“Welcome to the Kremlin West!”

Aglitter in a sequined sheath, Sandra Bernhard took the Joe’s Pub stage like a bat outta hell, that is a rock goddess, belting Bobby Womack’s “Across 110 Street,” backed by her first-rate Sandy Squad Band. On this, her tenth anniversary celebration doing New Year’s at this venerable Village venue, she does not disappoint, featuring fresh snark and keeping it true. Taking a break from filming “Pose,” (–oops, “did I drop Pose. That’s so unlike me.” Bat bat bat.), she tips her hat to the queens Olivia Coleman, Nancy Pelosi, and Nicole Wallace. Mashing up the Zeitgeist, she reveals our inner angst over the ecology, the president, Walmart, Blue Apron. The passing of Barney’s had her rushing back to Mount Sinai for further tests! Oh, she’s well connected and drops names like gumdrops: Barbara Streisand, Chrissie Hynde, Carole King, Emma Stone, Debbie Harry, Julianne Moore—as if we too know these people, and would be there if they were having a holiday party—just saying. That should be our biggest worry!

Next to “Sandemonium,” her last nod to “mayhem and madness,” when she pushed her fans to RESIST, her current political chops reflect our mood, resignation, what we all feel. Her “This too shall pass” has become something else, soft, even when she extolls the virtues of her idol on the courts, Serena Williams. Oh well, what does it say that “Summertime Sadness” is one of her new songs?

The trademark Sandy themes emerge: Her daughter Cecily and partner Sarah become linguistic props for family satire as does the spirit of her deceased mother Jeanette. How bad could it have been growing up in Arizona? She channels Linda Ronstadt for “Different Drum.” Bernhard’s rendition could be her theme song: her stand up career has been set to the beat of a different drum, never caving to conventional commercial taste: “Didn’t get the joke! It’s a visual,” she lets out one of her good-natured sneers. And then cajoles her ample fans to drop everything and buy the merch.

Telling a drug story, a typical evening at home nibbling edibles and watching “The Godfather” with Sarah and Cecily when sometime around the reveal of the horse’s head, something goes wrong and she freaks out in improbable ways. The story ends with a rendition of the Stone’s “She’s Like a Rainbow,” and what it took for Sarah, herself impaired, to stand by her in this time of psychic distress. It all comes back to “Love is the only act left.”

She’s a woman of our time and we love her.