The erotic powerhouse of rock 'n' roll

"Today she celebrates her sixtieth birthday. It's hard to believe," concluded an article in this newspaper exactly twenty years ago. It chronicled Deborah Harry's biography in staccato detail, from her band's beginnings at New York's CBGB club to the 2003 release of "The Curse of Blondie." It also reported, not without a certain amount of respect, how the singer presented herself during her then-current tour. She once again wore her old wardrobe of tight leather and high heels with considerable conviction. Wind machines at the edge of the stage made her blonde hair blow.

She still wears her mane today, as recent photos show, although it's now shimmering silver. She recently modeled for photographer Bruce Gilden in New York in an advertising campaign for sunglasses, which were a staple of the city for a while. Her eyes hidden behind dark lenses, her half-open mouth had to suffice to convey an erotic promise. And when Nan Goldin shot a series of Gucci ads with her at the end of last summer, she showed the photographer her bare shoulder in a London taxi, clutching the bag named after her band.

"Sex sells," Deborah Harry dictated to a music critic in the late 1970s, coolly claiming that she would gladly fulfill any cliché if it led to success. Thus, having waited tables as a bunny in one of Hugh Hefner's Playboy clubs didn't harm her image at all. Her insight hasn't changed a good half century later. Her attitude, apparently, hasn't either. It's almost a miracle, however, that her calculations continue to pay off.

Deborah Harry by no means invented the erotic power of rock 'n' roll. Men had done that long before her. But as a woman she blazed a trail without which there might never have been a Madonna , a Christina Aguilera or a Lady Gaga. At the end of the 1970s she initially associated eroticism with so much shabbiness and violence that she was given the title "Queen of Punk" even though the music of her band was heading in a different direction. Later, however, at Studio 54 or in Andy Warhol's Factory, she adopted the glamorous attitude of the aloof femme fatale. With a piercing, challenging gaze.

Her prominent cheekbones were always made up as if they were supporting her hooded, almond-shaped eyes. "When I get a face lift," Andy Warhol confided in his diary, "I want to look like Deborah Harry." She was the sphinx of pop. And in this respect she was even ahead of him, the other New York icon of the 1970s. There had never been more mystery. And no one could wish that she would ever drop the mask. It had to remain a projection screen. That's how it should be with icons .

Just as their music was never easy to define. The fact that Blondie was initially classified as punk had more to do with the group's origins: the dark clubs of New York's seedy Eastside, where Patti Smith and bands like the Ramones experimented with particularly aggressive forms of music. Blondie, on the other hand, unhesitatingly embraced everything the multicultural diversity of the big city offered them. Their records jumped from one track to the next between hard rock, disco and new wave, reggae, calypso and ska, pop and cocktail jazz, and almost as an afterthought, Deborah Harry became the first woman to land a rap record in the charts – until the postmodern approach of their bold foray into the treasure trove of musical styles led to a certain disorientation.

After a handful of global hits and six albums that sold 40 million copies, she and her partner Chris Stein disbanded the band in 1982, but reunited in 1999 and produced another global hit with "Maria," as well as other records. In between, Harry released solo albums, acted in films with David Cronenberg, and explored new territory with the quirky "Jazz Passengers." From her cool, slightly nasal alto voice, she coaxed nuances ranging from murmuring to powerful, from bell-like to squeaky to wicked.

A few years ago, Blondie were on the road again, supporting Phil Collins on his self-deprecatingly titled "Not Dead Yet" tour. And Deborah Harry exuded undaunted, albeit tongue-in-cheek, cool sex appeal. Blondie have even announced a new album for this year. But today, Deborah Harry is celebrating her eightieth birthday. It's hard to believe.