"I think showbusiness is looked upon as a dirty word, and I don't think it is. Malcolm's a very Tin Pan Alley character – he reminds me of Billy Fury's manager, Larry Parnes. I really admire him: the guy's alive. I paid Malcolm a grand to work for me for four weeks. He sorted me out: he went through my first album word-by-word, note-by-note, and just said what was what. I think he realized early on there was no way I was going to sing about cassettes or sing his lyrics, which is what all the Bow Wow Wow words are. I did try, but I couldn't work under those conditions. But he was very wise – Malcolm's a very wise person – and he helped me a lot...Though it was very painful to lose friends like that.

"Malcolm didn't seduce Dave, Lee, and Matthew away to Bow Wow Wow – they're grown-up boys. There was never a situation where I was kicked out of the Ants, because you can't be kicked out of something that's yours. Malcolm just wanted a band, and asked them. I can't blame them – we'd been working for three years with no record company backing, and no hit records. It was really tough. It was hard. I don't think there's any animosity between the others and myself. I wish them well. I still think Malcolm McLaren's the best-dressed man in Britain. I think as a manager he's on par with someone like Diaghilev or Colonel Tom Parker. He's an artist, really: that's the problem – he should be a singer."

ADAM ANT has had a busy week. He and the other four Ants have recorded a Jim'll Fix It TV show, as well as a Top Of The Pops for the re-released 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier'. He's also sued Decca Records, who'd been readying an LP follow-up to the hit single they picked up with the twee, 1978-recorded 'Young Parisians' as part of the remarkable T. Rex-like public lust for Antmaterial: "They were going to put out some demo tapes I did over two years ago. I had to get a High Court injunction."

Earlier today, Adam had gone along to the St Martins Art College MA finals to see the degree show of Eve Godard, the group's clothes designer. It's his day off, but he's also doing a half dozen interviews, which is why early in the evening I'm facing the dramatically staring eyes of the sharp, bright Adam across a crowded desk in a hutch-like office at CBS Records in Soho Square.

This is the last of these six personal performances for the press, so there is little lack of sureness in the deliberate delivery of Adam's quotes. He speaks so rapidly in his faint Harrow accent that he doesn't finish a good quarter of his righteously certain sentences so much does he desire to dash on to his next set of words.

Rather than a swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks figure, the ruddy cheeked Adam in his P.J. Proby-like buckled shoes, pinstriped black frockcoat and casually bow-bedecked curls looks more like the boyish hero of a BBC-TV Sunday afternoon Robert Louis Stephenson serial. In the wings waits his principal girl, ready to whisk him off to his smuggler's cove in Notting Hill Gate. One hopes he won't have too much trouble getting cabs to stop.

Not that this cleverly conceived fantasy garb is serving Adam at all badly, of course, having played – along with its Cherokee chic alter ego – a major part in the transmogrification of Adam Ant from loser punk starlet to youth culture hero with a social movement all of his very own.

This recent mega-stellar status isn't really by any means merely the result of the infectiously addictive Kings Of The Wild Frontier album and single, and the 'Dog Eat Dog' and 'Antmusic' hit 45s: for at least the last two years of the 70s Adam And The Ants had led the league as the group name most favoured by mutant punks for spraying on the backs of their Lewis Leather jackets – the absurdly titled Dirk Wears White Sox album had been a considerable seller ever since it was first put out on the independent Do-It label on January 1, 1980.

Even so, there had for long been a suspicion that Adam and his chaps were really rather silly – or, perhaps, a little sinister. Certainly it had not been good for Adam's reputation to have been featured in Derek Jarman's precious Jubilee.

That apart, however, his punk credibility was pretty unblemished: formed at The Roxy, managed by Jordan, apparently stitched up by Malcolm McLaren...

So did Malcolm really do Adam a favour when he took drummer Dave Barbe, guitarist Matthew Ashman, and bassist Lee Gorman off to buccaneer with Bow Wow Wow? Why is it happening with this current line-up of guitarist Marco Pirroni, bassist Kevin Mooney, and the twin drum team of Terry Lee Miall and Merrick?

"I REALLY think," enthuses Adam, "it's just that our Sound and our Look came together at the right time. We'd been working for a long time, but with the 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier' single, Antmusic For Sexpeople – which had been an ideal – became a reality. A Sound was achieved with it that was our's and no-one else's – 'Dog Eat Dog' and 'Antmusic' confirmed it, as did the album itself.

