David Bowie has assumed many personas in his nearly 40-year career, from thin white duke to glassy-eyed space alien to gender-bending cult icon. But Monday night at Kansas City’s Starlight Theatre, Bowie was decidedly himself: an ingratiating rock star.

Looking hip, slim and remarkably spry, the 57-year-old Bowie performed for a diverse crowd that included everyone from Grandma to the spooky Goth ‘tween next door. Bowie, who holds dear all things weird, reveled in the mix and obligingly sashayed through a tight, two-hour set.

The British rocker was judicious in his song selection, running through several tunes from his latest album, 2003’s “Reality,” while lavishing plenty of attention on his longtime fans by dusting off his greatest hits. Bowie’s magnificent six-piece backing band brought classics such as “China Girl,” “Fashion,” “All the Young Dudes” and “Fame” to new life.

The man of the hour ate it up.

“Kansas City, you’re beautiful,” Bowie proclaimed, before allowing his ever-quotable wit to break through. “Well, some of you look better than others, but on the whole …”

Other high points of the evening included a beautiful rendition of 1970’s “The Man Who Sold The World,” a rollicking run-through of The Modern Lovers’ “Pablo Picasso” and an unbelievable take on “Under Pressure,” Bowie’s 1982 collaboration with Queen.

“Freddie Mercury had a previous engagement tonight,” Bowie said, referring to Queen’s late, great vocalist, “so my able bandmate Gail Ann Dorsey will be stepping in.”

Younger fans snickered as “Under Pressure” began: Its infamous bass riff, after all, was unabashedly pilfered by Vanilla Ice in the 1990 single, “Ice, Ice Baby.” But when Dorsey proceeded to channel the voice of Mercury with haunting precision, the giggles quickly morphed into screams of awe.

Bowie, sporting a sleeveless black T-shirt and a haphazard canary-yellow tie, completed his set of 20-odd songs under inky skies before returning for a rousing three-song encore that featured — quite unexpectedly — 1976’s dissonant canon “Station to Station.”

His audience pleaded for even more, but Bowie, a thinking man’s rock god if there ever was one, was mindful of his mystery. He flipped his floppy locks, embraced his band, waved farewell and was gone.

Abandoned energy hung in the air, and the faithful reluctantly turned to the aisles. Yet, disappointment was trumped by reassurance. It was clear to all that Ziggy Stardust still lives.