I realise it’s not particularly original or controversial to slag off David Guetta.
Much like George Bush during his second term it’s not even challenging any more, such is the extent of his fuck-wittery.
As much as it pained me to do so, long ago I had conceded defeat to the PR juggernaut that is brand Guetta, there’s just no point trying to argue with/deny his popularity, or that of his trancier peers like four time DJ Mag Top 100 winner Armin van Bawbag (but that’s a whole other rant).
The only viable option when faced with with a foe with the size and power of Guetta and the mainstream majority is to pick your battles wisely. So when I found myself sitting next to the dance floor over the course of an otherwise uneventful night at the Walkabout (this was before I got punched in the eye by an angry South African man) I chanced upon some concrete evidence in the fight against the Guetta machine.
As the masterful resident DJ attempted to up the tempo as the night wore on, he unwittingly exposed an almighty flaw in David’s recent midas production spree. I’m probably not the first person to notice this, but in tending to avoid the radio and the charts in the last few years, the similarities in several of his song’s had previously passed me by. The tracks in question are as follows:
Both of which quite clearly share the same central riff – and to be fair pretty similar generic basslines and beats – as I looked around my fellow revellers in astonishment at the sheer audacity of the man there didn’t seem to be anyone else sharing my disbelief, but I felt compelled to note down this glaring error for future reference.
Of course I don’t expect this paltry post to rock him to his rotten core, but I can only hope that I can share this shocking abuse of dance music with a few more people, who can in turn share it with a few more, and so on. I don’t think much more needs to be said, the very fact that he has got away with such a blatant lack of imagination says more about his character and the state of the scene than I ever could.
To be fair to the floppy haired Frenchman, I get the feeling that the true culprit may well be his reportedly megalomaniac wife anyway…
But I won’t pursue this vendetta any further, as the only real evidence I have to back my suspicion up is the fact that in every clip I’ve ever seen of the pair, David always looks like the unwitting pawn in Cathy’s Machiavellian plot to take over pop music and infect a generation of listeners with a terrible impression of modern dance music.
But let his be a completely insignificant warning. I’m watching you Guetta’s…