Three extra funky dancefloor smashers by the busy bee also known as John Tejada. It was a hot summer day, no clouds in the big blue sky, as I suddenly got up to return my friends basketball after not returning it for more then 10 years. I don't know why I did it, I don't know why I had to do it right now. As I walked down the street holding that ball I was flooded with memories. The party at Michael's house. Those crazy Technokids from upper Austria. The drinks, the drugs, the girls, the blurry parts... One memory was especially blurry, the one where I pick up that basketball. I was alone in my friends garage, the repetitive sound of filtered kickdrums coming from inside the house. I remember feeling like I am not really alone. Flashy lights. My memory seemed to be coming back more and more the closer I get now. The garage door was open. I got inside. I try to put the ball back in the cardboard box where I took it from as the garage door closes. Darkness. A voice whispers: "I smell your sound and I eat your colors"