Dayton, Ohio's Grand Mammoth live up to their prehistoric name, laying down stoner-doom riffs that feel massive and unhurried. The band has been rolling boulders since 2016, their music evoking vast geological weight in every passage.

Seattle's Grand Moff bring a ruler's command to stoner-doom, their riffs thick and authoritative over a haze of fuzz and feedback. The city's damp heaviness seeps into every groove they've constructed since forming in 2019.

Tampa's Grand Vulcanus carry the torch of Florida thrash with a fiery intensity that suits their volcanic name. Formed in 2021, they've tapped directly into the city's storied extreme metal heritage and weaponized it into shredding, sharp-edged aggression.

Granite State is a five-piece metalcore and hardcore band from Germantown, Maryland that has been refining their crushing sound since 2018. The band flirts with metalcore, doom metal, and hardcore punk, creating something abrasive, confrontational, and dense. Their EP 'Proper Forms of Protest' showcases a band that values heaviness and honesty in equal measure.

Monterey Bay's Granted Earth have spent over a decade weaving progressive ambition into the fabric of sludge, stoner, and post-metal, arriving at something genuinely exploratory. Their music moves between crushing weight and expansive, atmospheric drift with rare intentionality.

Joliet, Illinois death metal outfit Granulated have been pulverizing since 2020, their name suggesting exactly what they intend to do to their listeners. Rooted in the Midwest's no-frills brutality, they trade in straight-ahead, guts-first death metal with no interest in subtlety.

Bergenfield, New Jersey's Granuloma pursue the atmospheric and post-black metal strains of the genre with textural density and emotional weight. Since 2018 they've constructed a sound that festers slowly, like the tissue condition they're named after.

Scranton's Graphic Violence have been dealing in no-frills thrash metal since 2013, the kind rooted in aggression rather than pageantry. Their name is a promise, and their riffs make good on it.

Philadelphia's Grass approach sludge metal with the patient heaviness of a city that knows how to grind — slow, ugly, and purposeful. Their sound is soil and concrete, rooted firmly in the low-end traditions of the form since 2016.