[vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1513967832832{padding-top: 65px !important;}”][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_single_image image=”41″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/2″][vc_column_text]<\/p>\n
[\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]Five years ago, if someone had told you that American hip hop and RnB would be riddled with thumping mid-90s Eurocheese in the not-too-distant future, it\u2019s fairly likely you\u2019d have assumed them a tad misguided. Yet here we are, with dance and urban charts largely interchangeable, and the man responsible \u2013 in some considerable part, at least \u2013 is\u00a0David Guetta<\/a>, who continues his evolution from DJ to headline artist via his fifth album, Nothing but the Beat.[\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]But the peculiar fusion of genres is, somehow, no longer that peculiar. With Nothing but the Beat\u2019s arrival already heralded by the triumphant meeting of\u00a0Flo Rida<\/a>\u2019s booming rhymes and the zesty, madcap stutter of\u00a0Nicki Minaj<\/a>\u00a0on Where Them Girls At, Guetta\u2019s production wizardry has amassed some gravitas.[\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]