Antony's angelic voice reaches theatrical heights

Antony Hegarty, a 34-year-old man with a celestial singing voice and blurry gender identity, is still recovering from the shock of winning Britain's prestigious Mercury Music Prize earlier this month. His New York-based band, Antony and the Johnsons, beat out such notable nominees as Coldplay, Kaiser Chiefs, M.I.A., and Bloc Party on the strength of their sophomore album, ''I Am a Bird Now," a rapturous, intimate mash of blues, soul, and balladry that features cameos from Lou Reed and Rufus Wainwright. Antony, whose group stops at the Paradise tonight, recently chatted on the phone about campy college musicals, the strange trip from drag clubs to London's Grosvenor House, and being a wart on Nina Simone's toe.

Q. How about that Mercury Prize?

A. It was a bit shocking. I thought there must be some sort of mistake. You do your own thing and you make your work in your insular world and especially for someone like me -- who's in quite a marginal world, whether that be self-imposed or otherwise -- I wasn't expecting to be singled out.

Q. Did you prepare an acceptance speech anyway? Tell the truth.

A. I didn't have a speech prepared.

Q. This is a prize awarded to British artists. Do you consider yourself a Brit?

A. I lived there for the first 10 years of my life, and I do feel a kinship. I was raised by an English family, and even when you leave the country your home base is England.

Q. Record sales skyrocketed in the United Kingdom after the award was announced. Did you ever imagine that ''I Am a Bird" would be a big seller?

A. This is a magical window in the culture, where songs like mine have been embraced to some extent.

Q. How has your life changed?

A. It's like I've been standing on the beach looking out into the ocean thinking there's a forest of cherry trees out there. This year all these cherry blossoms washed up onto my beach. The beach is covered. In so many ways this year all of my dreams came true. I'm overwhelmed.

Q. You explore some controversial issues on the album: gender identity and sexual ambiguity. Are you still grappling with those questions in your own life?

A. I always find it funny when people say sexual ambiguity. I find it curious when people focus on one thing. This album is about transformation in a lot of ways. Obviously between male and female, also young and old, life and death. The record is quite existential in a way.

Q. Help me understand those larger ideas about transformation.

A. I've been developing this idea lately that everyone contains a family inside them: a boy and a girl, a man and a woman. The record in a way is a dialogue among them, these different aspects of the psyche. It's a little mythological. I'm really into the Jungian idea of the divine child. It's the spiritual centerpiece of the human psyche, and it's very connected to creativity, which in my life is an important means of transformation.

Q. You moved from Santa Cruz [Calif.] to New York City in 1990. I bet that transformed you.

A. It sure did change my life. I wanted to immerse myself in the late-night world and find hybrid people and perform in those environments. I really wanted to find a place where I felt comfortable.

Q. Lou Reed is a champion and collaborator of yours. What's the common ground?

A. Lou is a man of great passion. We share a great love for soulful singing. Really, he picked me up off the sidewalk because he thought I had something in that department. He's the most important mentor I have, in terms of guidance and advice.

Q. Your singing is often compared to Nina Simone's. As someone who's worked to develop a unique artistic voice, how do you feel about comparisons?

A. I didn't develop my voice in [a] vacuum; I'm an amalgamation. The only thing I can bring to the table is my story. It's not style but content that differentiates me. I appreciate the compliment, but I'm really like a wart on her toe. It's preposterous to try to compare to someone as profoundly important as Nina Simone.

Q. I read that as a boy growing up in San Jose, California, you saw a photo of Boy George on the cover of the Culture Club album ''Kissing to Be Clever" and that was a turning point for you.

A. It was the first time I realized I wasn't completely alone in the world. It was, 'Oh, so that's what we grow up to be.' He's so vulnerable and feminine and beautiful, everything I would want to be. Even from an 11-year-old perspective, I knew that was my direction. It was the first time I saw it mirrored back at me.

Q. You went to Catholic school. Are you a religious person?

A. No. I wouldn't call myself a Catholic, or a religious person. I definitely have my own set of stuff going on, but it's just intuitive.

Q. When did you realize you had this singing voice?

A. Probably when I was 18 or 19. I was at college at UCSC [in Santa Cruz] and started writing these John Waters-inspired musicals that were a mix of ridiculous comedy and high-octane tragedy. There was always a song as a centerpiece, and one night I was singing the Beatles' ballad ''Yesterday" as a nun singing to Jesus on the cross. It was a heartbroken rendition inspired by Ray Charles. Afterward people came up to me and they were crying. I think that's when I realized that singing is a potent way for me to communicate.

Q. What's next?

A. I want to do a choral record. I also want to do a rhythm-oriented record. Also, I want to say I'm sorry I carried on about the divine child.

Joan Anderman can be reached at anderman@globe.com.