Watching David Johanson put on his makeup is like watching a prize fighter wrap his wrists, a ballet dancer pin her hair, an addict cook up his score. It’s badass and elegant and dirty and ritualistic, we saw him do it with our very own eyes and now no one can take that away from us. We were peering like a stalker into a fluorescent-lit office behind the reggae and hip-hop section at the Tower Records on Broadway in New York where the New York Dolls were doing an in-store set, but it counts. He was there, like a Don at his desk behind assorted bottles of shitty white wine, wearing shades and a rank white tank top he soon swapped for a child-size hot pink t-shirt. His makeup pouch is black and blue. He smokes like a starlet, struts like a rude boy, and glitters like a rapper with a full set of bling.

“We prolly shoulda rehearsed” Jonahnson growled a few songs in. Whatever they didn’t do should be done all the time because the band sounded awesome, which is a little unusual for recent Dolls shows. From new songs like the lilting pop-gem (“Plenty of Music”) or the grimy romp (“We’re All In Love”) to the requisite encore standards “Looking for a Kiss” and “Personality Crisis” the band’s fans (teenaged skate-punk kids and grown-up Seventies Bowery rats) were ecstatic. And for those who care (which should be everyone) Chrissie Hynde was in attendance with her friend Sandra Bernhard. Ms. Hynde stood unassumingly in the back near a Gnarls Barkley display with her salt n’ pepper shag flowing, hands in her pockets and a messenger bag over her shoulder like she’d just happened by the place on her way to do some organic produce shopping.