I was born in Detroit, almost exactly when MC5’s Kick Out the Jams peaked in the charts, reminding the world (via John Lee Hooker) that the motor city was, in fact, burning. My family got the fear memo and jumped on the white flight express to a small swampy town just northeast of Detroit. It was about 45 minute drive (as my dad still worked downtown as an electrician), but felt like 1000 miles away in terms of backwater racist attitudes and the barrier of Lake St. Clair.

Notably, however, where I grew up was only 30 miles from Detroit, as the crow – or, more importantly for the topic at hand, as the electromagnetic spectrum – flies. As such, not just the lights of Detroit made their way across the lake, but so did the radio stations. This is my personal story of one DJ in particular, really more as an excuse to introduce him to the uninitiated, than explain his effect on me. I am not the only person to have written about this DJ and his influence – not by far. On the back cover is information about finding more material, including many recordings of his shows that fans have transferred to YouTube from cassettes they have held on to for decades. Please have a listen.

In my memories of middle school and high school, The Electrifying Mojo came on every night, late, and was just a part of the fabric of existence. You weren’t told about his show or directed to it. It was just always there. There were no photos of him or public appearances, yet everyone knew him. Maybe you stumbled on his show or heard it in the background somewhere and got sucked in. I mostly remember listening while driving around. It seemed like I did a lot of driving around Detroit and its suburbs, apparently at night. But you also listened at home. Maybe from the clock radio past bedtime. I remember running out through the house to flash the porch lights a few times. I don’t think it took much to get pulled in – the trademark start of his show with the mothership landing and movie theme music blasting and his voice walking you through the whole thing – usually sold people on first listen.

Most people who talk about Mojo understandably talk about the music he played. It was a mix of every kind of funk, soul, pop, imports, dance music, and many things beyond. It was one of the few places at the time were listeners were exposed to the likes of Kraftwerk and B-52s, mixed right in with Prince, motown, Parliament-Funkadelic. Soon, he was also exposing us to the exciting music being created by some of his own listeners, such as the famous Bellevelle Three. I remember the first time I heard Clear by Cybotron on his show and tried to fathom why all radio didn’t sound like this.

But beyond just the music, Mojo talked. More than that, he preached, he advised, he entertained. And he did this while talking to you. Sometimes quite literally directly, with mysterious shoutouts to people by first name. Sometimes to you by connecting. Personally – your high school maybe (if you were lucky) or your street. Maybe your car that he could see from the mothership. And, upon reflection on what Mojo meant to me personally, I realize these many years later that this connecting was one of the most important things Mojo gave me; and maybe us collectively. He bridged the seemingly huge gap between races and classes and geography, and brought the entire city together, just like he brought together all these kinds of music. Maybe more importantly, he did it while telling us how important we each were. Easing us through our problems with dance and words – again that voice – and inadvertently reminding us how we all were the same in a way. I really do think Mojo loved his listeners and took care of them. I guess that’s part of why they seemed to love him back.

So that’s my personal story about The Electrifying Mojo. It is a little weird to think back and see that Mojo was basically my self-help therapist getting through middle and high school. I am thankful for this and all those nights driving around and staring at the concrete landscape of Detroit being reminded to always dance and, when you find yourself at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.