Formed by founding members of grindcore legends Insect Warfare, including drummer Dobber Beverly. Named after the Bolt Thrower album.

War Prison formed in Tucson in 2019, fusing the caustic intensity of Sonoran Desert hardcore with the surgical brutality of death metal. The band operates where pit-ready aggression and outright death metal violence are functionally indistinguishable — every riff an instrument of damage. Tucson's scene has long punched above its weight, and War Prison carries that tradition forward with no apology.

Coming out of Vinton, Virginia in 2025, War Theory arrived fully formed with a blend of thrash, death, and groove metal that sounds like it has been cooking for years. Their approach favors the visceral forward momentum of thrash, thickened by death metal's ruthlessness and given a punishing mid-tempo swing by groove. A young band with a clear-eyed sense of exactly the kind of metal they want to make.

Saint Paul's Warhead emerged in 2023 at the intersection of thrash, death metal, and crossover — a convergence zone where the pit never stops moving. They bring the raw directness of crossover's hardcore DNA to material that has genuine death metal menace buried inside it, and the result plays like a provocation aimed at anyone standing still. The Twin Cities underground has always had teeth, and Warhead are happy to use theirs.

San Marcos, Texas gave rise to Warhead Wrex in 2019, a band built on the collision of death metal's extremity with groove metal's undeniable physical pull. Situated between Austin and San Antonio in the heart of the Texas metal corridor, they tap into the region's tradition of raw, powerful heavy music while keeping things thick and visceral. The groove is not a concession — it is the whole point.

New Orleans' Wasted Creation formed in 2020 at the punishing convergence of technical death metal and deathcore, drawing on a city whose musical DNA runs unusually deep even for extreme metal. The technical sophistication of their death metal side coexists with the sheer brutality of deathcore in a way that feels native to a city that has always blended traditions without hesitation. They arrived ready to inflict serious damage.

Savage Death Metal out of Texas.

Out of Kendall Park, New Jersey since 2009, We All Have Day Jobs bring a sardonic self-awareness to their deathcore that is written right into the name — extreme music made by people living ordinary lives who happen to need to play brutally heavy music to survive them. Over fifteen years of operation, they have earned their place in the New Jersey underground with a commitment to the form that outlasts most bands who start with more fanfare. The deathcore is serious even when the name is not.

Brooklyn's Weightlessness have been combining doom and death metal since 2014 in the dense, eclectic crucible that New York's underground provides. Their sound leans into the death-doom tradition's love of contrast — the crush of doom, the precision of death, the grief that lives between them — with a Brooklyn sourness that keeps it from ever becoming merely atmospheric. Slow, dark, and specific to the place that made them.

Denver's Well of Sacrifice have been mining progressive death metal since 2018, bringing a compositional discipline to extreme music that the Denver scene has increasingly fostered as it has matured. They build death metal that thinks about where it is going — structure and technicality in service of emotional impact rather than as ends in themselves. One of Denver's more serious contributions to the intersection of brutality and craft.

Heavy Melodic Death Metal out of Texas.

Minnesota's West Coast Incident formed in 2023, their name carrying an ironic geographic displacement that suits a band playing death and sludge metal far from either coast. Their hybrid of death metal's aggression and sludge metal's crawling density is well-suited to the brutal Minnesota winters that the Twin Cities underground has always converted into heavy music. Strange name, straightforward devastation.

Gainesville's Wharflurch formed in 2019, emerging from the North Florida college town that has always punched above its weight in underground music with a death-doom sound that feels genuinely swamp-adjacent — slow, putrefying, and emanating something deeply unpleasant. Gainesville's humidity and proximity to old Florida wilderness seeps into everything, and Wharflurch sounds like it grew up from the ground rather than being constructed. Death-doom for the subtropics.

Longmont, Colorado's When Darkness Falls formed in 2017 at the crossroads of melodic death metal and metalcore, a pairing that the Front Range scene has proven particularly adept at sustaining. Their sound draws on the melodic death tradition's twin obligations — genuine hookcraft and real ferocity — while metalcore's structural clarity gives it the accessibility that makes the genre stick. Colorado's altitude, it turns out, suits this kind of intensity.

Los Angeles' Whipworm formed in 2016 combining the caustic aggression of death metal with thrash's relentless forward propulsion — a combination the city's sprawling extreme music underground has always had room for. Their name is as unpleasant as their sound is meant to be, and in LA's competitive heavy underground that is a credibility move as much as anything else. Fast, filthy, and exactly as hostile as intended.