The “indie-sleaze” revival is upon us, and The Dare is its heralding knight. Harrison Patrick Smith is TikTok’s latest flash in the pan, flooding the algorithm with an in-your-face electroclash that instantaneously transports listeners to the cramped dance floor of a dark, sweaty club. On Sept. 27, he closed his first-ever headlining tour with a sold-out stop at the El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles. 

Over 700 concert-goers filled the venue, with interest levels wavering between die-hard fans and curious trend-chasers. It looked like a corral of Silverlake’s defining demographic, plucked off the streets and dropped between the velvet-lined walls of the El Rey. “Indie sleaze crackhead vibes” is how Alexis Lopez, one of the fans in attendance, chose to describe the scene. 

“People that hang out at 4100 [Bar], smoke cigarettes … it’s like a mecca for that,” Lopez said. 

Taylor Skye kicked things off with exactly the kind of DJ set you’d expect from one-half of Jockstrap. Clanging breakbeats like the duo’s “50/50” were regularly interrupted by a range of unexpected needledrops, including Spice Girls’ “Spice Up Your Life,” Kanye West’s “Runaway,” Weezer’s “Pink Triangle” and “Chanson des jumelles” from the French movie-musical “Les Demoiselles de Rochefort” (1967). A pastiche of satirical cultural references and bass-shattering electronica, it was an undeniably amusing pre-show, just esoteric enough for the night’s sensibilities.

Soon after, the lights dimmed, and an electronic hum filled the room. Stacks of synchronized stage lights flashed before the crowd as synth-driven hymns beckoned The Dare’s arrival. He waltzed on stage in the all-black suit and sunglasses combo that has become his trademark, welcomed by the roaring harmony of ecstatic screams.

Anticipation built with every deflection in the rhythm as he meddled with the knobs on his mixers. The beat slowly evolved into the familiar hammer of “Open Up,” the first track off “What’s Wrong With New York?” Something shifted in the air the moment Smith grabbed his microphone. An instant spark of energy rushed through every muscle in the room. Struck by a bolt of lightning, it was suddenly impossible to stand still. 

For the next hour, he performed his discography in its entirety, all 40 minutes from “Bloodwork” to “Good Time” intermittently broken up by an unreleased track or DJ interlude. Smith commanded the stage with a certain nonchalant swagger, reminiscent of a young Damon Albarn, except much more of a club rat. Standing on the monitors, Smith would gaze over the crowd, leaning into the mic stand as he poured every ounce of available energy into that single microphone, like the sexed-up second coming of LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy.

Thanks to Charli XCX’s “brat” summer — to which The Dare contributed the internet-breaking “Guess” — messy club culture is making a major comeback, as are fishnet tights, ironic graphic tees, skinny scarves and unnecessary fur vests. The “indie-sleaze” revival is in full force, as Charli and The Dare lead the charge wielding cigarette Excaliburs and sunglasses for armor. 

“I love the nostalgia attached to his music. It’s a very niche type of Y2K revival,” said Joshua Elizalde, a sophomore majoring in communications. “That’s such a cool thing to experience, especially for someone that was not necessarily conscious at that time.”

Gen Z is experiencing generational FOMO, turning to the past as a way to make sense of its present and future, longing for a once-simpler lifestyle defined by digital camera photography and over-accessorization. Anxiety ridden and chronically online, sometimes, today’s teens and twenty-somethings just need to dance to hedonistic, thoughtless pop. 

“He has a really infectious sound,” said Philip Clem, a newer fan in attendance. “The moment that we’re at in culture right now, everybody just really wants an escape and to have a lot of fun, and he’s definitely delivering that.”

The Dare’s sound is hard to pinpoint. It’s electropop. It’s bloghouse. It’s dance-punk, but mostly, it’s just fun. His music carries this unabashed confidence that’s impossible to shake. His attitude seeps through the speakers, spreading an inescapably contagious need to jump around and let loose. 

“I came in with no expectations. I knew very few of the lyrics, but wow, I was stunned,” said Dare first-timer Amador Lozada. “A lot of his songs definitely felt very energetic, sexual even. And you know what, that is exactly what I signed up for when I came to the show.” 

After the first few songs, it became abundantly clear that a live performance is the only way to truly understand The Dare phenomenon. His is the kind of music you need to listen to in a crowd, packed like sardines on a dingy dance floor, with just enough elbow room to really get into the rhythm. 

As much as they try, studio recordings do little justice to Smith’s ability to get a party started. That’s been his claim to fame since his days as a New York City DJ and his calling card since the exponential success of his debut single, “Girls.” The sentiment just doesn’t translate the same way coming from your phone. 

This kind of atmosphere becomes an integral aspect of the listening experience: moving bodies, the strobe of the stage lights, the ear-splitting reverberations of interfering signals bouncing between the walls. The Dare comes alive on stage, and nothing else compares.

Despite having performed his full catalog, there was one song on everyone’s mind by the end. Every soul in that room needed to hear “Girls,” and The Dare had been holding it out for the last song. The room burst out in a feverish fervor at the twang of the song’s opening bassline. For two minutes, not an arm was left unraised, no feet on the ground for longer than two seconds. 

The audience’s chants echoed The Dare’s every inflection, every raunchy one-liner, pulling him closer and closer to the crowd until he dove straight in it. He would finish the song, and his first headlining tour, dancing alongside some of its biggest fans. In his own words, “that’s what’s up.”