It had been raining on and off all day in Orange County, but Boy George and Culture Club still had the Pacific Amphitheatre packed. A Sunday night on a three-day weekend with rain, yet these ‘80s legends were greeted by almost 8,000 happy fans.
The opener canceled, but any disappointment soon vanished – Boy George strode out to the stage and suddenly none of it mattered.
Donning an oversized yellow hat, a red polka-dotted jacket, and white on black polka-dotted pants, even all these years later, Boy George is first and foremost a performer. He invigorated the crowd immediately, and they were on their feet before the first song ended.
“You’re So Loud” opened the night, and the venue took the song title to heart.
It was obvious the crowd was comprised of longtime fans. When George called out asking where everyone’s tambourines were, the crowd answered by putting their fists in the air. Everyone around me seemed to know exactly when to throw their hands up and what motions were supposed to follow.
Boy George is a dominating figure on stage, and he brought a layer of theatrics to the rest of the band. At 65, he still has the kind of presence that does not require him to do anything more than be himself.
His backup vocalist seemed to never stop moving, working through a choreographed two-step. Behind them, the screens ran what I can only describe as a fashion show, shirtless men moving through stylized backdrops.
Pacific Amphitheatre
Costa Mesa, California
Roy Hay handled guitars, keyboards, and a multitude of other song elements, and Mikey Craig held down bass. The two of them still had real chemistry, exchanging looks across the stage in a way that felt like an inside joke between people who have been doing this together since 1981.
I think that was one of the reasons this band was so enjoyable to watch. Forty-five years after they formed, they still enjoy being onstage, and they still enjoy playing with each other.
“Church of the Poison Mind” went straight into “I’m Your Man,” followed by “Standing Tall in a City of Love” and “Move Away.”
Before “It’s a Miracle,” Boy George stopped to tell a story involving Kojak and a limousine, which I will admit sent me straight to Google. For anyone else in my position, Kojak was a bald television detective from the 1970s with a lollipop habit.
That detour was not random. Boy George talked repeatedly about the 1970s as the thing that made the 1980s possible, about Motown, Marc Bolan, and Bowie, about the artists who built the floor he ended up dancing on.
“I’ll Tumble 4 Ya” and “Letting Things Go” kept the momentum before the set turned personal. He dedicated “King of Everything” to his mother, and talked about how supportive she had always been through his battles with addiction.
He covered Bread’s “Everything I Own” and T. Rex’s “Children of the Revolution,” then delivered “Time (Clock of the Heart)” and “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” back to back. The deeper we got into the set, the more the music drifted from new wave pop toward something you would hear underneath a heartfelt scene in a movie rather than in a club. Whether that was intentional pacing or just the reality of a catalog that has aged into nostalgia, it worked better than I expected.
Before the band even went on, tributes to Dolly Parton were displayed on the screens, and Boy George took a moment to honor her. He spoke warmly, calling her one of the greats and someone fame had never corrupted. He told the crowd she had worked with them on one of their songs, and that all she asked for in return was a thousand dollars and a limousine. He said David Bowie shared many of those same qualities, then dedicated “Let’s Dance” to both of them.
He was also direct about the controversy that has surrounded him in recent months, following the release of his new song “We Will Dance Again.” “Now at 65 I couldn’t give a shit,” he told a crowd that mostly seemed to be around his age, and they cheered back in full agreement. He returned to that territory more than once across the night, always with the same energy, which is to say without apology and with a fair amount of humor. “If this is what being canceled looks like,” he told the crowd, “I seem to be doing fine.”
Their fans showed up in force. A lot of the crowd was in Culture Club and Boy George merch, and more than a few came dressed as the man himself. Bold prints, dyed hair, and an overall sense of fearlessness were everywhere. They followed the lead of the person they came to see, expressing themselves however they wanted and asking for neither permission nor forgiveness.
Unfortunately, the finale approached as the Pacific Amphitheatre has a hard 10 p.m. curfew. “Miss Me Blind” got cut down a tad, but they squeezed in a cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” and closed, as they had to, with “Karma Chameleon.”
Everyone knew it was coming and the crowd came back with every word.
Despite the questionable weather, by the end no one seemed to mind. What stayed with me was the atmosphere – bold prints, dyed hair, wide brimmed hats, and thousands of people who had clearly decided years ago that being too much was the entire point. They did not come to be surprised. They came to sing outdoors with people who loved and lived Boy George and Culture Club as much as they did, and they got exactly that. An ode to a band, and to the man who defined the ‘80s and their youth.
