Nothing But The Beat
David Guetta deserves some major props. Since his breakthrough smash ‘When Love Takes Over’ with Kelly Rowland back in 2009, he’s been responsible for more hits than Kim Kardashian has Twitter followers. Guetta is responsible for Black Eyed Peas’ ‘I Gotta Feeling’ and ‘Boom Boom Pow’, Kelis’s ‘Acappella’, ‘Memories’ featuring Kid Cudi, and Flo Rida’s ‘Club Can’t Handle Me’. Leona Lewis and Usher are hoping his magic dust will serve them in good stead for releases in the very near future. And it probably will. His formula – relentless, tinny synth stabs, Auto-Tune-assisted vocals, a muted pre-chorus before a euphoric beat-blasted dance-gasm – has been endlessly emulated.
The first disc (yeah, it’s a double header) is a star-studded affair, a who’s who of mainstream music: Will.i.am, Lil Wayne, Jessie J, Ludacris, Snoop, Nicki Minaj, among others. In a clever case of musical mirroring, Guetta repeatedly phases a zinging siren between the speakers.
At least on the flipside Guetta’s instrumental endeavours are less grating. ‘The Alphabet’ is a shimmering slab of disco-house that recalls Daft Punk, while his collaborations with Dutch producer Afrojack are endearingly overstuffed.
According to Dave himself, he was influenced by Kings Of Leon and Coldplay, but you’d be hard pressed to trace the lineage here. His production is brittle, sheeny and designed to be consumed among a crowd of those off their face, one hand clutching a £10 bottle of water, the other fist-pumping till dawn. So, yes, this is going to sell by the trillion.