“What’s Wrong With New York?” The Dare Album Review

“It’s just rock-and-roll, you won’t die,” sings The Dare as he opens up his debut album, “What’s Wrong With New York?” with the aptly-named track, “Open Up”. The line is blunt yet welcoming – he invites the listener to leave their inhibitions at the door and embrace the blare of youthful hedonism ahead. “Open Up” sets the mood for the record: anthemic, sarcastic, carefree, and childishly crass.

The Dare, whose real name is Harrison Patrick Smith, is an enigmatic figure. He struts through NYC’s hipster-y “Dimes Square” neighborhood in his signature get-up: a suit and sunglasses. His image is well-defined, the juxtaposition between his deceptively buttoned-up exterior and brash, unapologetic character is a key element of his charm. Previously, he performed under the name “Turtlenecked” in Portland – “The Dare” is a shiny new persona who’s been catapulted to fame with “Girls,” his album’s most viral single, and “Guess” by Charli XCX, which he produced.

The Dare’s style notably parallels that of LCD Soundsystem, an influential electronic music group, and their lead singer, James Murphy. Just like Murphy, his music is a heady blend of punchy delivery and sardonic wit. Unlike Murphy, though, he’s criticized for his lack of depth. In “What’s Wrong With New York,” Smith seeks to dispel this notion with his approximations of ballads, “Elevation” and “You Can Never Go Home,” with debatable success.

After “Open Up,” an energetic intro to Smith’s self-indulgent philosophy, he keeps up the mood. “Good Time,” another undeniably catchy tune, gives us a distinct contrast between Smith’s loud, unrestrained spirit in the verses and a super-chill, monotone voice in the chorus. This variance gives the track a nice bit of texture, which we see again in “Perfume,” a wacky tune about the Dare’s favorite fictitious $5.99 French fragrance. Then, we get to the album’s biggest hit. “Girls” is the Dare’s intensely horny profession of love for all kinds of girls. Despite being laser-focused on sex, “Girls” manages to come off as inclusive and appreciative rather than perverted and objectifying, which is a true triumph in my eyes.

“I Destroyed Disco” is a probable reference to one of Smith’s influences, Calvin Harris, and his album, “I Created Disco”. It’s braggadocio caked in irony as he claims to “kick the whole world in the teeth/with [his] untied laces” and asks “what’s a blogger to a rocker/what’s a rocker to The Dare?”.

Somehow, after listening to track after track of the same gimmicky delivery and the same “who-cares” message, I remained unexhausted because of how much sheer fun I was having. Even the next track, “You’re Invited,” injected with the very same party-animal glitz, had such a banging dance break that I couldn’t complain.

“All Night” falls a little flat musically, existing within a rather boring purgatory between trying to maintain catchiness and an odd, hollow attempt at sentimentality for a song that is so clearly about partying, with lyrics like “ I want more than fame, hope you feel the same” and “If you’re feeling scared, know they’re only tears”. It’s certainly listenable, but serves as a somewhat awkward transition to Smith’s first ballad, “Elevation,” which I think is more effective as a cool-down from the stampede of upbeat clubbing music that precedes it than it is as a genuinely thought-provoking or emotional song.

We then return to the club with “Movement,” which I think is the album’s weakest track. It’s more artlessly noisy than it is danceable, and is devoid of the zingy lyricism that the rest of the album is jam-packed with (I mean, seriously, every other line on this album reads like a viral tweet).

And finally, we’ve reached the last track: “You Can Never Go Home”. It’s another quasi-ballad, but it still has a nice, kicky drum beat that comes in around the middle. The lyrics, like in “Elevation,” are pretty uninspired, lacking the luster (and plain lust, in such a raunchy album) of previous tracks while failing to dig deep enough for any emotional value. However, despite its lyrics, it’s still a solid song with the perfect tone for closing out an album as wild as “What’s Wrong With New York?”. Its quiet giddiness reminded me of going home after a long, exciting day. Like returning home from a party or a trip to the city, “You Can Never Go Home” is infused with a mellowed-out yet lingering thrill that reflects its title—you can leave a party, but in spirit, you can never fully return home—and the album gives me that same lasting buzz.

“What’s Wrong With New York” is cheap perfume and cigarettes. It’s messy and dirty and obnoxious, but that’s what makes it so awesome. Although it’s a little derivative and one-note, most tracks are fun listens that’ll have you breaking out in full-body spasmodic dance or, at the very least, tapping your foot and bobbing your head. The Dare’s debut is, to me, a charmingly enthusiastic revival of early 2000’s dance-punk that, despite a couple weak-ish tracks, is worth a listen or two. Or, like, a million.

4.5/5 stars