Primo Donnas

Back at Irving Plaza, the Donnas take a mid-interview break. The venue's doors have just opened, and fans, fleeing the midwinter cold, come streaming in. ''Can I have a pass?'' Robertson asks her flack. ''[Doormen] never believe I'm in the band.'' Like her bandmates, Robertson is so unassuming-looking, so unlike her tough-gal persona, that people don't recognize her.

That could change now that Atlantic Records has propelled them into the pop marketplace. It's a move they were initially wary of, especially after the successful follow-ups to ''Rock 'N' Roll Machine'' -- 1999's ''Get Skintight'' and 2001's ''The Donnas Turn 21'' -- confirmed their status as indie-rock stalwarts. ''We were scared,'' Robertson says. Anderson jumps in: ''You hear stories about how people's labels make them lose weight or something. I was like, 'They're going to give us gym memberships and send us for facials and to get waxed from head to toe.'''

Braving the terrors of spa treatments, the Donnas went for it. Not surprisingly, taking The Joke prime time has changed their lives. ''We were trying to keep our expectations low,'' says Ford. ''It's weird to hear your song while you're going to the bathroom at a movie theater, which happened the other night.'' ''It was such a surreal moment,'' says Castellano. ''I didn't even recognize it.''

As opening band Longwave takes the Irving Plaza stage, Ford dips her hand into a bag of Skittles, passes it to Castellano, and hauls out another Jacko bit. ''How do you know if Michael Jackson's having a party?'' she asks, unable to conceal a hint of a grin. ''There are a lot of tricycles parked out front. Woo!''