Beckenham's DJ Talent releases World Cup anthem and Vibe goes inside his mind

The Beckenham reality TV contestant recorded the tune ahead of the previous tournament in South Africa but hopes this time around that it becomes the nation’s anthem.

He said: “I think people will get behind it.

“I love the World Cup, it’s great. I want to get behind the team 100 per cent this year.

“I am just waiting for the squad to be announced so I can send the players the track.

“We have got a good side. It is going to be hard because there are a lot of good teams but if we get to the quarter finals or the semi finals, that’ll be nice.”

Reporter Kathryn Bromwich went to DJ Talent’s house to find out what makes the man behind the music tick...

DJ Talent: Waiting for the comeback

Anthony Ghosh got to the Britain’s Got Talent semi-finals in 2009. A bingo advert and a Susan Boyle remix later, he’s plotting his return to fame

Before he could implant 28 18-carat gold teeth into DJ Talent’s mouth, the dentist had to file down his real teeth into small spikes. Painful? Yes, “much worse than a tattoo,” but it was a small price to pay (that, and £7,000).

As an investment, it’s brought in dividends, from a trip to African goldmines for the BBC to a Japanese film crew flying over to immortalise his gilded smile.

Gold-toothed and muscle-bound, Anthony “DJ Talent” Ghosh appeared on the Jeremy Kyle Show in 2005 (“the start of my television career”), when his mother Pat brought him on the show to censure his treatment of women (“like pieces of meat”) and his love of swingers’ parties (“disgusting”).

Today he’s unrecognisable from the cocksure would-be porn star who strutted onto the show: eager as a Labrador puppy, he is unguarded in his answers and continually turns to his mum for reassurance (“Isn’t that right, mum?”).

Pat, who sits on the end of the sofa watching Corrie on the 50-inch TV in the living room, is nothing like the harridan she played on the talk show.

She’s proud and protective of her son, although “he can be a handful” and the gold teeth are, “Nuts. Nuts!” Ghosh is concerned that the show “was edited to make me look bad”; on the other hand, it put him in the public eye.

In the 2009 edition of Britain’s Got Talent, Ghosh rocketed to fame with a catchy, if simple, tune: “I say Britain / You say talent / Britain’s Got Talent / It’s the DJ Talent.” Simon Cowell called it “a musical nightmare”, but Piers Morgan saw the potential. Piers promised a record deal that never materialised, but Ghosh thinks that being on BGT is “better than having a number one single, because you’re always on repeat.”

Since then, there have been appearances on Celebrity Juice, a bingo advert (“I say BOGOF, you say bingo”), and cameos in The Bill and Holby City.

Fame has brought with it perks (free entry to nightclubs, free Domino’s pizza, invites to film premieres), but also stalkers and death threats. A group of soldiers who felt he was “a disgrace for British television” threatened to kill him on his birthday (“That was horrific, wasn’t it mum?”).

Nowadays he finds it difficult to leave the house. “I used to enjoy the attention, but now I don’t like going out to busy places. I can’t even eat at my own Nando’s anymore.”

Before his rise to fame he suffered a nervous breakdown at 21, when he was diagnosed as bipolar. “I was so burnt out and exhausted, I had to take some time out of DJing.

It took me five years to rebuild my life after that.” His weight shot up to 21 stone, of which he lost seven (by eating rice cakes and apples). Fame’s ups and downs are mirrored in his erratic mood.

He veers from discussing depression to excitedly recounting his career highs, from the time he played Wembley in front of 12,000 people with Susan Boyle (a good friend and “a proper businesswoman”) to the time he was on a chat show with Kanye West.

On top of his fixation with fame, patriotism looms large. His T-shirt reads “I’m singing for England”, and he is full of respect for the English language (“It’s spoken all over the world”), the royal family, David Cameron and Boris Johnson (“They’re young and cool and they encourage business”), the legal profession, Eton, Oxford.

At the same time, he is passionate about the NHS, welfare, disability benefits (“if they really do have a disability”) and Nelson Mandela.

Indian civil engineer Sujit Ghosh, DJ Talent’s father, is not in, but his presence is felt: books about steel design and bridge engineering spill out from overloaded shelves. Ghosh Senior’s success has been an inspiration for Anthony, but it caused resentment in some of his teachers at school (“they were earning half of what my dad was, so they picked on me and told me I’d be working at Sainsbury’s”).

Now 35, Ghosh divides his time between Eastbourne and his parents’ flat in a high-rise in Penge, south London.

A picture of Ghosh (gold suit, gold teeth, big smile) with his arm around Simon Cowell (orange skin, white teeth, pristine T-shirt) presides over the living room.

On a dusty ladder near the bathroom there’s a pair of gold, custom-made Reeboks with a pink sole. An indefatigable self-promoter, he’s prepared some autographed cards and burnt a CD of his new material as a gift.

Wearing a Stussy baseball cap, reading glasses and striped pyjama bottoms, the only gold that’s visible on Ghosh today is in his mouth; his usual chains and bracelets (“when people see me wearing all this gold they think I’m rich”) are currently in a box while they’re being insured.

Seven tattoos adorn his skin: on his right forearm “DJ” is inked in flowery characters; on the left the words “Only God Can Judge Me”; on his shoulder, his name is written in Chinese characters.

Although he has cooled down the “bad boy” antics paraded on the Jeremy Kyle Show, three steady girlfriends later he hasn’t settled down. “Sometimes, your career takes over your personal life, and you can drift away from family and friends.”

He’s talking about Nelson Mandela, but draws parallels to his own situation.

Sampling iconic figures into his songs is his latest project, from Obama to Mandela, from Susan Boyle to Star Trek. Ambition isn’t an issue. Having sampled Paul McCartney’s ‘Live and Let Die’, Ghosh’s next career goal is a James Bond theme song, or maybe even a collaboration with Sir Paul (“I played on the same stage as the Beatles played, and Paul McCartney and I have both performed in front of Simon Cowell, in the same year”).

In a parallel universe he might have been a life coach: he’s full of advice and dispenses it liberally.

“You should always get travel insurance, because if you get ill abroad you’re all on your own.”

“Journalism’s a dangerous profession, look at Rebekah Brooks now, she might go to jail.” “Don’t take your wisdom teeth out unless you have to, because otherwise it will just hurt for two weeks.”

Teeth are a sore subject: for the past three months, Ghosh has had problems with wisdom teeth (“but the gold teeth were ok”).

He has also had a chest infection and a possible cancer scare.

“It’s just been ongoing. Sometimes I get depressed and I think I’m going to end up dead. You can have all the money in the world, but if you’ve got leukaemia or a brain tumour and it’s untreatable, money can’t save that.”

And then he cheers up again. “But the Nelson Mandela song is a very uptempo, nice track. I’m putting this out in Ibiza this year. It’s going to be a big track.”