Billy Idol is on the phone from his Los Angeles home, mouthing the drum intro to Sweet's Ballroom Blitz.

Not something you hear every day. But punk's prettiest star is defending his first band, Generation X's choice of Sweet producer Phil Wainman to supervise their first singles even as his friends in punk's notorious Bromley Contingent spat venom at all things commercial.

In so doing, the soon to be 50-year-old born William Broad illustrates another point - why he, a leftover from a brief social and musical movement that peaked nearly 30 years ago, is able to headline a tour of large halls years later.

Idol has never denied his roots, nor has he feigned any contempt for mainstream success. Not for nothing did he adopt the surname Idol while all around him were becoming Rottens, Scabies and Viciouses.

"There were certain things we were saying no to -- like the prog-rock that had taken over everything -- but there was certain music that we loved and there were certain people like Marc Bolan, David Bowie, The Velvet Underground and Iggy that we believed were gods," Idol says.

"We were all following in their path. I believe I'm still following in their path today."

It's been a quarter of a century since that path took Idol -- who arrived in America as both a menacing and comical spiky-haired character, all Cockney accent and cocksure attitude -- on a bumpy ride through the mainstream. Dancing With Myself, Rebel Yell, White Wedding and his naggingly perfect cover of Tommy James' Mony Mony remain frat house anthems.

But an ill-advised, synth-laden album effectively ended his career. Drugs and a sensational auto accident, meanwhile, nearly ended his life.

Last year Idol returned in style, hedging his bets by reuniting with guitarist Steve Stevens, the rocker with the riffs who stood by Idol's side during those glory days. A new album, Devil's Playground, finds Idol in fine form -- spiky hair, accent and attitude intact.

"I don't play 100% punk rock music," Idol says, "but I still believe that I use punk rock attitude. Even if it's a song like Eyes Without a Face, there's something in the lyric, something in the song.

"I still put that into Devil's Playground. I believe there's a punk rock attitude to it. I don't think if you put it on you'd necessarily go, 'That's punk rock,' but I've never lost the punk rock attitude."

Nor, it seems, has he lost his love of the spotlight. And while he may joke "the Bromley Contingent doesn't live in Bromley anymore," he defends himself against charges Billy Idol sold out punk.

"I think people can see that if anything I kept the alternative thing in MTV," Idol counters. "If they hadn't had me it would have been just Madonna and big-hair bands. It was a great combination of punk and rock, and I've gone on to do that today."

And so Idol continues to straddle that fine line. He's not concerned about his place in 'the scene,' he insists. But then, he's not in Bromley any more.

"It was all borne of necessity really," he reflects. "It was all an attack on society. We were making our presence known because they weren't giving us a future. You couldn't get work, there were no jobs.

"That didn't happen in America 'til the '90s and you had a similar kind of thing -- you had grunge music happening, where people were pissed off and it went into music.

"That's all you could do, was turn it into music, or you'd have to start fighting with weapons. That's a bit radical. It made more sense to throw musical bombs."

It still does, he concludes.

"I've still got that energy," Idol sneers. "I'm still that pissed off. And I still can't get a job."

Right then. Are you ready, Billy? Let's go!