SEVEN #3: seven songs in 7/4 (or 7/8) time

A galloping "thump" reminiscent of sneakers in the dryer

As much as I’d like to begin today’s column by informing you of my undeniable musical pedigree, I regret to inform you that I am merely a lowly drummer. I exist in the uncanny valley between the categories of “musician” and “court jester”, characterized by my ability to raise hell and blast open eardrums in lieu of meaningful melodic impressions. However, much like my penchant for self-deprecating humor, my percussive background often serves as a means of communicating salient or beautiful things via another dialect. The older I grow, the more convinced I become that rhythm is the universal human language, a communal pulse that ties all 8 billion of us together as we eat, sleep, work, bone, and watch 72-hour marathons of MTV’s Ridiculousness. While the steady heartbeat of a classic common time groove is what most easily gets a group of butts together to move in unison, those with ears to hear may find themselves compelled by its overeager relative, the inimitable stutter-step groove of a septuple meter. Here are SEVEN unforgettable examples of SEVEN-beat spectacles in song.

Karnivool - “Umbra”

from Sound Awake (2009)

Aussie prog legends Karnivool saunter their way onto the list by virtue of their long-awaited fourth album, In Verses, dropping next Friday (be on the lookout for my review right here on Gatekeep). Coffee connoisseur and certified badass Steve Judd delivers a head-spinning take on a SEVEN rhythm during this track’s iconic opening riff, splitting each larger pulse into frantic subdivisions that skitter like water evaporating off a cast iron skillet. His metric wizardry is deftly accompanied by Jon Stockman’s dreamy bass melody wandering around the higher regions of the neck, culminating in the group’s dual guitar attack entering stage left with thunderous force. Regrettably, the track lapses into a 6/8 groove soon after this, even briefly playing with groups of 10, before recapitulating its most memorable section and SEVENing its way off stage in a blaze of numeric glory. It’s hard to believe it’s been thirteen years since Karnivool’s last release; if they had waited one more year, the time gap would have been divisible by SEVEN. Life can be cruel like that sometimes.

Rush - “Natural Science”

from Permanent Waves (1980)

Today’s installment of SEVEN is brought to you by another of Gatekeep’s most enthralling blog series, Kerry Renshaw’s PERMANENT WAVES (they post a new edition every Wednesday, go give it a whirl). Naturally, that series’ namesake was a shoo-in for this entry, as Rush’s Permanent Waves is a rhythmic masterpiece that made me realize I wanted to be a drummer, all the way back in 2011, while I was listening to it poolside at Universal Studios. “Natural Science” is the album’s three-part, nine-minute (non-SEVEN numbers, ew) closing masterstroke, and it begins innocently enough with some common-time clownery that features absolutely zero stick-fueled bludgeoning. Barely even music, I know. However, shortly after about two minutes of opening movement “Tide Pools” have elapsed, the listener is quite literally whisked away from this boring hell planet by musical aliens. This advanced race of extraterrestrials knows that the listener has tired of the same old metric shenanigans, and catapults them into “Hyperspace”, home of the SEVEN solar system. This stank face-inducing section differs from “Umbra” primarily because of how overtly Rush lean into the jagged edges of the septuple rhythm, pounding down on each accent and prioritizing ferocity over sophistication; that is, until Neil Peart (RIP) whips out some of his trademark “over the bar line” fuckery. Would you expect any less from an advanced musical lifeform?

Great Grandpa - “Doom”

from Patience, Moonbeam (2025)

Violent screen, petty, demure, as it rolled through the morning
All eyes feather downward
Anxious, weaned, off of the box, just said it's not your thing
All minds slurring inward

“Doom” is the newest release to be included on today’s SEVEN, but its inclusion is not merely a result of the recency effect. The Seattle indie quintet earn their keep here because of this track’s clever thematic link between its rhythm and its lyricism. “Doom”’s brand of SEVEN is predicated on its musicians’ intentional presentation of it as an incomplete eight, a puzzle one piece away from resolution, a heart missing a beat. Its lyrics are similarly anxious, telling of previously straight lines bending out of control, and dizzying spirals where the end remains invisible to the naked eye. If all of that weren’t numerical enough for you, this is also the SEVENTH song on Patience, Moonbeam’s tracklist. Destiny.

Quakers - “Russia With Love (ft. Coin Locker Kid)”

from Quakers (2012)

I challenged myself to find a hip-hop song in SEVEN, and I’m proud to say I lived up to the task. Do I like it? Is it good? Not important! But seriously, if you guys know of any hip-hop bangers in my beloved septuple meter, please let me know with a quickness.

State Faults - “Blood Moon”

from Children of the Moon (2024)

“Blood Moon” is another textbook example of the brilliance that can stem from using rhythm to convey emotion in music. Where “Doom” utilizes SEVEN to illustrate a gnawing anxiety, “Blood Moon” storms out of the gate with a septuple stomp that communicates nothing less than outright cosmic desperation. Jonny Andrew’s decision to coordinate his howling vocals in lockstep with the band’s precise rhythmic attack serves to further accentuate his cataclysmic cries of “I can’t find my happiness”. It’s so effective that the song stumbles juuuuust a tiny bit by reverting back into common time to build toward an admittedly high-octane half time breakdown. Thankfully, “Blood Moon” continues to echo the brilliant songwriting choices of our other selections by ripping a page out of “Umbra”’s playbook and returning to its SEVEN groove, for the sole purpose of ratcheting the intensity up to a solid SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN.

King Crimson - “Frame By Frame”

from Discipline (1981)

I heard all SEVEN of you reading this like polymeters. If that’s the case, then just like a parolee passing a piss test, urine luck! ”Frame By Frame” was written by Robert Fripp at a time when his obsession with the rhythmic concept of “phasing” was at an all-time high, as can be observed in the dueling guitar leads of this track’s SEVEN-spangled verses. Returning to our earlier characterization of SEVEN as an incomplete eight, Fripp creatively layers a stuttering characterization of six as an incomplete SEVEN over his original riff to craft one of the most intriguing numbers of his musical career. It’s a trick he uses all throughout the seminal Discipline, but it’s most salient when SEVEN is involved.

American Football - “Stay Home”

from American Football (1999)

A track near and dear to my Illinois emo boy heart, “Stay Home” combines all of the crucial SEVEN concepts we’ve discussed so far and rolls them into an unforgettable, indestructible tortilla of rhythmic prowess. Drummer Steve Lamos spends the intro section’s stirring crescendo intentionally blurring the lines between SEVEN and common time with his polymetric snare hits, while Mike Kinsella and Steve Holmes phase their melodies in and out of one another like Robert Patrick squishing himself through prison gates. The track’s barebones lyrical narrative ties flawlessly into its rhythmic origins despite its simplicity, with the dynamics of the instrumental also doing some heavy lifting by gradually fading back into obscurity, signaling the inevitable loss of a piece of oneself, a SEVEN in need of a final pulse. SEVEN is not just a rhythmic party trick; SEVEN is songwriting, and “Stay Home” understands this on the deepest of levels.

That about it wraps it up for this week’s installment of SEVEN - we’ll see you again on Friday the……6th of February? This can’t be right. Call your representatives. We will not stand for this insult.