Over the last decade or so, the convergence of the extreme fringes of black metal’s overlap with the experimental, industrial and harsh noise underground has not come entirely as an unexpected development although it has produced some highly varied results.

Acts such as Wold and the crossover activity of the Hospital Productions label releasing straight black metal releases have served to continue blurring the boundaries between black metal and noise, and the preponderance of acts brandishing the attitude and visual presentation of black metal as a cultural stance for noise, drone, ambient and ritual sounds shows no indication of abating any time soon. T.O.M.B. is one such act that adheres to the black metal ethos but delivers its message through an experimental/electroacoustic sound palette rather than with icy blasts of trebly guitar.

On UAG (undercovered ancient gateways), T.O.M.B.’s latest effort, a bit of exposition greatly enhances the listening experience. Source material was gathered from locations imbued with rich emotional history (such as the Pennhurst State Hospital in Pennsylvania, and Kentucky's infamous Waverly Hills). T.O.M.B. utilizes the resonant qualities of the structures themselves as the vehicle for their excursions into dark, blackened death industrial. Direct hand-to-surface percussion is a common element in many of the tracks, but is usually supported by deftly manipulated and always sinister spatial atmospheres.
 
The album opens up with a rumbling and cloudy harsh noise wall, successful in only partially obscuring insistent ritualistic drums in the distance. The record has a definite feeling of place and once inside, (having traversed this uncompromising entrance trial), the listener is subjected to a wide variety of artful ambient/noise encounters in various claustrophobic and sinister environs. Wailing blackened winds coexist with filthy power electronics synth drone; sagging metal doors being shaken with desperate abandon echo plaintively; painful, unending crescendos of reverberating hissing static defile the room. Lighter, airy (yet still dust-choked) textures border on the sonorous yet pull back just enough to embrace the all-pervasive discordant atmosphere for a final ear-rending tantrum of palm-to-wet-concrete slaps. Finally as this series of tortuous cacophonies can seemingly go on no longer, the experience of being interred commences. A quiet moment of preparation precedes the crematory’s all-consuming flame – a process that serves as UAG’s final exit.
 
T.O.M.B. continues to add to an open-ended and fruitful discography based on harsh atmospheres and, increasingly, dark catacombs of sound the common man would quickly eschew. UAG is recommended to anyone with an interest in the intersection of noise, drone and ritual sounds and is a worthy addition to the canon of this interesting cross-pollination of depraved moods, ideas and attitudes.