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in College Station
Story and photo by
Karl Pallmeyer
If you saw the members of
the Dishes away from the stage,
you might think they were nutty
bunch of neighbors. It’s hard to
imagine that this group of four
people, who look nice but seem
a little strange, play some of the
best rock ! n ! roll that has ever
been written with an emphasis
on fun.
Jimmy Raycraft, 34, looks
like your typical high school
physics teacher — short and
balding and probably not unfa
miliar with hearing the term
“dork” used behind his back.
Actually, Raycraft is a guitar wiz
and lead vocalist with a stage
presence that borrows from
Fete Townshend, Jeff Beck and
Jerry Lewis. On stage, Raycraft
is like a standup comic with a
guitar as he jokes about his hair,
music, Lou Reed, Elvis Presley,
mayonnaise pizzas and fellow
band members Dickie Malone,
Barbara Donaho and Pete Fal
cone.
Malone, 37, seems like he
would be more at home driving
a Mack truck and drinking beer
than playing bass. He strikes a
John Entwistlesque “bored with
it all” pose with his 1957
Fender Precision bass resting
on his oversized belly. He stares
straight ahead through his
shades and never opens his
mouth except for an occasional
background or lead vocal.
Years ago, Raycraft and Ma
lone formed an art rock band
called Mr. Moraz that later be
came Spatz. Spatz played a hy
brid of early King Crimson,
Gentle Giant, Yes and David
Bowie styles that Raycraft called
“Megazoid Music. ” Malone says
Spatz recorded an album in
1974 that was never released.
The album, an experiment in
acoustics produced by a man
Malone refers to as a “mad sci
entist” type, was recorded out
doors in a field near Dripping
Springs. The only interest the
album generated was when a
local game warden came out to
the recording site to see if the
band was using their music to
kill animals.
When Spatz broke up in
1976, Raycraft and Malone
went their separate ways. Ray
craft joined a band with Michael
Marcoulier that played country
and reggae. Malone and his
brothers formed the Malone
Brothers Band. When both
groups broke up in 1982, Ray
craft and Malone decided to
start another band together. A
mutual friend, Barbara Do
naho, was recruited to sing,
play keyboards and occasion
ally, rhythm guitar.
Donaho, 34, would not look
out of place driving the kids to
school or doing the grocery
shopping. She would look out
of place playing keyboards for
any band except the Dishes. In
these times of superelectronic-
computerized Emulators and
Fairlights and Synclaviers, Do
naho plays a red vintage Farfisa
organ and one of those tiny Ca
sio keyboards that you find on
sale at Radio Shack for $19.95.
Donaho says she knew Ray
craft and Malone because her
brother, a member of Shake
Russell’s band, used to hang
out at the same music store
where Raycraft and Malone had
met 10 years earlier. Donaho
quit her job at an insurance of
fice and joined the band.
Then Raycraft, Malone and
Donaho began playing together
at various small clubs. Since
they had no steady drummer,
Raycraft says they sponsored
“dial-a-drummer” nights where
they asked audience members
to sit in on drums. That was un
til a waitress at one of the clubs
introduced the band to her hus
band, Pete Falcone.
Falcone, 31, looks like he
plays basketball for the Hous
ton Rockets. Actually, Falcone
plays a drum kit that is com
prised of both acoustic and
electric drums with a sky blue
bowling ball used to weigh
down the bass drum. Falcone’s
head bounces from side to side
in time with the beat in true
Ringo Starr fashion.
In Houston, Falcone earned
a living drumming for several
local bands until he saw Ray
craft, Malone and Donaho play
ing at a club one night. He says
that he knew right then that he
had found the band for him.
The four of them began play
ing together at local clubs under
the name Neato Mosquito. Ma
lone says that when he over
heard a club manager say he
had to run home and do the
dishes, he insisted the band
change their name. The new
name, which gave rise to the
phrase “Do the Dishes,” was
much more commercial, Ma
lone says.
A Dishes performance is al
most like a live version of a
Ronco album — all the greatest
hits and golden oldies. The
band will start off with Tex-Mex
classic “96 Tears, ” go into the
McCoy’s “Hang on Sloopy,”
play a couple of verses of Step-
penwolfs “Born to be Wild,”
then play some of Henry Man-
cini’s “Baby Elephant Walk,”
and end up with a rousing ver
sion of Tommy James and the
Shondell’s “Hanky Panky.”
Raycraft throws in a few bars of
the themes from “The Brady
Bunch,” “The Andy Griffith
Show” and “The Match Game”
for good measure.
The Beatles provide the