Cincinnati's Debauch has been mining the sepulchral depths of death/doom since 2011, where impossibly slow tempos and cavernous production create a sense of ritualistic despair. Ohio weight pressed into wax.

Brand new out of Chesterton, Indiana, Decades of Grief arrived in 2024 dragging funeral doom's glacial tempos and suffocating weight into the dunes of the southern Lake Michigan shore. Patience is the entry fee — the payoff is obliteration in slow motion.

Madison, Wisconsin's Decarabia inhabits the slow-motion apocalypse of sludge, drone, and doom metal, building suffocating walls of low-end distortion since 2016. A different beast entirely from their name-sharing counterparts — heavier and far slower.

Seattle's Decaying Crypt leans into the death/doom tradition with a murky, sepulchral heaviness, emerging in 2021 from a city that's always supported the heaviest and most atmosphere-drenched corners of metal. Slow, suffocating, and unhurried in the best possible way.

Boston's Decompression marry black metal's icy hostility to doom's oppressive crawl, carving out a bleak, suffocating sound since 2022. The Massachusetts cold seeps into every droning, frost-bitten riff.

Santa Cruz's Deconstruct have been navigating the crushing intersection of doom and death metal since 2012, leveraging the weight of both genres to build slow, suffocating walls of sound. A longtime fixture of the California underground.

Ithaca's Decrement draw from the rich upstate New York heavy music tradition, weaving post-metal's expansive textures together with sludge's grinding heaviness and doom's glacial pace. Since 2018, they've built songs that collapse under their own weight — beautifully.

Born out of Kansas City in 2021, Ded Morose merge the slow burn of doom with classic heavy metal muscle, channeling misery and weight in equal measure.

Los Angeles sludge/doom duo Deep Tomb, formed in 2020, specialize in suffocating, tar-thick riffs that evoke burial — slow, cavernous, and relentlessly bleak.