That the music of David Guetta do is stir thousand "buttocks" enfuselés by its rhythms, it does not wrap me more than that. Me endeavoring to optimize a minimum of openness in the specific tastes of listeners addicted to radio as NRJ (for which my very selective and intransigent ears never cram their lob styles that captivated not radically divergent), I So can eventually settle down to respect all this ... to each his respective excitations! The main crux of the problem for myself is at the heart of these same rhythms. I am extremely sensitive to the jazz ballad, country, folk, blues and even why not pop but no parallel refractory cadences running amok in dévergondant every way. Only voila, my strong feeling, rhythm without melody is like a rum baba free (although I am a thousand instead of defining myself as a chronic alcoholic!) And here, unfortunately, these melodies reveal as abruptly as singularly defeatist up flirting in a metaphorical brinkmanship. Without dispelling either a reduced audio to a significant void, with a consequent premise any semblance of emotion that I hardly guess. All this does not therefore refourgue me the urge to fidget, but rather to be tense, even having knees "seize up". So ok to eventually concede that art is a way to broadcast a certain mood, but being neither a singer nor a musician, you do not ask me to erect it on a pedestal or it has obviously nothing to do there. It's like comparing a ventriloquist to a lyrical singer ... even if I have no contempt for "speakers belly" that make me laugh very often with ease. For fans of the genre!
