In a town once heralded world wide for it’s enthusiastic embrace of the art form known as Techno, a fire has been burning, smouldering away. As the crowds are lured by the fluoro glow of the electro era, the coals in another fire have been poked and prodded and maintained by the crazed curators of a stuttering dream. These advocates and technocrats have tended flames under guises and banners; winding engines from distant eras to the tune of the techno standard. And now as the smouldering fires emit dampened glows the crews with their banners combine and unite and together work the bellows to feed the flames once more. We walk united and bear a standard that says we will survive this techno child, beyond the perversions of financial gain and crippling commercial strain. For one thing must be ensured, When the Smoke Clears… the drums roll on.