The Dirty Dishes, Wadzilla Mansion, May 8, 2010

Fans of rock music can’t help but be drawn to really talented chicks. They are few and far between. I’m not saying there are a lot of girls without talent trying and failing to play good rock music in Boston. There aren’t that many playing any rock music in any form whatsoever. One could say that rock n roll is a very masculine art form, like stand-up comedy or beer can-architecture.

So Jenny Tuite, a gorgeous axe-shredding siren, is such a fantastic find. Not for me, but for fans of rock music in general, who are a lot of guys who’ve spent a lot of time watching other guys act like guys. Women doing this, and doing it fuckloads better than most guys should make chauvinists reconsider.
Jenny is the lead singer, songwriter and guitarist for The Dirty Dishes, an inventive and original hard-rock foursome with a buttressed foundation of passionate talent. I saw them play last Saturday at Allston’s Wadzilla Mansion. The Dirty Dishes, as individuals, are focused energy beams onto their instruments, but together, they unleash a combined auditory force upon eager audiences.

I was talking with David, the lead singer of SuperVolcano, about them when I heard their set staring up. We made our way towards the basement, the actual venue space, and I asked him what to look for with this new band,
“Their lead singer, Jenny….is siiiiiick.” This last word came out of David’s mouth as an impressive falsetto, showing how much he really dug this chick’s singing.
I went into the pit and watched the show.

Of course the first thing that hit me about this girl was her radiance. She is downright gorgeous. I could get lost and find myself in her eyes. The sheen of her hair reflected the hanging lights. Her hips wore an awesome blue skirt. It exuded a powerful sexiness. Entranced and held, divinely compelled, I soaked in the woman of marble-esque beauty, her voice, her style, the way she held her rhythm guitar.
I’d assumed that the shredding lead guitar was coming from someone in the back-up band that I couldn’t see at the time, but I soon realized it was actually streaming forth from the careful, concentrated fireworks of Jenny and her fingers. She was rocking in a band in Allston, right by the Mass Pike, like nobody’s business, an ethereal Aphrodite in a sea of grungy hardened Hephaestus’ and fronting it easily, singing her dynamic heart out.

The star Jenny should be is astounding. She’d be Karen O, but with intensely involved lead guitar. She’d be Lita Ford, but much more accessible and less obviously a sex symbol (less metal as well, The Dirty Dishes sound like a slightly hard boiled Plants and Animals with a pinch of Cold War Kids)
But goddamn, with those eyes and that presence, she’d be Edie Sedgwick, Janis Joplin and Patti Smith all rolled into one beautiful, talented prophetess for the 21st century, a girl who just plain needs to be shared with the masses.

And like any amazing genius, Jenny’s completely modest about her work. When I worked up the courage to talk to her about what she though her music meant, she nervously looked at her bandmate, saying “Oh man, we suck at this shit.” And like any genius, she works hard, plugging their next gig (Harper’s Ferry, June 8, with The Grass is Green) and giving me a free CD…What a professional!

I feel guilty spending so much time talking about Jenny, neglecting the other members of the band, who were just as talented, but didn’t share the same obvious limelight as Jenny. The rhythm section, with Mike on drums and Jay on Bass, kept the beat and brought the funk so naturally that it looked odd to see them without their instruments after the show. Jay jerked his body wonderfully as he played, in time and in check with every pluck of the bass and I don’t think Mike opened his eyes once during the whole performance.
They were so into their music, a very healthy extroversion for musicians. There are some rockers for which playing releases so much for them. They can play through any stress and every audience member appreciates them for the accompanying theatrics. If you’ve ever watched footage of Pete Townshend playing with The Who, especially in the late 70’s, you can tell he got more out any Who concert than anyone else in the audience or on stage. This is what The Dirty Dishes do as well…and how!

Their synth player and occasional singer, Alex, provided a pitch-perfect counterpoint to Jenny’s stoic grace, head-banging curly brown hair so hard I think his glasses fell off a couple times. The chemistry between them was incendiary. Can I write about any rock show without using the word incendiary? Well, if it was a good show, I don’t think that would be good journalism.
So when the Dirty Dishes finished their set and all I could do was stand and clap, shaking my head like I just saw Jesus himself turning water into wine. Hyperbole? Perhaps, but that’s how I felt and that’s how I acted.

The Dirty Dishes are going places, end of story. In January, they opened for Magic Magic and….wait for it….Passion Pit! Yes, this band I saw in an Allston basement opened for the double P’s. They seem to have taken a liking to them, as a recent blog post from Pit placed The Dirty Dishes at #1 on their playlist. High praises from high places. If that ain’t a fine example of networking, I don’t know what is.
I can’t wait to see Jenny on the cover of magazines. Not just for the aesthetics of how cool that would be, but also to say, “I was there!”