THEY WERE ONE OF THE MOST COLOURFUL ACTS OF THE DECADE, YET THE VIBRANCY AND MELODIES OF CULTURE CLUB’S SECOND OPUS BELIED THE HEARTACHE AND TENSIONS THAT INSPIRED IT – WITH THEIR FLAMBOYANT FRONTMAN’S SPOTLIGHT SHINING A LITTLE TOO BRIGHTLY FOR HIS BANDMATES…

MARK LINDORES

Culture Club’s Colour By Numbers made the Top 10 right across the world and shifted a staggering 10 million copies

© MBob Riha, Jr./Getty Images

As the nation reeled in shock when David Bowie draped his arm around Mick Ronson’s shoulder during his infamous Top Of The Pops performance of Starman in July 1972, a spark was ignited in 11-year-old viewer George O’Dowd, who recognised a kindred spirit in Bowie and made the decision to follow in the platform-soled footsteps of his idol. Immersing himself in the glam rock, punk and New Romantic scenes, he reinvented himself as a flamboyant entity in his own right.

A decade later, George’s own appearance on the same show to perform Do You Really Want To Hurt Me elicited an equally controversial reaction to that of Bowie’s – and the charismatic singer of indeterminate gender was baptised pop’s hottest property.

Although the initial reaction to Boy George’s androgynous look had shifted between negative (he was crowned ‘Wally Of The Week’ by TV critic Nina Myskow) and bewildered, his talent was undeniable and the soulful reggae of Do You Really Want To Hurt Me made Culture Club a global phenomenon.

As the band relentlessly promoted the song, getting back in the studio to work on new material was at the forefront of their minds. Do You Really Want To Hurt Me had proved thirdtime lucky for them, following the flop of their first two singles White Boy and I’m Afraid Of Me and, feeling that their debut album Kissing To Be Clever lacked anything else worthy of being a single, the band was concerned about the prospect of becoming a one-hit wonder. One of the first new tracks they recorded, Time (Clock Of The Heart) was rush-released in November 1982 and alleviated those fears, giving them a second Top 10 hit. A sublime slice of blueeyed soul, the track served its purpose of keeping the band in the public eye – and the charts – while they crafted their second album amidst one of the most competitive times in music, with Wham!, Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet all vying for the attentions of Britain’s teenagers. “With so many great bands around, people can forget about you really quickly – especially when you’re a new band,” George said at the time. “So for us, it’s important to just keep pushing the records out so that we don’t lose our momentum.”

Describing themselves as “an Irish transvestite, a Jew, a black man and an Anglo-Saxon”, the band’s name was an allusion to their differing ethnicities and it was the fusion of those different backgrounds and influences that gave them their signature sound. With producer Steve Levine on hand to mould the varying styles into a cohesive sound, and support from powerhouse backing vocalist Helen Terry and keys player Phil Pickett among others, the sessions for the second album showed a marked progression from Kissing To Be Clever, which had been more a collection of demos recorded as the band found its identity than a body of work.