Code six-pack

The musical accompaniment to my trip to Dudley today is the soundtrack to Interstate 76. Forget all of those Jeremy Clarkson "Now That's What I Call The Best Driving Album in the Entire History of the World Ever!! Volume 47" cds that you find in motorway service station bargain bins alongside the string backed leather driving gloves and travel sweets in a little tin with icing sugar. This is the business.

Interstate 76 was a vastly underrated car combat game set in an alternate reality Texas of the mid 70s where the oil crisis was just a little bit worse and tipped the US into near anarchy. Auto vigilantes took to the back roads of the badlands in souped up muscle cars armed to the teeth with 50 cal machine guns, missile launchers and flame throwers to protect the dwindling oil supply. The hero of the piece is the ultimate 70s medallion man Groove Champion who inherits his sister Jade's car when she is murdered
by a sharp suited assassin. The world weary Groove falls in with Jade's partner smooth talking partner Taurus (clearly modelled on Shaft) and a psychotic hillbilly mechanic Skeeter to track down the killers.

It is a fantastically compelling game, but the best thing about it is the music, with every wah-wah peddle, bass riff and horn blast of the best 70s funk. The soundtrack takes the music and adds cb radio chatter, tyres squealing, engines revving and bullets flying to the mix.

So, today I've been hunting creepers on the radar and calling in a code six-pack .... remember - *never* get out of the car ...