I don't think demons ever go

IT SEEMS that wherever Boy George goes, controversy follows. The former lead singer of 80s gender-bender band Culture Club has always been outspoken and outrageous, but most recently he's been ruffling some celebrity feathers.

He has branded Little Britain star Matt Lucas a ''prissy, niggly diva'', verbally attacked Sir Elton John for duetting with rapper Eminem, who has been criticised for his homophobic lyrics, and accused Madonna of being a hypocrite for using the gay community to boost her career.

He also criticised George Michael for not coming out earlier and then getting arrested in an LA lavatory, fuelling the myth that gay men are "rampant".

All this might suggest that the 43-year-old, who now lives in New York and has re-invented himself as a club DJ, fashion designer, photographer and author, is turning into a bitter and twisted old queen. But as we meet today in London, a make-up free George, dressed down in black wool jacket and faded pink trousers, says his comments about fellow celebrities have been taken out of context.

''If you read the stuff in context, it's not mindlessly bitchy. Anyone who feels they've been slighted should just read my book and see that it's quite well rounded,'' he insists. ''I've read reports that I hate Madonna, but I don't hate anyone. I do criticise her, but she is a woman of extremes. I think Madonna's really interesting and I think she'd be really insulted if I hadn't written about her.''

Boy George met Matt Lucas when the comedian appeared in George's West End musical, Taboo, which centred on 80s club culture. ''We just didn't get on. I don't think there's any love lost between me and Matt whatsoever.'' But to call him a 'prissy, niggly diva'? ''Totally, he is,'' he laughs.

It's 15 years since George had to deal with the fall-out from serious drug addiction, the failure of his relationship with Culture Club bisexual drummer Jon Moss and the collapse of the band which brought us Karma Chameleon, Do You Really Want To Hurt Me? and Victims, among other hits.

Today, the singer/songwriter notorious for his catty outbursts and temperamental nature is charming, despite having been out clubbing until 5am and snatching only a few hours' sleep.

''I was in a club last night and some guy walked up and said, 'I wish I was gay, because I love you','' he laughs. ''That would never happen in New York.''

Sporting a closely cropped haircut and a large Star of David tattoo on his head, there's none of the trademark bad behaviour, although he says he still has tantrums and cares less about what people think than he used to.

''I'm definitely a lot less volatile than I was 10 or 15 years ago. One of the aspects of celebrity that I've always been uncomfortable with is people fussing around you.''

You get the feeling that behind the bitchiness lies a vulnerable soul who has spent a long time searching for true happiness. He's admitted he's attracted to heterosexual men, for instance (although he believes anyone can be swayed). But the very nature of his desire means that it's all likely to end in tears of love unrequited.

He's gone on several spiritual journeys to India, been through six years of therapy and is still trying to understand aspects of himself.

His father, Jerry O'Dowd, whom he had not spoken to since his parents divorced, died last year and he has been through a wealth of emotion about his feelings about him since then.

''When it happened, I felt everything at the same time - numb, angry, nothing. It goes in waves. One day you are feeling really sorry because you wish you'd made that phone call, but you always think you've got more time. Other times, you'd be sitting there laughing about some of the dreadful things my dad did, like chasing driving instructors down the street. My dad could fill the house with terror in one roar.''

George is now happily drugs-free and hardly drinks. So have his demons been laid to rest? ''No, I don't think the demons ever go. Romantics never recover. I definitely have very self-destructive qualities but I try to keep them in check.''

He is still looking for a stable relationship. ''I'm an optimist where romance is concerned. As I get older one of the things I've accepted is that you have to take risks and you have to risk being disappointed. But you shouldn't give up.''

He realises that many people think he's retired or is some desperate figure trying to claw his way back to the top of the charts, but says it doesn't bother him now.

He has long since emptied the walls of his Hampstead home of all the gold discs he acquired during the band's heyday, storing them or giving them away, and now lives in relative harmony with a female friend in New York. There were too many obstacles for him to stay in London, and Radio 1 doesn't play his records, he says.

''It was getting harder for me to move beyond people's limited perceptions of what I was capable of as a creative person. I was bored of it.''

He has continued to record on his own independent label, but doesn't yearn for the dizzy heights he reached with Culture Club. ''I never thought I'd become the artist that I did become. It wasn't my plan. I never for a second imagined that little girls would have pictures of me on their wall."