"The big step forward was my writing with Marco, who I got together with straight after the others left at the beginning of last year. It was the major turning point. We both agreed on certain principles we wanted to apply to our work. We wanted to be a very classical writing team, with a very grand, filmic sound – the two drumkits help there, for example.

"I'd done a lot of research on tribal vocals, and to me Marco has for long been the best guitarist around – even when he was in that group The Models. It was A Sound we wanted, rather than just very good songs – there are plenty of those around. It's much better to have A Sound in the way either Abba or Talking Heads have.

"Also, we wanted A Look.

"We went out on two tours in six months – the first one we financed ourselves to attract record company support and got CBS at the last gig. We had faith in what we were doing, even though some may see it as a million-to-one chance.

"But I personally always maintain that the groundwork had been done through the years prior to that: it was that hardcore following of perhaps 50,000 people who immediately went out and bought the 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier' single and charted it, because suddenly Adam And The Ants records were in the chart return shops. Then we got three minutes of Top Of The Pops, and 250,000 more people immediately bought it.

"The music doesn't just sound different – it feels different. When we recorded Dirk Wears White Sox there was no spirit in the playing on it. The heart had gone out of the band, and it had become obsessive, fanatical.

"With Kings Of The Wild Frontier, though, we were really playing from the heart – it really was like a tribe in there with everybody singing and bashing it out. A very exciting record to make.

"I have a lot more fun now, and enjoy my work a lot more. It's not all just on my back."

AS ADAM says, the Look was as important as the music: "The first time we did Top Of The Pops we were a foretaste of things to come – we did it before Spandau Ballet, or The Stray Cats, or any of the Look bands.

"It's nonsense for us to be called New Romantics, though – I've never been to the Blitz in my life. The way all these groups look is a bit of an up, though.

"As a kid you're reared on cowboys and Indians, and war films and historical films. All that sort of clothing seemed to suit my physique – I'm not a skinny David Bowie-type.

"You go through a period of imitation – every artist does and should admit to it. Because I don't have a single original thought – I'm the product of what's been laid on me. All my ideas are just re-hashes. What makes you a distinctive or successful artist is your choice of media, and also how you present those interpretations.

"Once that's faced up to, there's no problem about nicking, or incorporating other styles into your style. I love the idea of throwing things together – pirate, Red Indian, 1976 three-chord punk...

"People don't know what's coming next. I don't know what's coming next. I like that feeling. The great thing about fashion is that it changes all the time, and by the time it's established, it's finished. That's the reason I won't stay still."

THE Antmusic For Sexpeople motto under which the firm trades seems more like a Freudian glimpse of Scorpio Adam's psyche than a true definition of the heavily percussive music of this version of Adam And The Ants, a noise that is really closer to camp than smouldering sexuality, more Gary Glitter than Jim Morrison.

Really, any pin-up potential is just a bonus to what gets heard on Radio One: "People like this line-up because we've got a very simple style – they can hum it, bang it one a table, sing it: the melodies are strong and simple."

There is a dark edge, though. This hint of a sinister side could be the cause of Adam's claim that the previous outfit was blacklisted by the major record companies after music press allegations that the singer was flirting with fascism – it was only after sufficient time had elapsed, he says, for this 1977 rumour to die down that the group could get signed to CBS.

This is why they put Dirk Wears White Sox out on the independent Do-It label – though in its nurturing of the Ants' street appeal this only benefitted them in the long run.

"My background on my mother's side is Romany gypsy," states Adam with some passion. "A lot of my family were knocked off in the war by Hitler. Also, my father was one of the tank-drivers that relieved Belsen, which caused him great distress. So I don't really need some dumb-arse's opinion of my attitude towards the Third Reich.

"In fact, early on I was writing songs about fascism because I thought it was a taboo subject that needed bringing down in the same way that Mel Brooks humorously deals with it in The Producers – he takes the power out of it.

"That was the same, really, as the way in which on 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier' I'm talking about the annihilation of the American Indian, even thought I may have reduced it to nursery rhyme terms.

"I've always drawn upon history. I got great interest and excitement out of it at school – to me the connection between kids today and American Indians is very apparent: that was particularly obvious in the reaction that punks would get as they walked down the street, because of the colour they were bringing with them.

"Such a new Puritanism has grown up of late. There's this terrible credibility sickness: (a) you should never do Top Of The Pops, (b) you should never earn any money, (c) you should just be worthless and dull and grey and pessimistic.

"But that's not the case for me at all: I'd rather dress up as Liberace.

