The road trip kicks off tomorrow, and my packing has been delayed by a much more critical matter: putting together a road trip playlist. I’m calling it Cold Interstate, and I have to say, it’s stellar: nine hours of coldwoven synthetic tracks for the motorway, including Suicide, Cybotron, Tropic of Cancer, The Normal, Sisters of Mercy, Thomas Brinkmann, Plastikman, some Liquid Swords instrumentals, Chris & Cosey, Ectomorph, Tuxedomoon, an Ectomorph remix of Tuxedomoon, and four remixes of Shari Vari.

Cobbling this mix together has me in a metro Detroit state of mind and, more specifically, an Electrifying Mojo state of mind. Our screens advertise better connectivity, but they can’t hold a candle to the communion of thousands of radios across the city tuned to the same station on a Saturday night while a voice tells everyone to flash their headlights and porchlights. I recently came across this reflection on Mojo’s legacy: “Mojo flew into Detroit every night on a spaceship,” writes Nkrumah Steward. “As his ship descended, he would say, ‘Hello Detroit,’ then he would gradually get more specific, ‘I see Pam over at Belle Isle, hello Pam,’ or he would comment on how he could see the planes coming in at Metro Airport or maybe a traffic jam down on I-94. It was so fucking cool you just have no idea.”

I’m feeling sentimental tonight like it’s 1995 and I’m smoking clove cigarettes while speeding down I-75 to the Packard plant or Saint Andrews Hall. It’s a pleasant sensation, this tension between nostalgia in the rearview and motoring into the future for a possible new life in the desert.

Here’s a cold highway classic from ’94 that begins with two minutes of vapor before giving way to a glossy machine that builds and rebuilds while neon drips across the hood. This was the first Plastikman record I bought, so it holds a special place in my heart. Like Dean Martin or Jefferson Airplane for another generation, these are my oldies.