Boy George
This Is What I Do
Very Me Records
It’s nice to hear this record – nice: because it is good, it is very much a return to form, and that doesn’t mean it’s as good as back in the day, back when George was showing off that beaut white soul-singer voice with the earliest Culture Club material. But, much like that run of albums across the late 1990s/2000s by Marianne Faithfull this is all about the survivor telling the survivor’s tale – singing it. Showing it in the voice. Time may no longer be the clock of the heart and more the countdown to(ward) extinction – and I don’t know about you but I got bored with the club-hopping DJ/trendsetter stories, bored further by the suggestions that he was all but battling it out with Britain’s other great white soul-singer/hedonist (The other George) Seemingly in a race to that extinction countdown.
I like hearing the soft-reggae sound that traces back to bits of Culture Club, and to hearing the confessions (Love and Danger), to hearing a man who sounds reborn (My God) and to hearing that he’s finally pulled finger – the very Morrissey-like opener, King of Everything makes the proclamation clear.
You never believe Moz of course. You believe that he believes himself but with George you can’t doubt when he sings of being addicted to love and danger, and there are moments here – such as Bigger Than War – where he sounds cooler than he ever did; the sort of tune (and the clue is there: tune) that Primal Scream has spent its pointless lifetime trying to create.
Of course there were British papers calling for this as Comeback of the Year and it is – in some sense – easy to see why. But that’s not quite true. To come back you need to go away. This is more deserving of a Most Improved Player-type award.
And wouldn’t he just fucking hate that.