Some people have a favourite pizza. I have a favourite tension, and it is the #11. If chords were coffee, the #11 is the extra shot of espresso that makes everything shimmer and also makes you slightly unable to sit still. I add it to things that absolutely did not ask for it. Plain major chord? Now it's floating. Nice cosy progression? Congratulations, it's dreaming now.
This little clip is exactly that impulse caught on camera: an original idea spun out of Em, G, A, C and D chords, where I keep sneaking a sharp 11 into the top of the voicings. It's a short chordal exploration — no shredding, no drama — just me demonstrating how one lush, slightly dissonant color tone can turn five ordinary chords into something that sounds like the opening credits of a very tasteful film.
How the #11 tension actually works
The #11 is the raised fourth of the scale — the note that turns an ordinary major sound into Lydian, bright and hovering. On a major chord it sits a whole step above the 3rd, so unlike a plain natural 11 (which grinds against the 3rd and demands you resolve it) the #11 just glows. That's the whole magic: it's dissonant enough to be interesting, consonant enough to leave hanging there forever. The one banana skin to avoid is stacking a #11 right next to the chord's own 5th — they're a half step apart and that clash is not the fun kind.
The practical takeaway from this clip: don't reharmonise everything, just lift the top voice. Take your Em, G, A, C or D shape, keep the low notes doing their honest job, and let the highest string carry the #11 as a color tone. Suddenly your progression has that floating, filmic quality without you learning a single new chord grip. If you want to know how these fancy names actually decode, my chord names guide untangles the whole alphabet soup.
Fair warning: once you start hearing the #11 everywhere, there is no cure, only Patreon — where I post the Guitar Pro tabs and the original videos for people who share my very specific affliction: Patreon.