Let’s hear it for the Boy. George.

Music is life to me. I have meticulously soundtracked specific years, months, and events in my memory palace. My personal music collection holds over one thousand compact discs and over three hundred vinyl albums. I have attended over two hundred concerts, and I have the physical ticket stubs to prove it.

My collection and tastes run the gamut of genres and some of what I listened to as a kid on my path to self-discovery frightened me as much as it may have frightened my parents but for different reasons. I loved new wave, punk, and goth. I loved the music and the emotions that all three styles were able to capture, even though I was shy about allowing myself to take part in the fashion of it all. My mom loved the music, but her and my dad could not help but to point out how these bands I admired were all antisemites. I did not understand it at the time, but they were referring to the names of some of the most popular bands of the time like Joy Division/New Order and Spandau Ballet, and while they didn’t know much about David Bowie’s fascist Thin White Duke persona, they weren’t too thrilled hearing about the “visions of swastikas” in his head and his “plans for everyone” whenever “China Girl” played on AM radio back in 1983.

Culture Club was something different entirely.

Led by charismatic frontman Boy George (Irish), and backed by Jon Moss (Jewish), Mikey Craig (British/Jamaican), and Roy Hay (English), Culture Club took pride in its blend of cultural musicianship and scored a dozen hit singles from “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” in 1982 up until the release of Boy George’s smash cover of Dave Berry’s “The Crying Game” in 1992. And my parents loved them. My dad would sing along to “that faygeleh” all the time, while my mom loved his talk show appearances with Joan Rivers where a Magen David dangled from his necklace as he avoided questions about his love life to millions of viewers.

By the time Boy George was outed in the British tabloids as a heroin junkie in 1986, Culture Club’s reign at the top of the charts was already flaming out. The band officially called it a day after their fourth album, From Luxury to Heartache, flopped.

Boy George’s solo career never really took off, and his drug addiction ebbed and flowed as his chart appearances diminished. By the end of the 1990s, he had become a strung-out caricature of himself. As a long-time fan, it was hard to read the magazine articles that took so much pleasure and profit in his downfall. He did not do himself any favours either as the new millennium began. There were arrests for drug possession and falsely reporting a burglary in 2005 and by decade’s end, (Boy) George O’Dowd was sentenced to fifteen months in prison for false imprisonment and assault.

Against all odds, Boy George parlayed all that into a successful reinvention as Boy George: celebrity judge, celebrity DJ, celebrity mentor, and lead singer of the reformed Boy George and Culture Club.

Looking back, I often found it easy to excuse the drug addiction, arrests, political statements, and wardrobe choices of musicians on bad choices and the ignorance of youth. Some make bigger mistakes than others. They were ignorant. I was ignorant. They grew up. I grew up.

Over the past few years, I have had an exceedingly grim time separating the artist from their art as musicians from the past four decades engage in pro-Palestinian virtue signaling that range from simple “ceasefire now” statements to antizionist “critiques” that read as full-on Jew-hatred. I now find myself creating Spotify PlayNOTlists.

Boy George has always supported the Jewish community in the same way that he always supported the Black, Indian, and LGBT community. His opinions are loud, authentic, sarcastic, intelligent, and unwavering in standing against the erasure and silencing of all minority voices.

Last month, Boy George dropped a new song called “We Will Dance Again” in support of the Jewish community that puts the Israeli experience at the forefront of the October 7th narrative: And I am appalled.

I am appalled that the Boy used A.I. to create such an important artistic statement that he knew would be cheered, jeered, and splashed across news outlets and social media. Thankfully, he has recently posted on his Instagram that he would be re-recording the song with his vocals. Boy George’s strongest instrument is his voice, and we need to hear those words he put to melody sung in his voice, played loud.

In the meantime, I will play his single “My God” released in 2013 taken from the album This Is What I Do, in which faith itself becomes the true savior.

My God is bigger than your God
My God is better than yours
Put your bombs away
You need a little more faith
Don’t you know what your heart is for?
You should know what your heart is for