by Robin Vaughan

The party mood at Dick's Last Resort, a few blocks away, has yet to peak. The plastic Mardi Gras beads are dangling from every sweatshirt collar, the bar and tables are crammed with regular folks (think "Roseanne'') eating from tin buckets, slugging bottled beer and sipping frothy berry drinks through straws.

A couple of people wear masks and silly hats, but it takes the Electrolytes to get their bodies moving. For an air of decadence, Dick's customarily features lip-syncing drag queens at its Fat Tuesday parties. The Electrolytes, a live band with great taste in classic top-40 cover songs, is a step up for entertainment value.

Whether people are aware that the two gorgeous, skin-baring showgirls up front were born boys, the Dick's crowd eats up the act. Within two songs, the dance floor is filled with ungainly but joyfully uninhibited booty-shaking.

The band currently is scouting a soul singer to replace its former frontwoman, but Trinity and Ivory should consider carrying on alone. They pull off the vocals just fine, and they're a perfectly balanced team: one's finger-snapping sassy, one's sweet and adorable.

"Who here's ever been cheated on, raise your hands,'' says Ivory, who never stops smiling. Trinity shoots her hand up, pursing her lips, the other hand on her hip. She's the one who demands to know who just "bum-rushed'' her - "That guy deserves a mask!'' she says, tossing Mardi Gras trinkets into the crowd. This band isn't short on big diva presence - three might just be a crowd.

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