Hours before playing a small concert venue in midtown Manhattan to commemorate the release of their first new album in 17 years, No Exit (which enters the Billboard album chart at No. 18 next week), the musicians — singer Deborah Harry, 53; guitarist Chris Stein, 49; drummer Clem Burke, 43; and keyboardist Jimmy Destri, 44 — gather in the dressing room to explain their strategy.

Burke suggests that the route taken by Fleetwood Mac, another beloved pop group of yore that re-formed recently, helped provide a sort of negative blueprint. "They didn't really turn out any new material," Burke says of Mac's 1997 live reunion album, the mostly oldies The Dance. "That's unfair to the fans."

Adds Stein, Blondie's most outspoken and least diplomatic member, "Fleetwood Mac was never as smart as us — it's that simple. If you think about it, the only band as eclectic as us and (that incorporated) as many styles is probably the Beatles."

While startlingly immodest, even by rock-star standards, Stein's Fab Four comparison isn't entirely inappropriate. After bursting out of New York in the late '70s, Blondie dominated Top 40 radio for half a decade, pumping out hits that combined punk energy and pop savvy with a daring, canny eclecticism — from the group's disco-informed breakthrough Heart of Glass (1978) to its groundbreaking forays into reggae (1980's The Tide Is High) and hip-hop (1981's Rapture). Blondie was also among a handful of pre-MTV bands to affect popular culture beyond music, seducing Middle America with its decidedly hip, urban look — centered on Harry's charismatic, at times campy blonde-bombshell persona — and sensibilities.

What happened next, according to Stein, was "really simple — there were ego clashes, there was bad business advice, and there was just fatigue and stress." Specifically, the emphasis placed on Harry's image became a sore point for both the singer and her colleagues; the group fell out with its management and had financial disputes with its old record company, Chrysalis; and during Blondie's final tour in 1982, Stein developed a rare, debilitating skin disease called pemphigus, which endured for two years. (Harry, who was Stein's lover throughout Blondie's original tenure — they remain good friends — helped nurse him back to health).

When Stein first thought of trying to re-form Blondie about three years ago, Harry was ambivalent. Though the solo albums she released after Blondie disbanded (several of which Stein produced) were hardly commercial triumphs, they garnered some good notices. So did Harry's occasional acting work — she stars in Six Ways to Sunday, opening in New York March 5 and nationally in April — and her elegant, nuanced singing with the Jazz Passengers.

"What's intimidating (in rock) is the lack of assurance on the technical end ," says Harry, who still looks glamorous, even in pre-show hair curlers. "Acoustics can be a nightmare."

Stein encountered less reluctance from Destri, who had been working as a producer, and Burke, a busy session/replacement drummer. Bassist Gary Valentine, who played with Blondie back in the mid-'70s, also was involved in some early rehearsals and performances, but says he was "mysteriously" cut off "for reasons unknown to me." Burke contends that Valentine, now a free-lance writer based in London, is "not a full-time musician," and was therefore replaced by two studio pros, guitarist Paul Carbonara and bassist Leigh Foxx. (Two other former Blondie members, bassist Nigel Harrison and guitarist Frank Infante, were never approached about the reunion, and currently have a lawsuit pending against the band.)

In the end, says Stein, Blondie's reunion album turned out to be "probably the most serious" effort of the band's career, with songs that allude to everything from old relationships to Stein's illness. And while the scrupulously frank guitarist insists that he isn't out to compete with younger artists — "I don't pay any attention to contemporary music," Stein sniffs — No Exit pays more attention to the current state of pop than many reunion projects. There's even a cameo by rapper Coolio, who performed with Blondie recently on the American Music Awards.

Still, as Spin editor-in-chief Alan Light points out, those who attend Blondie's tour this spring will no doubt expect to hear those platinum oldies.

"Certainly, I think it's noble of (Blondie) to try to do something more than just a nostalgia tour," says Light. "But realistically, when you've racked up a bunch of hits, that's what fans will want to hear."

Indeed, at the special tour-preview concert given by the band hours after the interview, the audience — mostly radio-contest winners — came prepared to party like it was 1979, and did not leave disappointed. While Blondie performed a number of songs from the new album — among them the driving single Maria (already a No. 1 hit in the U.K.) and the lithe, deftly syncopated Screaming Skin — the biggest crowd-pleasers were the group's smash hits from the '70s and '80s, including an exuberant Call Me and a funky, shimmering Rapture.

Harry proved a predictably stylish, charismatic front woman, flaunting her still-fabulous curves in a fitted black-and-red dress eccentrically accessorized with beige pumps. Her voice lush and urgent and her gaze implacable, the singer was the missing link between Marilyn Monroe and Madonna, and it was impossible not to be touched by her presence.

But however timeless her allure, Harry is surely courting skepticism and catty remarks by presenting herself as a fiftysomething rock babe. Stein says that even years ago, when he was working with the singer on solo projects, "Our (former) manager would always carry on about Debbie's age. I would just say, 'Yeah, well, what about Tina Turner?'"

Harry herself shrugs off the issue. "Rock 'n' roll has come of age," she reasons. "In jazz, you've always had young musicians and old musicians. Now you see the same thing in rock . . . I just hope that people enjoy our (new album) and enjoy the shows — simple as that."

Or as Destri puts it, "I'd like to have something to attach to our legacy. Sometimes with a comeback, you thin out your legacy. We'd like to make it thicker."

-- Elysa Gardner - 3/04/99