Gil Scott Heron (1977) We almost Lost Detroit - LOST70sGEMS

 Supposedly based on an incident where a local power station almost blew up half of Detroit, it is also named after a 1975 book on the same subject, it features ghostly echoed synthesizers mimicking the lead vocal with a cool, subtle spookiness that embodied most of Scott-Heron's work. His literary voice, crisply detailing some prose, very visual and tangible and earnest to the core. His melancholy always just slipping underneath the surface of every line, while he is backed by TONTO's Expanding Head Band; a duo whose multi analogue synthesizer setup was a go to for many soul artists of the mid 70s era providing unique textures for each note like an orchestra over the usual synth combo and effects patches. A stunning plea from the wrecks of a once mighty juggernaut of a city. The cold urban landscape captures in the meandering pools of Synthesizer pads and markedly captures the desolate car graveyards of Detroit, where the American Dream died. Laying on a bed of fading blues licks and muted keyboard flutters, the tone of desperation is similar to Marvin Gaye's What's Going On but is accentuated by Herons citified growl; so gentle yet unspeakably ominous and drenched in foreboding, like he is almost resigned to his fate. It reminds me of the quieter, comedown spaced out numbers of Sly Stone but arguably with more socio potency.

The Dramatics (1971) In the Rain - LOST70sGEMS

 Starting with some corny cracks of thunder from an effects library and some overused wind wailing, we get an incredible jolt as a heavily tremolo guitar rings out while a synth zaps a laser bolt like note. The enchanting flute, soothing strings and earthy vocals all combine with the guitar basic tracks to create a very evocative, humid atmosphere; it isn't helped by the corny rain sounds that keep returning. However nothing can take the shine off Wah Wah Watson's guitar work, the rattlesnake torqueage, the clangy, ramshackle chords echoing out in lopsided fashion. The dragged tremble chords act like sploshing puddles as they ripple with every disturbance of its surface while the darting Synthesizer ping; like an beaming ray gun discharge that fires off deep into the dark recesses like a shot to the heart, a zing to a string or even a massive rain drop slipping off a ledge into endless oblivion.