Goddam, The Sound That Ends Creation. What a great name. You wanted more death grind? You got it. This Allen, TX project really does sound apocalyptic. Think Psyopus paired wtih Okazaki Fragments. It's like being murdered via belt sander. All from the mind of one Chris Dearing, this crushing debut We Are The Burden comes to us direct from the man himself in his own depraved, private corner of the underground scene.
The word "spastic" comes to mind. "Hollow Pine Box" is like simultaneously playing southern rock and death metal from seperate headphones on fast-forward while setting yourself on fire. It's a mathematician's personal hell. "The Fires Are Growing" pairs chugging brutal death with a seemingly random interlude. Bleak, acerbic howls of blackened death and deep, sustained growls reign supreme over complete anarchy. Yes, I'm aware that the previous sentence technically does not make sense. That's just the point. There is no logical way to describe the music of TSTEC. You have to step outside of reason.
I mean, hell. Even when I start to become accustomed to the dissonant madness of it all, "The Open Eye" randomly dips into a bit of clean jazz. What's a journalist to do? Well, there was only one clear choice: raise the white flag of surrender. You win. I am out of words and my brain hurts. I'll keep it as simple as possible: you need to listen to We Are The Burden. It is 22 minutes of relentless mathy grind taken to the utter extreme. You will cower before its raw, unyielding production and brain-metling instrumentation. Like Shia says, "Just Do It!"