Close your eyes and picture Madonna as a roadie for Metallica with a stringy beard and long, dirty blonde hair meant for head-banging. Open them, and what you have is Mandonna’s frontman Mark Edwards. But instead of performing manual labor, he writhes around onstage in a hooker’s wedding dress reminiscent of Madonna’s notorious “Like a Virgin” performance at the very first MTV Video Music Awards in 1984.

Since its creation in 2003, the seven-member dance-band has gained a cult-like following, including one fan who was kicked out of a show after one too many attempts to jump onstage and fondle Mandonna’s package. Mandonna currently rocks venues like the Great American Music Hall and Slim’s (333 11th Street), but is also on the road to hot spots in Southern California and New York.

Opening with “Vogue,” Mandonna motivates the crowd of inebriated shrieking girls and flamboyant grabby guys. I was in heaven, singing along and “voguing” with my girlfriends between sips of vodka tonic. But with the first song down and the second underway, I discovered the real essence of the show at Slim’s.

Things quickly shifted from an outlandish and tacky Madonna tribute to a gay erotic strip show, complete with fucshia sequined hot-pants donned by the two profusely sweaty dancers surrounding Edwards. Costumes resembled a cross between leftovers from Goodwill after Halloween and a drag queen’s closet. Needless to say, it’s pretty hard to buy a man in über tiny white hot-pants (with, might I add, a big peek of what’s tucked in) with the face of a trucker attempting to pay serious alms to the queen of pop.

Mandonna describe themselves as "what would happen if the Material Girl grew chest hair and started hanging out with a glam lounge act." But they fall short of this promise. The show not only lacked glam, but in no way did they invoke the presence of anything resembling Madonna. But that’s ok. Edward’s gruff, perfect for screeching along to Black Sabbath vocals, and the dancers’ overzealous stage antics make for a far better show than watching yet another impersonator attempt to be Madonna.

The newly renamed Kaballah fanatic “Esther” may find the act an insult rather than an honor, with its tacky strip-showesque performance. But for those who grew up with a hairbrush in hand, lip-syncing along to “Material Girl” in their bedrooms, Mandonna is a campy dream come true.