The energy of New York City nightlife is hard to evoke through storytelling. It’s impossible to emulate the distinct feeling of speaking to a stranger at a party or the recollection of jumping in a crowd to heavy bass, the moments where a venue’s floorboards feel like they’re rising to meet the soles of your shoes. The art of going out is one that most any young adult living in the city refines over their years in the urban biosphere, pursuing those distinct moments that you get to say “you just had to be there.” But Harrison Patrick Smith — better known as The Dare — manages to wrangle some of the best parts of those late nights into a streamlined, 27- minute album that can and should precede your future midnight memories.
On Sept. 6, Smith released his debut album “What’s Wrong with New York?” following a recent rise in traction with a larger fanbase. His electroclash-like sound and perpetual donning of a three-piece suit began to garner reasonable intrigue after producing the cheeky anthem “Guess” on Charli XCX’s extended version of her album, “BRAT.” The summer limelight has catapulted him from cult-classic DJ to, for some, the second coming of indie sleaze. The album fleshes out Smith’s enigmatic, party-savvy persona, oozing confidence through its brash and often hilarious bring-the-house-down anthems.
The Dare plays the part of your extroverted, cooler-than-thou friend in the album’s first song, “Open Up,” coaxing listeners from the comfort of home into the New York night: “You can’t spend your whole life inside.” To the tune of lilting synths and a crisp guitar accompaniment, Smith promises a good time, but his own gritty, breathy call to action is knowing: “I know it might be hard to swallow / But it’s much, much better once you get a taste.” Its rolling tempo feels like a rush of adrenaline, and listeners are welcomed to “invite anyone, that’s for sure.”
“You’re Invited” communicates a similar level of welcoming nonchalance, repeating its title like a mantra against a level, mechanical track. Smith is liberally inclusive, claiming that “You and your people / You just make me bored,” and yet “You’re still invited.” It’s a funny choice of rhetoric to describe a nightlife scene that, at its most elite levels, will typically only engulf you if you have something to offer in return. The Dare has traversed multiple levels of this hierarchy: Regular “Freakquencies” DJ sets he previously hosted at Lower East Side dive bar Home Sweet Home have since been replaced by happenings like a Boiler Room set aside Charli XCX in Ibiza and his first headlining tour, which began at Webster Hall on Sept. 5. He pokes fun at the idea of this exclusivity in “Good Time,” jeering that “I’m in the club whilе you’re online / Hope my set sounds good outside.”
The album embraces barriers as a matter of inhibition rather than exclusivity. “What’s Wrong With New York?” can be seen, from this lens, as less of a critique and more of a rhetorical question born from a fondness for the city. Smith shifts this enthusiasm into full throttle with “All Night,” an homage to the decision to power through when it’s getting late and your friend says they know a spot. Its catchy, rhythmic chorus and dynamic instrumentals emulate the feeling of outrunning fatigue when you want a night to last forever.
“I Destroyed Disco” best highlights Smith’s prowess in production, progressively mutilating the song’s beats through static and modulation. Smith gloats: “Punk rock to disco / Missiles / Blowin’ up the motherfucking club / From Nеw York to San Francisco.” Electroclash, dance-pop, punk or otherwise, the track is one of the album’s strongest forces and seems to revel in the idea that Smith’s music cannot be so easily classified.
The album’s glue is arguably the silly, sleazy “Girls,” which was initially released and found virality as a 2022 single. Through several bassy stanzas, Smith establishes that his type is everyone, anyone and anything — tall girls, mean girls, even “the hole in the wall / The guy before made.” Smith’s lewd refrains are tongue twisters set to a metronomic beat. It’s addictive, ridiculous and rejects the idea of subtle innuendo. For Smith, pretentiousness is a virus, and he inoculates his fans from it through cheeky TikTok promotion and his raunchy lyricism.
Smith’s arsenal of tunes, while all similar in debaucherous theme, collectively further the idea that he’s a socialite who’s seen it all. By using over-the-top imagery to describe and satirize its reality through a scrappy, optimistic tone, Smith kicks the door open to the New York party scene as seen through his signature blackout sunglasses.
Contact Eleanor Jacobs at [email protected].
