Gig review: Culture Club at First Direct Arena, Leeds

An old-fashioned phone box, scrawled with graffiti and vaguely worse for wear, slowly ascends to the top of a dominant staircase. From within, George Alan O'Dowd emerges with all the flair of a matador preparing to salute the crowd before he enrages the bull – except his red cape is a jacket covered in post-it notes, his montera is a bowler hat bedecked with hundreds of broken mirror pieces, and his trousers are cashing cheques that even the Bank of England would balk at.

Boy George – for it is he, indeed – has never been one known for understatement. But this lavish entrance, to the rigorous funk chassis of White Boy fully lives up the loud and proud creed both he and Culture Club have spun for over forty years. This stop at Leeds’s First Direct Arena amid a wet and windy December night - and yet still almost filled to the rafters - is a celebration of the vintage new wave group’s survival, and the singer is determined to ensure its nostalgic salute delivers.

It is remarkable that the band – George, guitarist Roy Hay and bassist Mikey Craig these days – is not only playing these enormo-domes, but still here after all these years in the first place. Their frontman has had his share of personal and professional troubles over the years – but here, with his wry quips and self-deprecating humour, may well have taken the final step in rescuing his reputation from a national punchline to a pop-culture treasure.

This run celebrates their first two records, Kissing to Be Clever and Colour by Numbers, with them played back-to-back in sequential order. The format not without drawbacks - their two biggest hits, the reggae balladry of Do You Really Want to Hurt Me? and country soul of Karma Chameleon arrive back-to-back mid-show, resulting in a latter-half lull that sees a few fans drift.

But while he may not have the range he once did, George’s deeper voice packs a well-worn grit and soul that makes him arguably better than ever, superbly showcased on a piano-led That's the Way (I'm Only Trying to Help You) dedicated lovingly to his mother. As Church of the Poison Mind kicks the home straight into overdrive, he cannot contain his delight. “I can’t hear the heckling!” he quips. “You’ll have to shout louder!” This is, ultimately, a poignantly triumphant love-in.