Billy Idol thinks today's a nice day to start again 01:00 AM EDT on Tuesday, May 17, 2005 BY NICK MARINO The Atlanta Journal-Constitution AUSTIN, Texas -- In the music business, comebacks come in all shapes and sizes.

There's the Johnny Cash model, wherein an established superstar goes in a startling new direction at the end of his career. There's the Pixies model, wherein a once-obscure act storms back to capture the glory that was so elusive the first time around.

And then there is the Billy Idol model (known as the Duran Duran model last year), wherein a hugely popular '80s act emerges from the pop culture graveyard to introduce a new album. The "Hungry Like the Wolf" guys sold almost a quarter-million copies of their 2004 comeback record, Astronaut. That's more copies than Idol's last original record has sold, and it's been out since 1993.

We've seen little of Mr. Rebel Yell since then, unless we count his cameo in The Wedding Singer, but Idol is now back on the scene, looking for rock 'n' roll redemption.

After two near-death experiences, a record-label change and a long stretch of cultural irrelevance, he, like so many rockers before him, wants another shot. Even if that means playing clubs instead of arenas (he's at Lupo's in Providence today), selling thousands of records instead of millions, moving from the mainstream of pop culture to the fringes.

According to Nielsen SoundScan, Idol's new record, Devil's Playground, has sold 27,000 copies since its release in March. It has a long way to go if it's going to eclipse Rebel Yell, which has sold some 2 million copies since 1983.

Still, 2005 -- a time when kitschy '80s nostalgia is running high -- seems as opportune a time as any for an Idol resurgence.

"It's not quite the same as starting again. We got a bit of a leg up because we've already got a Greatest Hits. I've already got a good background of songs. But yeah, we're doing basically the same things that every other band does. And that's the magic," Idol says. "Thank God we're doing that."

The implication is that if he weren't doing that, he'd be doing nothing. After all, pop acts are notoriously disposable, under even the best of circumstances. And Idol has had to face not only changing tastes in popular music, but two brushes with death brought on by his, shall we say, vigorous lifestyle.

Idol had a serious motorcycle wreck in 1990. He released his '93 record, Cyberpunk, at a time when the music world was ushering out his generation in favor of younger grunge bands and hip-hop acts. In 1994, Idol nearly died of a drug overdose.

He pulled himself together, he says, for the sake of his two kids, who are now teenagers, "because who's gonna bring their kids around to play at Billy Idol's house? 'He's just on a crack binge!' "

Idol says he started smoking hash at age 12, and dropped acid when he was 13.

"I did [drugs] for a long time," he says, "and I'm bound to do it again sometime. I'm sure I will. I'm a bit of a binge artist. I'm not totally clean or nothing like that, you know. There's no way I'm ever gonna do that. But at the same time, I'm glad I've got hold of it."

CONSIDERING what he's put his body through, Idol is still remarkably chiseled. He and Iggy Pop seem to share a rare strand of DNA that transforms toxins into muscle. At age 49, Idol has solid abs and python biceps, and he has no problem whipping off his shirt on stage.

If the years of hard living are visible anywhere, it's in his face. Idol's street-urchin mug is leathery now, carved by deep creases. His hair is platinum, but his roots are showing.

His natural speaking voice is smoke-scarred, but you never get his natural speaking voice for long because he's forever bursting into a shout or harrumphing into an infectious laugh. Sometimes, his lip even curls into that famous punk-Elvis sneer.

"It's just natural," he says. "You hold your fist up, and the next minute your lip's curling. That's what I do anyway -- 'Yeaaaaah.' You can just do a lot with that in a camera."

Billy Idol was born William Broad in 1955 in Middlesex, England, a music fan from an early age and an early adopter of punk.

"I used to dream about being in a band," he says. "I used to watch Ready Steady Go and look at the Who and Jimi Hendrix and think, 'They're going all over the world. And I'm stuck here watching this black-and-white telly on a Friday afternoon. . . .'

"I wanted to do the same thing, really. I hoped somebody else somewhere was going mad for Billy Idol just like I was getting all sweaty for the Beatles."

EVENTUALLY, that happened.

In his prime, Idol's trick was straddling the line between punk and pop. Other new wave artists did the same, but Idol had a look and sound just commercial enough to push him further into the mainstream. With anthems like "White Wedding" and "Dancing With Myself," he came to personify the infectiously cheesy rock of the '80s. His run of hits ended in 1990 when he hit No. 2 with "Cradle of Love."

He's spent much of the time since toiling, as he puts it, "out of your view."

"I never stopped writing songs or listening to music or playing music," he says.

Idol says he has young fans who consider his Greatest Hits record his first album and Devil's Playground his second. And so his tour is an opportunity for older fans who never stopped caring to raise their lighters alongside younger fans who just joined the party.

Idol made an early sold-out tour stop here at the dripping-with-cred South by Southwest Festival, primarily known for breaking new artists. Although a few hipsters probably enjoyed the music ironically -- as much of '80s culture is celebrated these days -- the general audience's synchronized fist-pumping seemed awfully sincere.

Before the show, someone asked Idol's longtime guitarist Steve Stevens why Idol is still bothering to do this. At this point, why wouldn't he spend his days lying in a hammock, sipping lemonade and living off his back catalog, like a good rock 'n' roll dinosaur?

"Not sounding like a cliché, I think that's a punk rock thing," Stevens said. "Because they did rebel against that gluttonous, dinosaur aspect of music. And to sit on your laurels and, like you said, sit in the hammock -- it's not very punk rock."

For the concert, Idol wore a dark jacket, chunky jewelry and a shirt, which didn't last long. "We're gonna play some new songs," he said, "some old songs. I dunno, we're just gonna play some rock 'n' roll songs!!"

And so he did, mixing Devil's Playground material with "Rebel Yell" and "Eyes Without a Face" and "Dancing With Myself." The snarl, needless to say, was in full effect.

After a while, Idol got around to "White Wedding."

"It's a nice day for a white wedding," he sang, for what had to be the millionth time. "It's a nice day to start again."

Billy Idol, featuring Steve Stevens, plays Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel, 79 Washington St., Providence, tonight at 9. Tickets are $35. Call (401) 331-5876 or (401) 272-5876.