I really appreciate you taking the time to form and share your thoughts. It's often very difficult to find any amount of substantial thought, or even basic observations on smaller, hobbyist games like Electric Highways (and these are the types of games I prefer reading about). Your observations were really helpful in allowing me to form my own.

I'm really glad you mentioned the similarities to Marathon (once the enemies have been killed). You nailed it. I downloaded Marathon; it's free and here if anyone is interested:

I had no idea what the switches in the first level of Marathon looked like or what button to press in order to activate them (tab) and in the first level I was struck by the similarities in my play-experience to the one I had in the first level of Electric Highways. There was even a stairway that rose in a similar way. Before you mentioned Marathon, I was wondering if my appreciation of Electric Highways was nostalgic. I had been thinking of the textures and the low-polygon corridor design. But you are totally right, a missing piece was the being slightly lost in a constrained environment searching walls for inconveniently placed switches. My response to Electric Highways was similar to yours in that it managed to show me what I enjoyed about being lost in the emptied corridors of early 2.5D shooters looking for switches. I didn't know that was an aspect of those games that I had enjoyed in any sense. I agree that having the navigation and simple, sparse switches being the focus of the game allows me to see that appreciation I've had, for the first time. In direct comparison to Marathon, I notice how much more dioramic some of Electric Highways' levels are. I suppose it could just be having a sky rather than a ceiling, but it made a big difference in how I perceived these levels. Even the Spacelab Telekon level felt more like a play-set for sci-fi figurines. Those play-sets would often include low-fidelity control-panel stickers to put on spots where semblances of consoles and interfaces should be, similar to how some of the textures are used in that level in particular. I suppose Marathon has those too.

Condor by Connor Sherlock was an intial comparison for me. Condor prioritizes sense of height, massive structures, traversal, prediction of paths, and composition of expansive views that evoke Memphis style. Condor does all of that really well. I think it's a helpful comparison to Electric Highways because I initially thought that Zykoveddy was aiming for something more Condor-like but not managing to execute on that, but I don't feel that way anymore. Electric Highways is expressive of vastly different priorities than Condor. The levels in Electric Highways are so different in their apparent goals of expression, but the technique of execution remains similar. The narrative-framework and the description on the download page suggest that expressing kinds of emotion was a priority for this project. The description says "Electric Highways is a game that's all about experience. Everything in this game, especially visuals and music, has been created for the purpose of giving the player a certain kind of emotion." The narrative between levels describes a world in which human emotions are rare; I get the impression that building virtual environments is a way to commoditize them, but this system of production, distribution, and consumption has estranged everyone involved from non-simulated emotional situations. It would be interesting lore in itself (though I appreciate subtle implications rather than long descriptions), but what I really like about this framework is that while it attempts to establish coherency, I think it gave the levels a more disparate feel. The coherency comes back a bit when I give effort to interpretation. The third level for example, I believe it was called "Other Neon" there is this trite pining for a fated love across the metaphoric cyber-sea. I think you were correct in your observation of the park-benches and this virtual courtyard trying to give the sense of a place for people to gather where there are none. In this level, the narration after the first level (where the narrator explains that they receive no acknowledgement for their demonstration of a virtual, emotionally evocative space), the expressions of existential loneliness that turn into creepy observational exercises (motivated by a desire to synthesize companions) shown on the displays in Spacelab Telekon. the narrator's self-suggestion to make romance that seems to result in a looting fantasy that manages to defeat itself with new, obnoxious arbitrary constraints, it all gives the overal game a theme of failed communion due to generality of subject or grandiose scope. Gawd this game is weird in such an interesting way. I have to go to work, but I hope we continue the discussion so I can get closer to what I like about this game. The closest I've come to being able to describe it to myself is this: There's an unfinished quality of the design and implementation throughout the game. That quality is absolutely essential for my enjoyment of it. It's not just the way it informs the narrative framework, but in it's actual existence as this partially successful attempt to express emotions as spaces, aesthetics, props, triggers, and effects. I feel like each level is complete enough for the author which really helps me understand what they actually wanted to express. It's like they say to themselves "I'll get closer to expressing this productive gray, cool, numbness if I make a stairway that rises to allow you to move through an architectural portal....Hmm, not quite, it needs to feel surprising and effectual so I will add a color change, particle effect and explosive sound...." and so on until they manage something that seems expressive enough. That threshold of enough is what I find fascinating about this game.

I didn't notice those at all! Maybe I'll have a look-see.

Kinda wish I had documented where I found the three I did.

Vague memories:

1. (Numbered 1 or 2) Beneath the security camera in the second level(?)
2. ???
3. (Numbered 5) In the final level, in the area on the right side of the highway (the side that doesn't have the final door, anyway). SSE-ish. I didn't notice the alley it was in until I had unlocked everything, so maybe it was there at first?

Regarding thing 2:
Do you find it strange that the the mechanics are so simplified, but then the spaces have all these mechanically unnecessary nooks with props and effects in them? I feel like Zykoveddy thought hard about how to express the emotions that they associate with the songs, motivates the player with the simple puzzles, and almost wants the player to not pay too much attention to all the details. Maybe Zykoveddy figures that we will look for the orbs and enjoy surprises.
The use of custom props and effects in this game seems so oddly unbalanced to me and I'm intrigued by how they relate to the optimal puzzle-paths and the narrative.