The howling is deafening. The screaming. The hooting. The pumping legs and shaking hips. Is it... the real David Bowie [1] onstage? The Thin White Duke himself?

For the first three chords of "Ziggy Stardust" it's hard to tell it is the house band Kitty Stardust playing and not the rock icon. The crowd is losing it in high-decibel ecstatic moaning. The pair of women in glow-in-the-dark earrings look like they might faint. And everyone is shrieking the lyrics.

Ziggy played guitar!

Tonight is the fifth annual Rock For Pussy [2], a David Bowie tribute extravaganza, at First Avenue [3]. Founded by Current DJ Mary Lucia, the evening not only serves as a glam rock community brouhaha, but also as a fundraiser for the Minnesota Valley Humane Society [4].

Fundraising strategist Adam Mehl says he is excited about the opportunity to mix music with his Humane Society work.

"I've made it a habit of combining work with non-profits and music together," he says. "As an organization, we're excited to get exposure and to have the support of local music community. With all Humane Societies, it's really hard to convey to people we don't get government support."

This is the second year the organization has linked with Rock For Pussy. But for Mehl, his Bowie fanatisim goes way back.

"I got into Bowie with his influence in early punk," he says.

It is a night of music and fashion. Errant Aladdin Sane [7] lightning bolts speckle the faces in the crowd. The pants are tight; the skirts are short. The rabid Bowie fans in front of the stage are neon and glittering and twisting and shimmying as if melding into one sleek creature.

On stage, it's a different story.

Kitty Stardust looks surprisingly un-Bowie. Spare the lead guitarist wearing a black boa and another in a fancy fedora, the band looks like a brood of renegade hippies in paisley print shirts and long, flowing skirts. The drummer is donning a *cringe* mullet. The sound, however, is right on-even including a few nice flourishes. A slick, white Les Paul lends "Queen Bitch" a crunchier sound than the original. "Jean Jeanie" sounds nice with raspy female vocals. And, in some ways, watching Kitty Stardust is better than seeing Bowie in the flesh because concert-goers don't have to wade through a string of new tracks in between the tried and true hits. Rock For Pussy is all about the gems.

The show is laid-back and friendly with a revolving door of notable locals taking spins behind the mic. Among them are singer/songwriter Jeremy Messersmith [8] and Minneapolis celebrity writer Jim Walsh [9], who is tricked out in glittery eye makeup for his version of "Heroes." Local popsmith Sam Keenan [10] is the glammest of them all in a see-through black shirt and silver choker. His version of "DJ" is sexy and riotous, easily one of the evening's best renditions.

The show's highlight is "Fame," played by Minneapolis goth act, All The Pretty Horses [11]. The intro thumps on, vamping and vamping, as two sultry waifs in scandalous police costumes shine mini spotlights on the evening's star, the infamous drag queen Venus De Mars [12]. De Mars, outfitted in a black corset, is passionate and expressive, and best of all, extremely lewd. But it is All The Pretty Horses' drummer, however, who should be Rock For Pussy's poster boy, wearing a cat ear headband and David Bowie tee. Between the band's high-powered glamour and the fashion-forward audience, in that moment, everyone looked like stars.