The night that The Dare plays London stalwart Electric Ballroom in Camden, it is absolutely freezing. My fingers are numb as I run for the tube; my tiny skirt may well have been a mistake. But what else for The Dare (or Harrison Patrick Smith, to his Mum), the scene’s latest indie sleaze darling? Dragged up by a cult-following from the basement club nights of New York’s late-noughties scene, frontman-turned-DJ-turned-all-round-vibe-curator Smith is hitting some heady heights (like producing a Charli XCX/Billie Eilish collab).
The second he roars onto stage, sound-systems straining, the room is alive with energy and heat and all outfit choices are vindicated. The album opener ‘Open Up’ kicks the show into gear like a bass-laden hysteria spell: “It’s just rock and roll / you won’t die / you can’t spend your whole life inside.” It’s a great mission statement, and it rings true. The first 30 minutes of the set are a high-velocity ride through the hits – “Open up your eyes, open up your arms, open your legs and try me,” an adoring crowd scream back, and all beyond the sticky dancefloor is forgotten.
His debut LP ‘What’s Wrong With New York?’ comes off the back, in part, of an organically grown fanbase from his Freakquencies club nights in New York, and in part off the online success of the grungey, sexy track ‘Girls’ earlier this year.
For those more accustomed to seeing The Dare nodding nonchalantly behind the decks, it’s curious to see him let loose. He’s much more of a Britpop enfant terrible: swaying and pitching around, smoking a cigarette from the floor, mumbling indiscernibly between songs, etc. But it’s not only his nostalgic on-stage affect that his audience loves.
The vehicle of The Dare runs on the joy of the party, lost to us for two years not so long ago. “I’m at the club while you’re online,” is a line that makes the crowd screech with glee. The irony-drenched persona – suit and tie, dark glasses, supercharged with coursing electronic beats and some gaudy world-building (“Let’s make a baby, in the Mercedes!”) is, undeniably, hot.
Stacks of bright white lights blare out at the audience, meaning Smith is always backlit in the haze. He flits around the small stage like a shadow, retreating into a dark red cavern during ‘Bloodwork’, microphone slung over his shoulder. Even when he’s bashing a hi-hat up on the front speakers during ‘You’re Invited’, you can’t really make him out – it’s like the dark glasses all over again.
Smith certainly has range – the slower, vocals-led ‘Elevation’ is a highlight, a darker and more raw moment that pulls back the curtain to the ennui that gives depth to the album. It’s a little haunting; an excellent little pitch into the depths. He brings the room soaring back up with the electro-clash of ‘Girls’, then vanishes into the dark.
It’s an incredibly tight set, done and dusted before we can even get two pints down. Spat out prematurely into the Camden night, I try to make sense of the show – it’s definitely good, it’s definitely different, it’s definitely an experience. Although what exactly that experience is, or why it feels a bit… well, hollow, is trickier to define.
It may be that the persona of The Dare, ultimately an exercise in fantasy, is not quite strong enough to hold up under the realism of London nightlife – where there’s a lot of people holding their jackets and when the gig is over, the smoking area is already closed. Are we sure we still know how to party? And what do we cold Londoners really know of the ‘All Night’ hook “LA to New York, New York to LA”? What was so good about British indie sleaze was that it came from a place of struggle – The Dare is perhaps a little too pastiche, glossy and well marketed for that to strike the right note here.
Or perhaps it’s that Smith’s meticulous production is sort of lost in the din of this live show. Some tracks are amped up and techno-infused, but the full potential of this gig-cum-clubnight doesn’t feel fully explored. Then again, this sold-out date comes at the very beginning of a European & US tour, so maybe this horny little freak is only warming up…
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