Strobe lights and stacks of Marshalls: how The Dare guarantees a “good time” with his live show
It’s a Friday night, and YES Basement is pitch black. The room is packed with wide-eyed kids patiently awaiting the arrival of their suited and sunglassed electroclash idol. He’s set to arrive at 8:30pm, but he’s suitably late. I’ve grabbed two sickly cocktails from the bar in preparation, which I fear might not be strong enough to give me the buzz I’m after, so I down one in the time we’re waiting. The second, along with my worries, is lost the second The Dare takes to the stage.
“It’s just rock and roll, you won’t die,” he declares, “You can’t spend your whole life inside.” It’s an unreleased track, but the crowd is instantly spurred into action, hanging onto his every word as tightly as he hangs onto the mic stand. As he launches into ‘Good Time’ and follows it with ‘Sex’, I can’t help but marvel at the setlist choice. To place two of your four unreleased songs side by side is a bold move, but The Dare knows what he’s doing.
Somehow, he gets away with concentrating the hits into the first half of his set, the energy and excitement they spawned spilling into each new pulsating track. The room alternates between complete darkness and bright white light, with strobes quicker and more intense than I’ve ever been subjected to before. The energy is unwavering until he ends the set with crowd-pleaser ‘Girls’, shrugging it off with the words, “You might actually know it, so I appreciate it if you’d sing along…”
No one misses a word, and the lights come up far too soon. I look down and find my cocktail spilt down my white tee. Best 15 pounds I’ve ever spent. But what makes The Dare’s live show so guaranteed to live up to the name of his second biggest hit?
Between DJ sets in New York suburbs and suit fittings with luxury brands, Harrison Patrick Smith seems to have created a character akin to LCD Soundsystem frontman James Murphy minus all the self-deprecation. In a three-piece suit and black-out shades, he’s cool and confident, infectious with indie sleaze as he works the crowd. Sometimes, he’s kitted out with three-by-four stacks of Marshalls that don’t even seem to be plugged in, but they all add to the character.
As he swings the microphone-stand around with ease and jumps into the crowd to double-check you’re having a good time, it’s impossible not to. He walks the line between being completely unapproachable, rarely allowing you a glimpse at his eyes in favour of near-permanent shades, but there’s also a feeling that he just might attend afters at yours following the show if you play it cool.
There’s the intrinsic fun of his sound, too. Though most of the audience at each show will know just four songs in his set – or might have booked a ticket on a whim after hearing the songwriting genius of ‘Girls’ – each track is as silly and synthy as the next, each lyric sleazy enough to match. The set is just filled to the brim with fun.
Between sleazy tales of sex and girls, excessive strobes and sunglasses, and stacks of Marshalls, The Dare guarantees a good time.
