IN nearly two decades of pop stardom, Boy George has been called the devil, a queer, a prima donna, a heroin junkie and who knows what else.Now nearly 40, he just wants to be called a nice person.
“Being nice takes a lot less time and effort than being horrible,” says the singer, in an exclusive interview with The Post on the eve of Culture Club’s American tour opener tonight at the Beacon Theater.
“At the height of my career, I had a reputation for being difficult. But that’s because when you get successful, you tend to lose control of your life and you have the occasional tantrum. It’s the Shirley Temple syndrome, where you feel that having a hissy fit will change things. Too bad it doesn’t work.”
Born George O’Dowd 39 years ago, he’s been a man of his own invention and reinvention for 20 years while fronting the band Culture Club and more recently spinning discs at clubs as a deejay. Tonight’s show will touch on both.
Lately, Boy George, who lives in a neo-Gothic mansion in Hampstead, England, has been turning the tables on pesky reporters by writing a nightlife column for London’s Sunday Express.
“I try to be responsible,” he says of his work. “When I’m being critical, I try to do that with humor. You can be bitchy as long as you’re funny.”
The world first woke up to his artistry – and his drag-queen makeup – with the melancholy 1982 hit, “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me,” the first of several.
His flamboyant cross-dressing stage persona not only caused an international stir, it hid a heroin habit. “Back in 1983 and ’84, people were carrying placards outside our concerts that said I was the devil. There was one that I remember that said, ‘If sex is a sin, what is Boy George?’
“Back then, I was pretty innocent, young and confused – I was like Marie Osmond, only with bigger eyelashes. I’m probably a little worse nowadays because I know what I’m talking about and I understand the way the world works a little more.”
Since kicking heroin in 1986 with the help of a doctor, Boy George has discovered Eastern spirituality, including Hare Krishna.
“These religions remind you that you are responsible for your own actions and the way you live your life,” he says. “That’s why I was drawn to them in the first place.”
Unlike other pop stars, Boy George isn’t shy when speaking about his life, even the darker moments. He has openly discussed his addiction to drugs and his affair with Culture Club drummer Jon Moss, which took him years to get over and provided fodder for many songs.
For someone so famous, he’s very down to earth.
“I’ve never ever thought of myself as a star, but I don’t think of myself as just another guy in a band, either. I don’t want to make myself out to be just one of the lads, but why do you have to be one or the other?” he asks.
In Boy George’s universe, people like Madonna, Prince and Michael Jackson are stars. “I mean, you wouldn’t expect to bump into Michael Jackson in a grocery buying a bag of lemons.”
It’s not as though Boy George blends into the woodwork. As much as he loves fame, nothing rankles him like getting his photo snapped without permission.
“I hate cameras more than I hate journalists,” he says. “I’m not the Statue of Liberty, and people feel free to walk right up and take a picture.”
He’s known for his clever, dishy wit – but don’t try to read too much into it. In one of his more famous quips years ago, he said he preferred a good cup of tea to sex.
“Oh, God, sometimes the most mundane things you say have the most value,” Boy George says now. “That was a great line, but that’s all it is.”
