Boy George (The Olympia Theatre, Dublin)

Dress and appearance have always been important to Boy George (remember the outrageous sexual ambiguity of the layered petticoats and hybrid dreadlocks of his Culture Club days?). Tonight, sporting a bowler hat with devil’s horns, shirt and red tie, red tartan bondage trousers, black and white checked jacket and very high golden wedge shoes he more resembled an eclectic postmodern pastiche of a manipulative rock and roll Mephistopheles than the pawn-like malleable pop Faust he had more or less willingly played out previously, suggesting perhaps that he’s through making deals at his own expense.

As if to reiterate this severance from his earlier, ‘media-friendly’ incarnation most of the set is taken up with songs from his latest persona. However, it was Oscar Wilde, a man with whom George has a lot in common methinks, who said “No man is rich enough to buy back his past.” And so, inevitably, some concessions have to be made to satiate the audience’s lust for his back catalogue.

Courageous enough to wear masks that reveal rather than hide, the Boy prodigal is also, as you might expect, too brave to merely dish out a medley of greatest hits. Instead, we are treated to a heavier dub reggae version of ‘Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?’, the chorus of which George utilises to playfully interrogate the audience. The joyous ebullience of the original ‘Karma Chameleon’ is replaced, meanwhile, by a plaintively reflective and unironic interpretation in the live arena.

Although always sardonically camp George nevertheless prefaces ‘Can You Feel My Pain’ with some very direct comments on suffering: “Black or white, gay or straight, Protestant or Catholic suffering is still the same” which appropriately drew a cheer from the packed auditorium. ‘If I Could Fly’, a ballad of fierce backbone, yet, paradoxically, naked gentleness, slotted in nicely by way of contrast with, what can only be described as the more mature tone of the rhythm and blues soul of the new material, which was, perhaps, best represented by the encoring ‘Generations Of Love’ and ‘After The Love Has Gone’.

At one point a few years ago it did seem that, having sold himself lock, stock and bangle for the alluring flames of fame, Boy George had been critically singed at the peak of his powers. Happily, during most of this post-midnight celebration, the one time King-and-Queen of pop music showed that he’s still a royal figure, championing a difference all of his own.

• Patrick Brennan.