'The ridicule cut me to the core'

The 47-year-old father-of-five is in the UK to promote his autobiography, Life Is Just What You Make It, and to embark on a sell-out tour.

You'd think that such a seasoned performer would make light work of the first in a succession of interviews. Yet the devout Mormon seems apprehensive, and shortly after we sit down he reveals that had we met a few years ago he would have probably been having a panic attack.

It's likely to be a legacy of his rollercoaster career, one which saw massive adulation in the 1970s and a monumental downfall as the punk era took off and Donny Osmond became a by-word for naff.

By the early 1980s record companies were telling him his face didn't fit any more. His friend Michael Jackson summed it up: ''Your name is poison.''

''I was really confused at how fast the public could switch,'' he says. ''When I was 26 the industry wouldn't allow me back in. I don't know how I coped with it. The ridicule cut me to the core.''

To make matters worse, in the early 1980s the Osmond financial empire collapsed and the family lost $60m, which had been tied up in a variety of business ventures.

''Bad advisors,'' Donny explains with a shrug. ''The money was managed by other people. We're entertainers, not financial advisers.''

The family refused to declare bankruptcy and started again, which in Donny's case meant taking on more gigs in less prestigious venues, such as high schools.

'It was really hard. You have to swallow your pride because you know where you've been and where you are now, but the audience also knows where you've been and where you are now.''

It took nearly a decade of rejection for him to make it to number two in the US charts with Soldier Of Love in 1989, but the real comeback came when he landed the role of Joseph in the US touring version of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in 1992, which he played for six years.

But two years into the run he started having panic attacks before he went on stage. ''By the time Joseph came to me I was more emotionally battered and scarred than I realised. The problem was that I was getting sell-out shows and I knew what it felt like to lose it and I didn't want to lose it again.

''So I had to give a perfect performance every single show and if I made a mistake I'd beat myself up about it. I felt like I was losing my mind.''

On the opening night in Chicago he stopped singing during one of the main numbers, and unable to control his voice he just mouthed the words. On another occasion he thought he was going to black out on stage, couldn't sing and had trouble staying conscious.

The attacks became worse until one night he was engulfed in such a huge panic he couldn't go on stage and started weeping in his dressing room. In the end he sought help from a psychotherapist who said he had a social anxiety disorder.

''With social anxiety disorder, you feel like you're being judged by people around you, that they are talking about you. In my case, they were.

''Ever since I was a kid, I'd go up on stage and do the best I could and critics would rip me apart. Throughout those years those scars built up and up.''

Now, when he starts to get a panic attack he realises what's happening, embraces it (as he explains it) and it goes away.

''Ten years ago, sitting here with you I would have been having a panic attack because in my mind you're judging me. I have to put across the best possible persona I can so I get a good review. But you are going to think and write whatever you want. I just have to be myself.''

Today, life is better, although he looks back on those early successes with his brothers - and later his solo career - with affection. And the family is still very close.

Unlike David Cassidy, who hated the immense loss of freedom that went with such colossal fame and ended up retreating into anonymity at the height of his success, Donny seemed to cope better.

''The difference between the two of us was that I was able to keep things in perspective. It was a great time in my life. Why run away from it?

''I did for a period of time because I tried to become the adult and shoved it down people's throats, saying, 'Please! I'm not the puppy lover any more'.

''But guess what? I am the puppy lover and I like it. I would much rather have that healthy outlook than live with something that is a pain in my side for the rest of my life.

''To be known as a teenybopper for the rest of your life is a little difficult, but thank goodness I've been able to transcend it.''

His early whirlwind fame left him crippled emotionally as he was unable to form relationships with girls or anyone else, apart from those in his family circle and working environment.

''While onstage, I did a pretty good impression of a guy who'd loved and lost, yet in real life I was a bit of a dating dweeb.''

Now, he says he's grateful that his family protected him from all those female fans.

''Really, that was difficult. Thank goodness my family was around. I hated it at the time - I wanted to indulge, but I was never left alone. I never had my own room, as much as I wanted it"

Then he met Debbie Glenn in 1975 on a double date - she was dating his brother Jay and Donny found himself talking to her more than his own date.

Donny was a virgin when he married Debbie in 1978, at the age of 20. Now, 27 years later, they have five sons aged between 26 and seven, and live comfortably in Utah.

''People say, how do you keep a marriage together that long? And I say, 'Well, whenever we have an argument she's always right'.''

Age doesn't worry him although he has, he admits, tried Botox once to smooth the lines on his forehead, but hated it. Touching the relatively small crow's feet around his eyes, he says he may have those done at some point.

''I'm actually looking forward to growing old because for so many years I was considered a little kid.

''I'm going to grow old gracefully. The curtain will come down, but I've got my family and I'd rather have my anchor there.''

* Life Is Just What You Make It: The Autobiography, by Donny Osmond with Patricia Romanowski (Orion £17.99)

l Donny Osmond plays Newcastle Arena on September 30.