Hellmask operates in the furthest reaches of funeral doom and ambient metal, crafting recordings since 2017 that feel less like songs and more like long descents into irreversible darkness. Atmosphere is the entire purpose here, and they wield it with unsettling mastery.

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.

Raleigh's Hellrazor have been sharpening their thrash attack since 2011, delivering the kind of no-frills neck-wrecking riffs that could only come from a band with something to prove in the American South's underrated metal underground. Fast, lean, and built to destroy.

Brooklyn's Hellreign bring a cold, unforgiving black metal aesthetic to New York City, forging bleak tremolo walls and icy atmosphere since 2017. Their urban environment gives the darkness a peculiar, concrete-and-shadow texture.

Named after a 19th-century repeating rifle, Mount Shasta's Hellrïegel traffic in the kind of classic heavy metal that feels both timeless and remote — fitting for a band rooted in the shadow of a dormant volcano in Northern California. Formed in 2020, they carry the old-school torch with conviction.

Portland's Hellshock have spent over two decades hammering out a vicious blend of crust punk, death metal, and thrash — a trifecta of filth that hits like a pipe wrench wrapped in barbed wire. Since 2001, they've remained one of the Pacific Northwest's most reliably punishing acts.

Augusta, Maine's Hellstorm have cultivated a death metal attack since 2010 that draws on the bleakness of New England winters — relentless, punishing, and completely indifferent to comfort. They are one of the more isolated and underrated voices in the northeastern underground.

Portland's Hellthorne emerged in 2019 with a black metal sound rooted in atmosphere and malevolence, weaving cold riffs and spectral menace into something that feels distinctly like the Pacific Northwest in winter. Desolate and deliberate.

Memphis's HellThrasher collide black metal, death metal, and crust punk into a grimy, feral hybrid since 2017 — the kind of music that sounds like it was recorded in a condemned building and means every second of it. Southern heat filtered through pitch-black nihilism.