Gabriella Versace is one of two singers stealing the show from the topless dancers who are the supposed center of attention in the Rio's "Erocktica." Photo by Ronda Churchill

Well, rodeo people, never say Las Vegas doesn't roll it all out for you.

You just know "Buck Wild!" at the Sahara has been ticking off the days until the National Finals Rodeo, itching to sell cowboys a chance to see cowgirls in their Daisy Dukes jiggle around topless to Kid Rock's "Cowboy."

But competition is the American way, Hoss. And when "Erocktica" reopened at the Rio in late October, after a two-month break for an overhaul, it came back with its own topless cowgirls and even more current mall-country hits.

If your strip clubs back home won't cue up Gretchen Wilson's "All Jacked Up," Cowboy Troy's "I Play Chicken With the Train" or Big & Rich's "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" (and to be honest, I don't know why they wouldn't), then here's your chance to see them brought to life in all their silicone glory.

Beyond that, there's not a whole lot to say about this revue that wasn't said the first time around, when it opened in February as "Erocktica Live!" Producer Greg Thompson says the first version didn't pull in enough extra people to pay for the live band that was supposed to expand interest beyond the usual audience for a topless casino show.

Scrapping the band is a trade-off. The show loses the live-rock energy that did bring something novel to the table, and put a little sass in the dancers' bounce. But the first try also bogged down in the AC/DC school of biker rock, leaving it nowhere to go after the first half hour.

"Erocktica Mach II," as Spinal Tap might call it, switches to recorded backing tracks. That curbs the energy in the room, but gives the two singers held over from the first edition a chance to bend the genres.

The whimsically named and superheroine-costumed Gabriella Versace (think WWE babe meets Mariah Carey video) mellows it out for the Pointer Sisters' "Slow Hand" and Tina Turner's "Private Dancer." It's a ballad, but its lyrics were thoughtful enough to allow for stripper poles.

Versace's partner, Ray-J (Raymond Jones), still uses his husky, eight-cylinder voice to burn through the rock tunes, from M?tley Cr?e's "Shout at the Devil" to the Guess Who's "American Woman." Truth be told, his voice is the more soulful when he's kicking in the harmony vocals to her overblown lead on "Total Eclipse of the Heart."

Like Thompson's other Las Vegas revue, "Skintight," the singing hosts steal the show from the topless dancers who are supposed to be the center of attention. Most of what the six women do you've probably seen before. The few touches of wit or imagination are the exception, not the rule.

When ZZ Top's "Tush" fires up, four derrieres pop through the slits in the rear-screen backdrop. There's also a fun scene with one tuxedo-clad female leading another to a wedding on a leash, evoking the kinkier thrills of a rival show, "The Fashionistas."

The rest of it's a lot of strutting around and getting tangled up in swaths of fabric. None of it lives up to the promise of the set -- a ramp that encircles a red sofa full of pillows -- which turns out to be more suggestive than anything that occurs on it.

At this point in the evolution of Las Vegas, there's the question of who this show is supposed to appeal to, brought out by its overly literal approach. Ray-J doesn't just do a Kid Rock medley, he comes out dressed like Kid Rock to do it. Are his numerous outfit changes real rock 'n' roll? Or a dress-up show for older tourists who don't get out much?

And Ray-J still talks too much, imparting such wisdom as "If you put some ass in my face, I'm gonna clap."

Constantly goading the crowd to pump up the enthusiasm should be a sign that something's wrong here. Maybe they'll fix it in Mach III.