Culture Club - White Boy (Virgin)

The kind of image-heavy build-up that Boy George and Culture Club have had, lead me to expect just another all-trousers-and-no-action combo (well, all dresses actually, given George's taste in clothes). I'm surprised, therefore to find this an enjoyable helping of well-produced white soul even though it can't keep it up past the halfway mark on the 12". A question is prompted however: how much white funk would sell without all the make-up, gold suits etc? (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, May 13, 1982)

Note: Dave Rimmer would continue to delve into the themes of the sound and style of "new romantic" pop in his books Like Punk Never Happened and The Look.

 

Culture Club - The Medal Song (Virgin)

Go to Hollywood too, in a manner of speaking. The medal refers to one that Frances Farmer won whilst still at acting school in the Forties, and led her to that fabulous Babylon in the hills. She found the star system conflicting cruelly with little needs like Work, Art, Real Life. She couldn't take it and ended up in an asylum. Perhaps George is trying to tell us something? He shouldn't explain, but ... I remember when this group weren't so Mega and made records such as "I'm Afraid of Me" and "Time", and so does George. (Mark Cordery, Record Mirror, November 24, 1984)

Frances Farmer, the subject of "The Medal Song", was a Hollywood starlet who was committed to an asylum because she refused to conform to the star system. The song's conclusion would seem to be that pop star or movie queen, life's not so different to that of us ornery folk. And perhaps it's time we were reminded that George is only human. No one has a god-given right to No. 1 records, and the fact is, it's over a year since the Club's last chart-topper with "Karma Chameleon". There's not much of a tune on "The Medal Song" either, but that's no indication that this O' Dowd has had his day. (Paul Simper, No 1, November 17, 1984)

Culture Club - The War Song (Virgin)

George has come to the profound conclusion that both war and people are stupid, and since he delivers the message in just about every language except Lithuanian and Swahili, he obviously feels it's important. Still, trite lyrics aside, the song's so infernally catchy that I've been whistling it all weekend (although I can't quite manage the "Aaieewuuurigh!!!' in the middle yet), and it's got to be Single Of The Fortnight. Whether I'll feel quite the same when everyone from the neighbour's budgie to the weird bloke downstairs is whistling it too's another matter, of course. Oh well, I can't wait to see the video. (Vici MacDonald, Smash Hits, September 27, 1984)

There's been so much intellectualising about war – obscure allegories, murky metaphor – plenty of space left for clever clogs to say "War is alright if .. " So George lays it on the line, from his position a mass medium, mass appeal group: "War is stupid and people are stupid and love means nothing in some strange quarters." Embraced by a tune that sweetens the message without weakening it, this is the ultimate Culture Club song. We need all cultures in that club learning to say 'No'. Single of the week. (Martin Townsend, No 1, September 29, 1984)

"War is stupid", George reveals. Lyrics of true insight there. And a tune that succinctly combines all their previous singles, and a poster with the 12-inch, and an even happier bank manager. (Paul Sexton, Record Mirror, September 29, 1984)

Culture Club - Church Of The Poison Mind (Virgin)

An astute, ear-pricking harmonica intro, George doing his best Stevie Wonder impression and a backing singer [Helen Terry] whose voice you can feel in the pit of your stomach make for a solid chunk of soul that you may not even recognise as being Culture Club. Don't be put off. There's enough modern trimmings here to separate it from the recent swarm of Tamla Motown soundalikes - not least a good tune. For best results, dance and sing at the same time. (Kimberley Leston, Smash Hits, March 31, 1983)

Culture Club - Do You Really Want To Hurt Me (Virgin)

For a minute I thought this was an old Dennis Brown single wrongly labelled. Gentle, confident reggae track with a proper vocal on a fine, if moist-eyed, composition. A hit, quite possibly. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, September 2, 1982)

Culture Club - It's A Miracle (Virgin)

I've already heard this about a million times on the LP and I'm still not sick of it. If anyone is, though, try substituting "It's American" for "It's a miracle" in the chorus. That's how George originally wrote it and the words make a lot more sense that way. The B-side is a live version of "Love Twist" (recorded during last year's UK tour) and there's a really funny pic of Roy in braids on the sleeve. Meanwhile, the 12" brings us: a great picture of George in some kind of glitter get-up; a slightly disappointing "multimix" of "It's Miracle" and "Miss Me Blind"; and "Love Twist" (again) plus a live version of Blue Mink's daft hymn to multiracialism, "Melting Pot", with a really rock 'n' roll ending. Good stuff. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, March 1, 1984)

Of late, Culture Club's singles seem to have been somewhat less sharp than George's tongue. But where 'Victims' was laboured and 'Karma' just plain silly, 'It's A Miracle' is sprightly and charming. Helen Terry scats, the horns toot and everyone sounds full of the joys of spring. And George's recent revelation that the band are moving towards a harder, more raunchy sound is refreshing for all us ABC fans. (Paul Simper, No 1, March 17, 1984)

Culture Club - Move Away (Virgin)

The comeback of the media darling turned media brat. It's not that expectations weren't exactly high - they just weren't there at all. Which is why George and Co will be grinning all over their faces. I can't say "Move Away" is classic Culture Club because their music always left me cold, so that would be an insult of the vilest kind. What it is, is a sparkling production (Arif Mardin lending a hand), a creditable performance, and a very clever, radio-orientated pop tune. The seven inch is predictable Culture Club, the 12 inch is a revelation. George's tremulous warbles are pepped up with the sharpest of sharp production. Two years ago it would have been a hit just because of who it was by. Today, it might just make it on its own merit. Life's full of surprises, isn't it? (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 8, 1986)

Note: it's interesting how far Boy George's stock had fallen - the single was ignored for review by both Smash Hits and No 1 - both previously featuring Culture Club to a significant level. It was a good single, though. Anyone else remember Boy George appearing in the "A-Team" TV show?