Iggy is still your scraggly dog.

The cops are idle outside of Roseland. They're not interested in the guys peddling tickets, but the concert isn't sold out. Maybe there's no profiteering to be had. Anyway, there's suddenly a big commotion, as the doors to Roseland swing open. Several huge bouncers are carrying out a large naked man. Or, at least, naked in the sense that his shirt is off and his pants and underwear are down to his ankles.

The large naked man is very upset. He looks up at one of his tormenters and shouts, "You?are a nigger!"

It's hard to tell which of the bouncers he's addressing. They're all white. So is the crowd waiting to get inside. Many of them murmur the bemused response that would be shared by anybody checking out Roseland's marquee: "You don't really expect this kind of thing at a Joe Jackson concert."

Things are more mannered a few weeks later. Maybe that's to be expected, since the reunited Iggy & the Stooges are having their big NYC debut at an MTV2 benefit for the AIDS charity LIFEbeat. Like any LIFEbeat event, however, there are barrels of condoms being freely distributed. The organization's big message doesn't really involve keeping your pants on.

The Stooges (with Sonic Youth) weren't able to bring many people out to Jones Beach two weeks before. The venue only managed about 35 percent capacity after slashing the ticket price to $10. But this crowd is close to a sell-out, and only hampered by an unusually high ticket price. And not many people seem to be here for Godsmack's acoustic set. There's a lot of milling about and conversation, and you'd never suspect that the band onstage had recently released a number-one album.

I'm a little tired of working the oldies beat?anyone remember my big Sex Pistols review??and I can't quite claim to be interested. Besides, Godsmack isn't offering much of a stripped-down sound. "Acoustic" now seems to be defined as any performance where the band is sitting in chairs.

The crowd's respectful, but doesn't go really nuts until the headliners emerge at a reasonably early hour. It's only been a few years since I last saw Iggy, but he's really in the best shape of his life. Except for a few more lines on his face, you'd think it was 1979. His only rival as a rock 'n' roll poster boy is still Harvey Sid Fisher.

To his credit, Iggy's sole introduction is a cry of "We're the Stooges!" Chances are that the Ashetons had a little talk with Iggy after the band's Jones Beach appearance, where Iggy kept referring to the other musicians as "his band." Ron and Scott certainly deserve to rank as Stooges on their own, with Ron's guitar-god sound nicely contrasted by a shaggy-haired Michigan sportsman demeanor. Mike Watt's sitting shiva on bass, too, and doing an impressive job. Thankfully, becoming a Stooge has also gotten him shaving again.

And, for maximum effect, there's Steve MacKay stepping in to replicate his sax squonking on prime cuts from Fun House. I would like to clearly state that I only know it's MacKay, however, thanks to a helpful press release. Don't mistake me for the goateed douchebag who's proudly sporting a press pass and trying to impress the girl next to him: "Wow," he says, "that looks like Scott MacKay!"

Iggy doesn't really seem to be self-centered. He's more of a bizarre motivational speaker, marked by an extended period where he keeps proclaiming, "I?am you! I?am you!" Good thing it's a fundraiser, or otherwise people would be demanding their money back. People don't pay big bucks just to see themselves jumping around with their pants falling down.

As it turns out, we get to see a lot of paying customers jumping around. Iggy spends most of the show running amongst?or being carried by?the crowd, and then pays back the favor when he invites a bunch of folks up to the stage. They take over the mic, too, but that's okay. If it were Al Green, I'd be complaining that the singer's just being lazy and making the audience do the work. Iggy's already been impressive enough. Happy idiots are running around on stage, and it just feels like rock spirit.

Further proof comes when the band breaks conventionality and heads right into another number. Iggy launches into "No Fun" while proclaiming to his new cohorts, "Stay up here! I don't care!" Then he perches at the front of the stage while security steps in to guide the fans back to the floor. It works out nicely. Reprising "I Wanna Be Your Dog" seems a little excessive, but it's certainly giving the public what they want.

After the low point of 2001's Beat Em Up?a nu-metal effort so pathetic that most critics pretended it didn't exist?things are looking good for Iggy with the upcoming Skull Ring. The new songs he performs should get anybody excited about the album, even if those Green Day collaborations are coming in a little late. And, seriously, wouldn't we all rather hear him butt heads with Jean Grae instead of Peaches?

Best of luck to Iggy and all, but there's some real perspective to gain after the show. Star Spangles manager Howard Thompson comes up to say hi, and I mention that it was strange that he hadn't shown up at the band's record release party the week before. In fact, the band was weirded out that they hadn't heard from Thompson for several days.

"Oh," he laughs, "I had a heart attack."

"What?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want the band to know. They didn't need any distractions."

Iggy may have the body of a 19-year-old Anthony Kiedis, but let's consider that the real heroes of rock 'n' roll are the guys behind the scenes who actually have to put up with the likes of Iggy and the Stooges. Consider how drastically those guys must have raised the mortality rate at Columbia back in the '60s. Maybe the music industry should leave AIDS to Sharon Stone and concentrate on heart research?specifically, in the name of guys like Howard Thompson. To quote Donna Reed's son speaking of his father, now here is a man.