his touch when it came to backing singers, and a supercool trio in shades, hats and clothes culled from his own colourful collection started dancing as soon as they appeared. George, meanwhile, couldn't stop smiling, a surprise perhaps since the tiny venue was far from full. Yet the smiles and the dancing soon spread across the crowd thanks to a handful of summery, dub-heavy songs ideally suited to the sweltering heat. Melting make-up aside, George looked incredibly well in a high, white, hand-painted hat and black jacket adorned with glittery peace signs. As for the new songs, the ballad Hiroshima and dance track Look Pon U stood out, although the best was easily Out of Fashion, a drama-packed, autobiographical track with the sweeping feel of a big, show tune. Everything I Own was a reminder that Boy George did briefly enjoy a successful solo career, and Do You Really Want To Hurt Me? and an encore of Karma Chameleon reminded us that he was once Britain's biggest pop star. Can he come back? A tricky one, but either way, he's not about to go quietly.

Chameleon back on top CAUGHT LIVE! BOY GEORGE Siobhan Grogan At Bush Hall, West London The Sunday Mirror AS one of Britain's most colourful and straight-talking pop stars, Boy George may have remained in the limelight over the past decade, but it's actually a staggering 12 years since he played a live concert. In that time, of course, he's starred in hit musical Taboo in the West End and Broadway and worked as a hugely successful club DJ. He then hit the news last October when cocaine was found at his New York flat. Whatever he does, Boy George is never boring. So the audience at this tiny London show seemed distinctly curious about what on Earth he might be planning this time. In full makeup, a typically distinctive hat and a jacket emblazoned with silver CND signs, a sturdy Boy George certainly looked happy to be back on stage - acknowledging people he recognised in the crowd with a cheery smile. But he was also clearly suffering in the sweltering heat. Fanning himself with his hand and gingerly patting his forehead, he indicated his inappropriately warm outfit and declared: "I don't have any summer looks." The strong ragga sound of most of his new material suited the temperatures perfectly though, and indicated the star's forthcoming album will turn to Jamaican dancehall for inspiration. Such songs sat comfortably next to classic Culture Club hits like Do You Really Want To Hurt Me? and a final, celebratory version of Karma Chameleon too. Beaming at the crowd who danced on despite the heat, it seemed like Boy George was finally back where he belonged.

The Guardian Betty Clarke Saturday June 10, 2006 In between bitching about Madonna and swiping at Will Young - a "common or garden homosexual" - Boy George recently revealed he has "always been drawn to things that are quite homophobic, like reggae and ragga". But this isn't preparation enough for the sight of the 44-year-old Boy singing in an Ali G-inspired Jamaican accent: "I'm a batty boy in Shepherd's Bush, I'm a batty boy in New Cross." George has always worn his heart on his outlandish sleeve. He's had flings with reggae (during Culture Club), Hari Krishna, electronica and, in 2004, he collaborated with Avenue D, two ragga girls from his adopted home, New York City. His recent guest appearance on the Antony and the Johnsons album raised hopes George would himself embrace torch songs. He's certainly had enough anguish, having just escaped a prison sentence after police found him in possession of cocaine at his apartment in New York last October. Friends were quoted as being worried he was enslaved by his old demon, addiction. They should have been more concerned about his new musical direction. "I'm going to be playing some new songs, so you must be patient," he tells the crowd. Considering this is his first gig since Culture Club's brief reunion in 1998 and first solo show for 12 years, forbearance is the key to being a Boy George fan. But with his soulful vocals assuming the patois stylings of ragga, and his female MC shrieking wildly, the show turns into a test of endurance. Despite his obvious conviction, the new material is, at best, hamfisted. Inhuman Nature, an anti-BNP rant addresses the nationalist threat with: "It's hard for us to talk of purity/We've got foreign bodies in our monarchy." Worse still, the whole thing feels like a shabby rehearsal: guitar solos pop up where he doesn't appear to expect them, songs that he's not sure how to end. Despite ignoring the squealing feedback that spoils Karma Chameleon, George is no fool. "Thanks for tolerating this soundcheck," he says. Now the fashionista just has to realise his new identity is ill-fitting and gauche.