Years have passed since the sun's stopped shining, three feet sight in a sulphyd vortex. Order is replaced, noise mandatory. Life itself is blunted by the visions and screams that make our post-civilized spiral of chaos, a dreamstate often called reality, a coordinate randomly picked from a range of dimensions, a place time flees to in a feeble attempt to escape itself.

Dawning from the mist of this dawnless planet, a pitchblack silhouette with 12 arms and six heads arises, having no obvious goal, and no intention of getting one. The only thing that can be said, is that it seems to take great pleasure in the creation of only one thing:

PULVERIZING GRINDCORE, AT ANY COST!!!!!

Jurk - Premeditated verbal abuse; Jos - Low frequency storms and high performance vomit repulsion; Dakgoot - Maximum treble in distorto; Seine - Shrieks of discontent and twisted thunder of war; Tinus - Deranged melodics; Rolf - Brass molestation, spasmic roars and oral dispension of fecal matter. All tracks badly written, overproduced and disastered by Painbrouwer. No rights reserved.