The True Colors Tour at Radio City Music Hall, New York, NY, June 18, 2007

Cyndi Lauper (a.k.a. my childhood idol) founded the True Colors Tour in support of gay and lesbian rights. The show was advertised as five hours of music, but yours truly doesn't have the butt muscles to sit for longer than two, so I showed up at 9 PM only to learn Debbie Harry had just finished her set. Shit. I also missed Amanda Lepore and Cazwell, the Gossip, and the Dresden Dolls. But I did manage to see Rosie O'Donnell do some stand-up. "Where are my gays?!" she screamed to a hall full of mostly gays. "I just spent the last nine years with heterosexual women," she said, referring to her time on The View.

O'Donnell wasn't supposed to be part of the tour, but due to getting the boot from the daytime talk show after a scuffle with one of the talking heads whose name I don't recall nor care to, O'Donnell was a free agent. Her friend Lauper called her on the phone: "I just watched you on The View. You're fucked! Come on tour."

So here she was, wearing bright yellow Crocs that could be seen from the rafters. O'Donnell fired some shots at Donald Trump and Larry King, but took time to exalt the female flesh. "What I love more than my body is Beth Ditto's body!" she bellowed, referring to the big, sexy lead singer of the Gossip who recently posed nude on the cover of British music rag NME.

Erasure was up next, led by the ever so light-in-his-loafers Andy Bell and Vince Clarke. The performance was pure Euro-gay-disco circa 1980. As Bell flitted across the stage, fully equipped with masterful jazz hands, it was like witnessing a cross between the Ice Capades and Lord of the Dance. The guys were losing their minds. I'm pretty sure this was the most intense dancing that Radio City has ever witnessed. Dudes were sweating, pumping their fists in the air, and shakin' ass down the aisles. When Bell asked the crowd "What's your favorite thing to do in bed?" he gave the mic to some chick who squeaked, "Something to do with dinner!!" Uh, honey? Methinks you didn't understand the question. Bell took the mic back and heaved, "My favorite thing is fel-laaay-tio." You don't say?

Margaret Cho leveled the scales with her proclamation of butch-love. She loooves uber-butch women – "The kind of woman who rolls her own tampons." She also offered marital advice: "The secret to a happy marriage is to fuck a lot of other people. It takes a village."

When the grand dame Cyndi Lauper appeared in a black corset-like top, layered, shredded skirt, and short, purple hair, it was so reminiscent of the cover of She's So Unusual, I had to catch my breath. (You know how everyone has that one album that set them off? That was my album. Now you know.) After proclaiming herself to be "friends and family" (Lauper's sister is gay), she spoke in support of the Matthew Shepard Act that is making its way through Congress, and how she met Judy Shepard, Matthew's mom, who told her "don't hate the haters." Then she bounced all over stage to "The Goonies R Good Enough" and "Hole in My Heart (All the Way to China)" and waded into the fawning crowd. Grabbing a guitar, she performed "When You Were Mine" and a skewered version of the masturbation ode "She Bop."

Throughout her performance, Lauper rolled on the floor, stomped barefoot across the stage, threw her leg over the speakers, and sang so vibrantly, she illuminated the whole of Radio City. Naturally, at the end of the night, many of the tour's performers joined Lauper onstage for "True Colors" along with the Youth Pride Chorus. With a raised fist, she proclaimed power to the people, and she meant it.

The Paybacks at Hudson River Park, New York, NY, 6/28/07. Photo by J. Jasper © 2007 NY Rock.

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, the Dollyrots, the Paybacks at Hudson River Park, New York, NY, June 28, 2007

It's mandated by law that anytime Joan Jett plays a gig, NYRock is there to report back. Billed as a free show at the Hudson River Park at Pier 54, the lineup featured the Paybacks, the Dollyrots, and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Unfortunately, the weather reports were not in our favor – there were threats of damaging winds, torrential rain, hail, lightning, flooding, and Republicans. But would that stop us? Pish.

First thing to know: the Hudson River Park is a pier of concrete. I didn't see a lick of greenery, save for the girl with the emerald Manic Panic locks. Second: there is a very thick, frothy layer of khaki-colored scum coating the Hudson River close to the pier. It's nasty as all get-out yet impossible to stop staring at.

When my harem of rock whores and I were let onto the pier, we made our way to the stage because – as regular readers will recall – the Paybacks are one of the baddest-assed bands on the planet. I had a moment of inner turmoil when I admitted to myself that I was more excited to see the Paybacks than the Blackhearts probably because the latter has played a bunch of times over the past year, and it's not like the Paybacks come into town as frequently. With a dark gray cloud looming to the north, the Paybacks brought their own electrical storm in the form of knee-knocking, titty-twisting Detroit rock 'n' roll led by human hurricane Wendy Case. The wind was picking up, but save for a stage banner coming undone and flapping in the air, and Case's dress threatening to end up around her shoulders, we avoided Ma Nature's wrath – turns out she can be soothed with a dose of rawk.

That is, until the Dollyrots took the stage and the clouds began to leak, but this crowd sure as sugar wasn't going anywhere. The power-pop trio was a Radio Disney wet dream. Singer/bassist Kelly Ogden's voice was like Cyndi Lauper's speaking voice, and the peppy, cheeky songs were as harmless as a stick of Juicy Fruit. But after just being ravaged by Wendy Case's mauling roar, the transition to a singer who sounded like she had a helium balloon stuck between her ass cheeks wasn't exactly smooth.

By the end of their set, it was raining. Efforts to pretend it was just a passing sprinkle were moot, but it didn't stop people from trying. "It's not that bad!" (Yes it is.) "Really!" (No, really.) "We're just a little moist!" (I can wring my hair out.) "She'll be out any minute!" (No she won't.) "I think it's clearing up!" (The sky is dark, jackass.)

On the upside, we discovered that a Joan Jett show in the rain is sexier than a Joan Jett show not-in-the-rain. We were all wet and restless, and no doubt our vixen was delighted. To add to the sexy vibe, Joan almost had a nip-slip. Her vinyl vest was unzipped low enough that she had to do a bit of damage control before we saw a wardrobe malfunction. Joan grinned and said one of her girls would pop out before the night is over. We should be so lucky. You know, damnit, we're a mouseclick away from Internet pictures of Britney's and Paris' vajayjay, but could we be fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of Joan Jett's nipple in the flesh? No, but I'm still holding out.

Ah Joan, with a smile so charming, she makes George Clooney look like Don Knotts. And watching her watch us that night, you could clearly see genuine humility behind those eyes of hers. (And probably a million kinky delights.) I could elaborate on her cheek bones, her mouth, her gruff voice, her rock-n-roll poses, her booty, etc., but a friend put it best: she makes you feel sexy. My friend declared, stone-faced, "I would sleep with anyone in that band." (Bet she didn't see Kenny Laguna, stage right, hidden by a wall of speakers.) But I knew what she was saying. Jett extends her own confidence to fans and you can see the starry-eyed transformation take place. It's a beautiful thing. Everyone needs to feel sexy, and to have Joan freakin' Jett provide the catalyst is quite the experience. It mirrors the way Jett herself absorbed the awesomeness of songs – like "Crimson and Clover" and "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" – and then radiated that awesomeness outward for us to then absorb. Or something. It's probably molecular fusion or some shit. But don't ask me. I was too busy blinking raindrops out of my eyes and ducking an unwieldy umbrella held by a ginormous lady with multiple face piercings.

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