Week 583: “713” by James Francies

For me, summer isn’t summer without at least one really good thunderstorm.

The best storm is one that can be seen approaching from far away: across a lake or from a balcony or from across a field. A storm pushed in on a breeze that suddenly dies to an eerie silence just before the sky opens. A storm whose rumbles can be heard long before the rain begins to fall. Whose clouds flow hypnotically like a turbulent river in slow motion.

There should be a word for the kind of uneasy beauty that thunderstorms have. We used to have words that would fit – “terrific” used to mean “inspiring terror” and “awesome” used to mean “worthy of awe” – but those words have become watered-down over time and don’t seem to fit any more. Maybe the Germans have one; schadenfreude, but for ominous weather.

We may not have a suitable word for ominous beauty, but thanks to pianist and composer James Francies we have the audio equivalent in his new track “713.” Apart from having the perfect title (seven and thirteen being numbers that often connote luck and bad luck respectively) there is a lot going on in this song that might bring to mind the sight of dark clouds rolling in on a hot summer horizon.

What makes this a beautiful song:

1. The chord changes during the first minute are almost conventionally pretty, but as it progresses, weird intervals and unexpected chord patterns build the tension without ever really releasing it.

2. Beginning in the second minute, the time signature loses its anchor in places, with half-bars lost or added jarring the listener while not losing momentum.

3. The recurring five-note melody, sung in a ghostly “ahh,” has a distinctly close encounters ring to it, implying something uncomfortably almost human.

Recommended listening activity:

Looking over your shoulder.

Buy it here.