The Guettavolution continues! I’m sorry…
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[3.50]
Crystal Leww: It’s not at all surprising to see that Avicii had a hand in this. His incorporation of country signifiers into EDM is the most dismaying thing to happen to EDM since Dim Mak. If we’re going to talk about the bro-ification of EDM, the need to add “real” (read: male) vocalists with “real” (read: not Auto-Tuned) voices is an important chapter of how men ruin all the fun. That Guetta is trend-chasing is also not surprising, but he was at one point one of the best at straight electrohouse. I could give a fuck less about the need to make everything authentic; I just came here to dance.
[1]
Micha Cavaseno: I don’t know if Guetta can be credited for the goofiness of this song, but I’m giving it points strictly because we KNOW this song has no use as a dance track. By this point, EDM is so caught up in the Avicii-inspired arms race of “What weird genre crossover can we pull off next!?!?” that we’re being treated to Spaghetti Western EDM with some MOR pop-rock vocalist talking about hot people in fiery love or whatever. Who cares. I’m just imagining Guetta and his eternal guffaw face finally fitting him as he unleashes something that, while pure gimmickry, is actually a really nice game being offered in a rigid playing field. Who knows, maybe someone will even figure out how to do this as a proper dance/pop record, and we’ll all be bored some more!? Never know!
[4]
Edward Okulicz: Forget the EDM-isation of radio pop, here’s another example of the preponderance of songs with absolutely no inherent dancefloor potential hoarding all EDM’s tropes as if they were its own. Ten second snatches of this are catchy in the same way a Guetta song often is but the vocal topline is boring (fittingly, the words exist in that undefinable space between “absolutely nothing” and “complete garbage”) and when it gets out of the way for bog-standard Aviciisms it’s kind of a relief. Words that describe this: meaningless, joyless, powerless, but ultimately harmless. I wouldn’t turn it off if it came on the radio, or run out of a supermarket if it was piped in, and it often is.
[5]
Anthony Easton: The acoustic guitar bit is surprisingly effective, as is some of the electronic detailing — minimal decoration, but pleasant to listen to nonetheless. As is the whistling, though it would be better if it was less robotic. When it grinds up, the whole thing falls apart, though.
[4]
Dan MacRae: “Lovers on the Sun” sounds a bit like it’s been teleported from a world where that second Killers album was “a thing.” I can’t help but feel like it’s incomplete. Like, you get your standard build-up and POW! dynamic, but it’s nothing that grabs ahold of you. Instead, we’re stuck with this watery “western inspired” dance track (WHICH DOESN’T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO BE THE NEW “COTTON EYED JOE”) that’ll likely be coming to a Kia TV spot near you.
[4]
Alfred Soto: With his naff lines about burning eyes and cold nights, his basso timbre, and emotional strain, Sam Martin idolized Brandon Flowers last decade. Then the Guettatized backing track shifts from 2004 to 2008. The strings do their best to keep things tense.
[2]
Thomas Inskeep: When did David Guetta go from making dirty house tracks to faux-surf-guitar-laden Europop bullshit? I know, I know, it’s been a gradual de-evolution, but still. The spaghetti-western whistle particularly rankles.
[2]
Will Adams: Guetta’s mixing is still wonky, the trend-chasing is so obvious I can almost hear gears turning in the track, and the disjointed nature, with black holes of silence separating the chorus and verse, is plain lazy. But sounding anonymous is better than sounding shit, so “Lovers On the Sun” could ostensibly be buried in a three-hour house mix, and few would notice.
[4]
Scott Mildenhall: The good, the bad and the drudgery of the David Guetta discography all hinted at in one. All of the bafflingly straight-faced spaghetti western bits are a complete waste of time; thankfully spaghetti is only straight until you heat it up. Knowingness is never clear with Guetta though, and even if he was going for bathos, between banging and boring there is still plenty boring. Drop this David, and bring back Chris Willis.
[5]
Katherine St Asaph: One-third of this is high kitsch, something that could seethe off a palpitating movie scene with the right imagination. One-third is the lyricist scuppering that by showing none. The last third is David Guetta.
[4]