Deja Vu All Over Again : By the time they get to ‘Woodstock ‘94,’ Crosby, Stills & Nash will be back where they started 25 years ago. Are they going there to impart a sense of history? Not these guys.

When David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash went on stage at Woodstock in 1969, it was only their second show together.

This year the band celebrates a quarter-century of music-making with an album, a tour and, fittingly, a performance at “Woodstock ‘94,” which will be Aug. 13 and 14 in Upstate New York.

But if these three ‘60s survivors are supposed to present themselves as solemn elder statesman of the Woodstock Nation, they aren’t playing the part very well.

Crosby, Stills and Nash are in a Burbank recording studio working on the final track for their first album together in four years.

Considering the trio’s ties to Woodstock, their respective backgrounds with the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and the Hollies, and their fitful relationship with Neil Young, they represent an enormous chunk of rock ‘n’ roll history.

But the mood in the room is not one of dignified reflection--and there’s no talk of historical significance. Instead, food fights are narrowly avoided, O.J. jokes are circulated and spreading waistlines are made fun of.

The band so famous for its heady harmonies and shifting grudges is, in short, having a hoot.

“Our general rule is, ‘If it ain’t fun, we ain’t going,’ ” says Stills, 49. “We enjoy laughing too much. We can’t think of ourselves as a big deal. Not in here, anyway. We poke fun at each other relentlessly. And after all this time, it’s still not as much fun to make music if the other two aren’t around.”

The music at hand is a Stills composition titled “Only Waiting for You.” The group thought it had completed its album, “After the Storm,” during recording sessions with producer Glyn Johns, whose credits--from the Rolling Stones and the Who to Eric Clapton and the Eagles--represent another chunk of rock history. But two weeks into their current tour, Stills put together what may be the record’s strongest track. Instead of taking a weekend tour break, the band has returned to the studio with longtime CSN keyboardist/vocalist Michael Finnigan and are yukking it up.

“‘We sound like church geeks,” complains Crosby, 52, after hearing a playback of the song. He’s at a microphone with Nash and Finnigan saying that the “ooohs” they’re singing over Stills’ lead are too sweet.

The part is changed to “aah” on a second take, but the attack is too harsh for Stills’ taste.

“Good God,” Stills grumbles in the control room, “not so much Bruce Lee.”

“Well, it’s hard competing with Mr. ‘Star Search’ Voice here,” says Finnigan, eyeing Crosby.

When it looks as if a musical impasse is nearing, Nash diplomatically works out a part his bandmates are happy with. On the final take, the blend is just right. And when Nash bends his note in counterpoint to Crosby’s, there it is: the shimmering mix of voices the group is famous for.

Stills’ smoky baritone is now mostly grit and gravel, and his partners’ harmonies aren’t as pristine as they were back in the “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” days of the late ‘60s, but the gracefully spirited union of their talents is still powerful and affecting. The new song has sprung to life.

Later, away from the mike, Crosby flashes a mischievous grin. “Man, these were supposed to be vacation days for us. But Stephen had to go and write the single after we finished the album--the dip.”

“Actually this is not unusual at all,” Nash, 52, points out. “The same thing happened on (the 1970 album) ‘Deja vu.’ We didn’t quite have an opener for that one. We said, ‘When you tear the shrink wrap off the LP, what’s the first thing you want to hear?’

“We told Stephen we didn’t have it. The next day he came in and said, ‘What about this?’ and played ‘Carry On.’ David and I got a bit wide-eyed and said: ‘OK, Stephen. I think we hear it now. Thanks very much.’ ”

Crosby, Stills & Nash were among the first collections of rock ‘n’ roll notables to be dubbed a super-group. But, as each member emphasizes in separate interviews, their intention in getting together all those years ago was to be more of an anti-group.

“The reason we used our own names when we started the band was because we also wanted to pursue individual careers as well,” explains Crosby. “We didn’t like being locked into roles the way we were in Buffalo Springfield and the Byrds and the Hollies.

“We’ve always pursued other projects, and we sing on other people’s records all the time. It’s a tremendously healthy way to do things because you get a chance for some musical cross-pollination and you learn something new. And when we’re ready, we bring it all back to CSN.”

The three met through Cass Elliot of the Mamas & the Papas. When they first sang together--in Elliot’s kitchen or in Joni Mitchell’s living room, depending on who’s telling the story--the sound they made eased their fears about collaborative work. All had bad tastes in their mouths regarding previous affiliations: Crosby had splintered from the Byrds acrimoniously, Nash had tired of the Hollies’ pop direction, and Stills was bitter over the breakup of Buffalo Springfield.

Nash (who believes it was at Mitchell’s house) recalls that the first song they worked on was “You Don’t Have to Cry,” which appeared on the trio’s debut album.

“David and Stephen had worked out the song, and after I heard it a couple of times, I came up with a part to fit against theirs,” he says, sitting on a patio during a break in the recording session. “Halfway through it, we burst out laughing. Because as much as we were bored with groups at the time, and as much as we (each) didn’t want to be in anything remotely resembling the band we had been in, we realized that we were going to have to spend some time together.”

Their first album, 1969’s “Crosby, Stills & Nash,” was something of a last prayer for the ‘60s counterculture. The fluid, folky grooves of the music and the wizened idealism of songs such as “Wooden Ships” and “Long Time Gone” seemed a perfect soundtrack for the Woodstock summer. The album made it to No. 6 on the pop charts, and Nash’s upbeat “Marrakesh Express” single made the Top 40.

