Michael Des Barres is smiling a lot these days; showing perfect Hollywood teeth through the sharp edges of a face carved hard by the ravages of past drug and alcohol excesses.

He's looking fit, too; tanned, slim and fairly radiating that special health of the good Californian beach life - a life of jogging, diet supplements and no drugs.

The smile is confident but weary. It's the smile of the son of an English Marquis father and jazz-singing mother, that of a man who after ten years of bit acting parts in television and bit singing parts in marginal bands (Silverhead, Chequered Past, Detective) can finally relish a leading role.

John and Andy Taylor were his saviours: "God bless 'em," he says, recalling the night that Chequered Past supported Duran Duran in San Diego and the two Power Station founders pondered a replacement for Robert Palmer.

"Power Station is such a departure for me because I'm used to playing before kids with Mohawks with fists in the air. Now I'm playing for 14-year-old girls!"

And, he might add, he's now sitting amidst the cushioned comfort of a luxury hotel suite sipping silver-service tea during the one afternoon hour allotted for an interview - the last hour before he blows out of Boston for tonight's show.

So, is Robert Palmer not on the road because of his commitment to do a solo album for Island?

"I believe that's it. I mean, it's all very in the dark and I really don't want to shed any light on it. I'm not carrying the spotlight for him."

Do you ever feel like you're being forced into Robert's shoes?

"Well, I got big feet!"

But the comparison is inevitable since Robert co-wrote six of the eight songs on the album.

"Yeah, it's great though because Robert's voice is so interesting. He sings in a much lower key than I do and it's really opened up a lower register in my voice. Hey, I'm eternally grateful to him."

So you've had to change your style somewhat?

"I think it would be a rip-off if I didn't approximate him on the songs that we do from the Power Station album."

Time for a course correction. While I'm busy contemplating my cuppa, he's steering the conversation into much smoother waters - vivid tales of movie offers (the lead in "Flashdance II"), of writing new songs (Berlin's new single "A Woman's Weapon"), and of plans to record a live version of the Power Station tour.

Has this new success happened because of Power Station?

"Unquestionably, absolutely," he retorts, as the smile breaks out again.

This is your big break?

"Yeah." A confident nod joins the smile.

It must seem a lifetime away from 1975 - when you boasted that you could handle the decadence of the States.

"In those days, ummm..." the look is of painful memories flooding back, "decadence was everything to me. I was always much more concerned with the style of something than the substance... For me, falling in love with the whole decadent myth was very destructive... I succumbed to all that. But what happened to me, what turned my life around was like four years ago I stopped drinking and I stopped using cocaine."

Was it hard?

"Yes" he says softly, pulling a long slow drag on the day's first cigarette. "And it took me months of not using and drinking to realise that I was f***ed up... And if my wife hadn't been there, I'd just be some hideous footnote now."

Des Barres has the look that says, OK, enough of that. Have the others in Power Station approached you to record in the studio?

"Well, let's just say that we will work together again."

Hmmm, the ol' brick wall. Well, OK. Are you writing any songs with Power Station in mind?

"Yes, we've written several. God, we've written six, Andy and I."

How have the critics reacted to you?

"They've been 80% positive, really, and yet as David Lee Roth said, the only reason that critics like Elvis Costello is because they all look like him."

OK Michael, you win. Has this tour been more exhausting than you thought it would be?

"No, you know why? I'm used to driving eight hours in a van to a gig, putting my mascara on in the kitchen with cockroaches crawling all over my eye-shadow and going out there and playing to hundreds of hardcore rock 'n roll fans.
This, I get up, I put on an outfit, I get in the limo, I go to our private plane, I then go to another limo which is waiting on the tarmac...no, it's not exhausting!"

The conversation gets turned back to the Robert Palmer-less Power Station; of the initial shock of seeing Palmer and the Taylors on the same stage together, then getting used to Des Barres replacing Palmer.

"I've had to meet that," admits Des Barres. "I have to prove myself every night out there, especially to the critics. But the critics don't concern me because I know where they're coming from."

Well, was it hard fitting in with Power Station's style?

"I had to learn 16 songs in two weeks and then a couple of weeks after that I was playing to a third of the world at Live Aid.
But more important I had to get to know the guys."

Clearly, Michael Des Barres' past has laid the groundwork for his current moment in the spotlight, and ultimately his place in rock history will probably be determined more by who he's singing with rather than by his own talent - however hard working and sincere that may be.

Still, watching the show it seems that he's an actor first, a performer second and a singer third.

"Yeah, well Dylan is a philosopher first, a poet second and a singer third. Mick Jagger is an archetypal rock-god first, a jet-setter second and a singer third.
Johnny Rotten is...alive, probably using a lot of hair mousse and is a singer second. Robert Palmer is a singer first, and a fashion model second..."

How about Andy Taylor?

"Ooooh, yeah...well, Andy is a Svengali first, with a little touch of Phil Spector, second he's a street rat and third..."

Des Barres pauses, lowers his voice and assumes a look of great respect, "He's my friend."