The Dishes, The Dishes (No. 89 Records) 9
The Dishes are reviving down 'n' dirty punk rock's post-Motorcity and roots along the lines of The Effigies, Naked Raygun and Cleveland's The Pagans. With the help of brother band The Nerves and other like-minded rocker cronies, the Chicago-based Dishes just might make the Midwest a place to punk out again. Overproduced mope rock, pretentious indie rock and testosterone addled lout rock are really getting to be a drag. The Dishes are the perfect antidote for anyone craving short bursts of unpretentious songs that can kick Limp Biscuit ass. Straw-grasping critics will compare The Dishes to every girl group under the sun. If anything, they recall the varied tempos and percussive vocals of late-70s mostly-female Brit bands Liliput, Delta 5, and early Slits and Au Pairs. More so in live shows than the album lets on, singer/guitarist Sarah Staskauskas lets loose some piercing rockabilly hics and Iggy Pop Fun House grunts and squeals as channeled through Liliput's Kaudia Schiff. The thirteen concise songs blow past in under 28 minutes and are best heard twice in a row to notice the details. "Punch Drunk" couples a fragment of Cheap Trick's "He's A Whore" with a melody that rivals the best of Sleater-Kinney. "Remote Control" is centered around a great locomotive guitar riff that would do the early Blues Explosion proud. "French Kissing" is hung on a tightly wound Wire hook, and "Lonely Nation" slows it down to a menacing strut. Time will tell if Sarah, Kiki, Sharon and Graeme fulfill the promise of their onstage rockstar charisma. For now, it's enough that the album will inspire a new generation of girls and boys to become guitar slingers. Slip The Dishes into your little sister's collection and hide her N'Sync. She may get in more trouble in the short run, but trust me, you'll like her better when she's grown up.
