Citrus Heights, California's Dead Desolation arrived in 2024 with depressive raw black metal that strips the genre to its barest, most corroded essentials — lo-fi production, harrowing atmosphere, and zero concern for listenability.

Fort Myers' Death of Cain deal in raw, primitive black metal stripped down to its most primitive and hateful essentials. Emerging in 2025, they bring Florida's underground a new voice dripping with frost and spite.

Death Rite emerged in 2024 with raw black metal built on primitive aggression and punk instinct — minimal, unpolished, and deliberately savage. A recent arrival with a sound designed to provoke discomfort.

Los Angeles raw black metal outfit Deathstench has been corroding speakers since 2011, embedding harsh noise and ambient desolation into a foundation of primitive black metal extremity. Deliberately lo-fi and confrontational, they wear the city's shadow like a second skin.

One of Spokane's longest-running extreme metal acts, Decrepit have been plumbing the depths of raw black metal since 1993 — over three decades of stripped-down, unadorned darkness from the inland Pacific Northwest. A true underground survivor.

Billings, Montana's Deinóssaûros emerged in 2022 playing raw black metal in one of the most geographically isolated cities in the American West — a landscape of vast plains and harsh winters that feeds naturally into the genre's primitive, stripped-down aesthetic. Their raw black metal is abrasive and lo-fi by conviction, channeling the desolation of the high plains into pure sonic hostility.

Las Vegas, New Mexico's Demogorgon emerged in 2016 where the desert amplifies both isolation and extremity, channeling that severity into a blackened death metal assault that seethes with cold dissonance and blasting ferocity. The band occupies the corrosive overlap between black metal's atmospheric menace and death metal's physical brutality.

Grand Forks, North Dakota is an unlikely origin point for raw black metal, but Devils Chasm — formed in 2025 — channel the isolation and bitter cold of the Northern Plains into corrosive, minimalist black metal. Their sound carries the specific desolation of a region where winter feels like an ideology.

San Diego's DitchWitch have been dealing in raw black metal and noise since 2018, embracing the lo-fi, corrosive aesthetic that puts atmosphere and hostility above production clarity. In a city known for its more polished metal output, DitchWitch carve out a genuinely abrasive corner — primitive, unrelenting, and indifferent to comfort.