Heaven

It has taken me a long time to write up this gig.  It has taken on a dreamlike quality and I wondered if putting it down on paper might tie it into the realms of the ordinary.  But when you've experienced a little slice of heaven - you shouldn't  keep it to yourself.

Culture Club at Heaven - October 21st 2014

I had fully intended to see Culture Club at the O2 in December, I was in possession of a ticket.  But when your son comes home from school and tells you that his christmas carol concert is the same night as the Culture Club gig that you have waited more than half your life to go to…… well there's no decision to make.  Boy George will see a crowd of faces, my boy will be looking for one face in a crowd.  The gig was off.

Then the news that CC would be playing an intimate warm up gig at Heaven, the place it all began, the place I was too young to get into was almost too good to be true.  I didn't get a ticket in the original ballot but there was one final chance and voila 2 golden tickets and only one possible person to go with.

Heaven, the iconic 1980s gay club, is tucked beneath the arches at Charring Cross, just crossing the threshold made me feel 18 and somewhat wicked again. Beers bought, (legal beers) we took up our positions - perhaps 10 deep from the front and waited, with some trepidation for CC to appear.  Having seen The Boy at the Indigo O2 earlier this year, I was confident that he could still deliver a song.  But what of the band and in truth what of Jon Moss, who for a critical year or two of my adolescence had regularly fought Adam Ant for my attentions?

The band arrived on stage to the haunting yet curiously upbeat Church of the Poison Mind.  

The Boy, resplendent in yellow hat looked great.  Trim and healthy, relaxed yet aloof, confident and in control.  My best analogy is that of beloved and respected professor.  He was happy that we had turned out to listen but there was a sense that we could have been 20 or 2,000 and it would have made little difference to him.  He berated people for talking during a song and accepted as his due the love and respect of the throng at his feet.

Mikey Craig has clearly sold himself to the devil - this could be straight from the pages of When Cameras go Crazy (yes I own a copy)

And Jon Moss?  Well, I guess you could say he was looking hot, in the sweaty kind of a way.

Oh yes.  Roy Hay.  He was there too.  Nothing much changes.

The sound was gloriously culture club but there was an element of toddlers in the 'parallel play' stage.  All doing their own thing, happily sharing a stage together but without much that passed for true interaction.  There was no indication of the tempestuous love/hate relationship between Boy George and Jon Moss in fact contrived indifference was the order of the day.  

Set List

• 1. Church of the Poison Mind 
  2. Move Away 
  3. Different Man 
  4. Like I Used To 
  5. Human Zoo 
  6. Let Somebody Love You 
  7. Miss Me Blind 
  8. The War Song 
  9. Karma Chameleon 
  10. More Than Silence 
  11. Black Money 
  12. Oil & Water 
  13. Do You Really Want to Hurt Me? 
  14. Runaway Train 
  15. Encore:
  15. Its a Miracle 

Were there gems missing?  Undoubtedly.  'Time' from the Kissing to be Clever album and 'Victims' from Colour by Numbers to name but two. However, the audience embraced the old favourites with genuine emotion and energy and accepted with good grace the new.

The greatest coup of the night was  the previously slightly embarrassing 'War Song' -  Altogether Now 

'War war is stupid and people are stupid'  

being made cool with a strong dance beat and a little help from Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

This was the gig that made me cry.  This was the gig that I felt most connected to the ghost of my youth, even my Dad put in an appearance for me that night whispering 'Are you sure that's a bloke' in my ear - just to wind me up.  It was Black Money that pushed me over the edge and if the beer was a little salty after that, well it was a small price to pay. 

I only wish that I could send this blog to my thirteen year old self with a note to dry her tears - she may not be old enough to get into Heaven to see Culture Club in 1982, but she won't be too old to party with The Boy in 2014.  But I guess she would just wonder what the hell a blog was :)