The group quickly added Neil Young, who had played with Stills in Buffalo Springfield, and after some particularly volatile recording sessions, the foursome released “Deja vu” in 1970. That record went to No. 1, partly on the strength of the group’s first Top 20 single, the Joni Mitchell-penned “Woodstock.”

Nash’s gentle Aquarius Age anthem “Teach Your Children” was released as a second single. The song was headed for the Top 10, but when four student protesters were killed by National Guardsmen at Kent State University, the band quickly recorded and released Young’s angry response to the deaths. CSNY’s “Ohio” made it to the Top 20 and knocked “Teach Your Children” off the charts.

There also have been some memorable lowlights over the years. The band is closely associated with Woodstock, but they also played with the Rolling Stones, Jefferson Airplane and others at the ill-fated Altamont show in California. A fan was stabbed to death during a melee in front of the stage.

The lowest point came in 1985 when, after several years of drug addiction, Crosby was incarcerated for nearly a year in Texas on drug and weapons violations.

“It was a terrible time, because I had stopped writing,” Crosby says now. “And I’m not good for much of anything in this world if I’m not making music. I’m fortunate that Stephen and Nash stood by me, and I’m writing more than ever now. I’ve probably only made a couple of smart decisions in my life. One was marrying my wife (the former Jan Dance, in 1987), and the other was getting sober.”

Since “Deja vu” there have been three more Crosby, Stills & Nash albums: “CSN” in 1977 and “Daylight Again” in 1982, both of which made the Top 10, and 1990’s “Live It Up,” which didn’t crack the Top 50.

But it is misleading to measure the trio’s contributions in terms of official CSN albums. Through the years there have also been two more CSNY albums, several Crosby-Nash packages, a Stills-Young collection and numerous solo projects.

Although the media has often written about CSN in terms of breakups and reunions, Crosby sees their efforts as part of a continuing stream.

“Breakups and reunions are more dramatic, but it’s a bunch of crap,” Crosby says with a laugh. “We’re doing what we intended to do when we started. One of the reasons I don’t think much about this being our 25th-anniversary tour is that we’ve never really stopped, except for the year that I was in the joint. One way or another, we’ve worked together every year since we started.”

The band opened its current five-month North American tour in June with a rare club show, at L.A.’s House of Blues. It will include shows Oct. 17 and 18 at the Universal Amphitheatre.

Asked whether there was any talk of bringing in erstwhile cohort Young for the new record, Crosby grins.

“Let’s put it this way,” he says. “You don’t bring Neil Young anyplace. ‘Neil, over here please’ just doesn’t apply. It’s never worked that way. And, frankly, I love the guy, but he needs us like a stag needs a hatrack. Once in a while, when we really need to pull out the horsepower, we’ll get together.

“We did it at Bill Graham’s wake (in 1991), and it was one of the best afternoons we’ve had in many years. And friends of mine who are totally honest with me--Phil Lesh and Jerry Garcia from the (Grateful) Dead and Robin Williams--heard that and said, ‘That’s the real stuff. What’s the matter with you guys? Why don’t you do that?’ ”

That’s the question that producer Johns forced the group to confront as they made “After the Storm,” which will be released Aug. 16. CSN had always produced their own work, but, because they were unhappy with the sound of their last couple of albums, they brought in Johns in hopes of recapturing some of the magic.

“I set out to make a record that was true to the sound that excited all of us who loved Crosby, Stills & Nash at the beginning,” Johns says.

The group says their newest songs do well among the old favorites in their concert sets. All three wrote for the album, and lyrically the material continues the familiar CSN weave of self-examination, romantic intrigue and political consciousness. The record also features a stark reading of the Beatles’ “In My Life.”

Adds Johns, “Bands that have been around as long as they have naturally try to change with the times and adapt what they do. But I felt now would be a great time to have a record that related a little more to what they used to be. That’s what I set out to achieve, and they readily climbed on board.”

The group wasn’t so eager to return to Woodstock, though. They were ready to record and ready to tour, but they didn’t see much point in playing at something they saw as an attempt to cash in on nostalgia.

But as the bill began to fill up with acts such as Aerosmith, Nine Inch Nails, Cypress Hill and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, CSN decided they could stop worrying about the day’s cultural significance and simply enjoy the show.

Crosby holds out hope that some of that original spirit will surface even at this tightly scheduled, highly organized ‘90s-era event.

“Old unreconstructed hippie that I am, I’ve been trying to cause as much trouble as I can,” he says, smiling. “I’m loudly predicting that at this carefully managed 250,000-people event, 2.8 million people will show up, and I’m hoping it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“If every Grateful Dead fan in the country packs up their tie-dye and gets there, nobody would be happier than me. I’d love to see a 10-mile-long tailgate party on the New York Thruway. It’d be nice to think that there are still some things that aren’t totally manageable.”

Nash says that despite the trip back to Woodstock, CSN remains intently focused on its future and the music to come.

“I suppose we could spend time dwelling on how meaningful we are, and how important the last 25 years are, but we don’t. We’re lucky to take it a day at a time. We can’t continually look into the past, because that’s not who we are anymore.

“We’ve all grown as musicians, and we’ve expanded as people.” He rests a hand on his midsection and cocks an eyebrow. “Please smile when you say we’ve expanded.”

Stills says he is simply looking forward to a weekend of good music and better accommodations than they had 25 years ago.

“Of course we had mixed feelings about going back to Woodstock,” he says, “but we’re going to have fun with it. We just want to arrive early and get a good parking space. We’ve got a much nicer tour bus this time around, and as long as I’m on the bus, I know I’ll be comfortable.”