For a dose of very adult Halloween entertainment (seriously, leave the kids at home for this one), I wholeheartedly recommend that your get your costumed butt over to St. Ann's Warehouse in Dumbo and snag tickets to one of the final performances of The Tiger Lillies.

I’m finding myself at a bit of a loss as to how I can succinctly and accurately describe The Tiger Lillies, so I’ll serve you with a mish-mash. They are a three-man musical act, hailing from London, that play a show conjuring up pre-war Berlin, vaudevillian, gypsy cabaret…in sad clown make-up. It might be a stretch to classify this musical trio’s performance as “theater,” and yet it is unquestionably one of the most entrancingly theatrical things I’ve witnessed in a while. Fog hangs in the air, and jack-o-lanterns adorn the stage.  Lead singer Martyn Jacques beckons you into the freakshow with his vampy accordion and impish scowl, painted on in black. His earth-shattering falsetto is both unsettling and remarkably, hauntingly beautiful, whether he's singing raucous, comical songs, or sadder, seedier material. They tap into an unquestionably dark vein of the human existence, one which reigns during Halloween: madness, violence, sex, death, suicide. Their enrapturing stories tell the tales others won’t, from the one-armed carnival worker, to the drug-addled prostitute, to the man with a particular, ahem, fondness for hamsters.

The show is bawdy, vulgar, and certainly not for the faint of heart, and you can tell that the trio derives a perverse pleasure in shocking people. “I shouldn’t be allowed to sing my songs of filth to a decent crowd,” Jacques winks in one song. But they are in NYC after all, and the almost comically diverse audience went completely wild for them, stomping, howling, and clapping along.

The Tiger Lillies' sheer technical ability is astounding, as Martyn Jacques and Adrian Stout, the two original members of the band, play at least a dozen instruments which they seamlessly transition between, including the accordion, piano, contrabass, piano, ukelele, and many more. The drummer, Michael Pickering, also played his part with macabre, unabashed showmanship.

One can only dream about seeing these gents in a smoky Parisian nightclub in the 1920s, sipping absinthe. But even in a cavernous, warehouse space, The Tiger Lillies offer a bizarre, transportive, inexplicably unique experience that makes you want to howl like the Cheshire Cat, “we’re all mad here!

The Tiger Lillies perform "Songs of Horror and Havoc" at St. Ann's Warehouse through November 1. For more information and tickets, visit https://www.stannswarehouse.org/