Vancouver, Washington's Hellephant brings the slow, massive presence their name implies — sludge metal that moves with tectonic deliberateness and enormous tonal weight. Since 2020, they have staked their identity on sheer, unhurried heaviness.

Hellish Form push doom to its most suffocating extreme, folding sludge's abrasive texture into funeral doom's glacial pace and near-unbearable weight. Formed in 2020, they embrace desolation as an art form — slow, suffocating, and strangely beautiful.

Out of Philadelphia, Hellrad crush under the full weight of sludge metal, piling on slow, suffocating riffs and the kind of feedback-drenched misery that makes you feel the humidity before the storm hits. They formed in 2017 with a dedication to dragging listeners through the muck.

Boone, North Carolina's Hempire hit the Appalachian highlands with a fusion of sludge and stoner metal since 2022, rolling heavy riffs through cloud banks of fuzz and feedback. Mountain air never sounded this thick.

Boston's Hepatagua have been plying their trade in sludge metal since 2013, bringing the Northeast's particular strain of urban heaviness to a genre that thrives on misery and low tuning. Dense, slow, and corrosive in all the right ways.

Carrollton, Georgia's Her Name Is Death emerged in 2025 with a triptych of doom, drone, and sludge that moves like a slow flood — irreversible and all-consuming. One of the newer acts in the Southern heavy underground, their intentions are already unmistakably bleak.

Salt Lake City's Hibernaut pile sludge, stoner, and doom into a slow-moving mass that seems calibrated to induce a specific kind of narcotic heaviness. Formed in 2023, they occupy the hazy zone where riff weight and psychedelic drift become the same thing.

Oakland's High on Fire are one of the defining forces in American doom and sludge, built on Matt Pike's mythological vision and the kind of riff density that makes everything around it feel thin. Since reforming their presence in the early 2010s, they have remained one of the heaviest and most uncompromising bands on earth.

Named for the Welsh concept of a longing for something irretrievably lost, Alabama's Hiraeth bring groove metal's propulsive rhythms and sludge's corrosive weight to bear on an emotional register that matches the word. Out of Calera since 2019, they hit hard and leave a mark.