"I'll admit I was fooled by those independent label people for a while. After Decca had done that single we went with Do-It, who it was quite exciting to work with for a while. But I haven't seen a penny from it yet.

"It may be very romantic having cult status – but cult is really just a kind word for loser...You end up on just one level, with your audience running your career," Adam sneers, in a voice remarkably akin to the petulant prophet whine of John Rotten.

"The Clash didn't want to do Top Of The Pops, but there were other groups around in 1977 who did have heroes, and didn't wear Dr Marten's. And Adam And The Ants were one of them. I don't see why I should be intimidated into that credibility gap.

"Actually, I've always respected what Joe Strummer's done, ever since The 101'ers. But I've always had my own feeling towards my audience and product and towards my graphic design and choice of imagery and musical topics.

"Also, a lot of the groups from '76/'77 peaked with their first records."

ADAM, OF course, is yet another rock'n'roll product of the English art school system. He quit Hornsey in 1976 two-thirds of the way through his graphics course:

"I didn't see the point in spending the bulk of the third year writing a thesis – it had no relation to what you were going to be earning your living doing. I've done all the graphics for The Ants, though: I was lucky to be able to incorporate the skills I'd acquired into my work." – Adam rarely speaks of his "music", preferring the more creative tang of "work".

His worship of style found its Godhead early on in another example of British art school rock'n'roll output: "Bryan Ferry was like a mentor to me, even though I never met him. He had so much attention to detail, and he's never lowered his standards. I think that is something admirable in any artist, whatever they're doing."

His love of Ferry and Roxy Music almost linked him to the same management team, EG: "It didn't work out, basically because they need that great involvement with Bryan, which is very time-consuming, though," he adds proudly, "they have a couple of my early songs on their catalogue from the Jubilee soundtrack."

These reasons Adam gives for the non-consummation of a management deal with EG are not totally honest – the company also cares for Brian Eno and Robert Fripp. Rather, this is what Adam himself feels about management. Poly Styrene and Classix Nouveaux manager Falcon Stewart had cared for the career of Adam And The Ants following the finish of the McLaren spell. He ceased, however, to work with the by then hugely successful outfit a couple of months ago.

"He never made a full commitment," says Adam, adding that he believes an artist/management relationship only can be on a one-to-one basis. "We just mutually called it a day. My new manager doesn't look after anyone else."

The religious conviction of the total ego with which Adam speaks is such you're inclined to overlook the occasional instances of completely incorrect, or conveniently doctored, information he passes your way. They can't help, though, but sow seeds of doubt about the ambitious Adam's probity – in the re-writing of personal histories where does the dividing line fall between artistic creation and Macchiavellian bullshit?

Certainly, much of the way Adam operates stems from his study of Glam-rockers, even though it was Ferry rather than the more manipulative Ziggy with whom he most closely identified. The Antmovement, though, is most Bowie-like.

"ROXY MUSIC," he says, "are selling a lot more records now than they've ever sold, despite them not being quite as exciting. Of the recent stuff, though, I play Manifesto a lot more than any of the early albums. My favourite, though, is Country Life – 'Really Good Time' is Ferry at his most passionate.

"Roxy have always been consistent, and that is incredibly difficult. I'm concerned that we can keep our original fans in the same way Roxy have. Immediately you have a commercial success you risk losing your original following, because they decide you've become too big and have copped out.

"But I think it's as much a victory for the kids who stuck their necks out two or three years ago and said how much they liked the Ants as it is for me. It's nice for them to be proven right.

"The people that make or break you are often treated with such disrespect. Bands turning up out of it, or giving dreadful shows. My ambition is to produce a consistently good show, so that the audience don't know if I've pulled a muscle, or am having a few problems.

"All my shows have been consistently productive for me. I've learnt something at every show. There's no substitute for getting a bottle in the head at the wrong angle and having to keep singing.

"I've got a responsibility to the audience – to every one of them. For a band that sings so much about themselves, you've got to do something for the people that come to see you.

"It's very clandestine, the Ants following. It's not a mob, it's not an army, it just comes together – people meet, and see the group. They all have one thing in common: they have one thing they like talking about and dressing up for. They stay at each others' houses all round the country. It's incredible the number of kids who follow us around the country.

"I've got the best following, bar none. It's a great compliment. To me the idea of the warrior – which is what they are – is very attractive, because it's above violence. The Ants following is very protective also, as well as being very individual. They may imitate some of what I wear, but," he returns to his favourite yardstick, "when I went to see Roxy Music at the Rainbow in 1973 there were fifty Bryan Ferries."