From Bandcamp, “Finnish group HOPE IS A LIE is slow, unhurried, and extremely bleak doom, post-metal, sludge, industrial and a pinch of grunge. While the music sounds like despair, and conveys bleak stories of a future without human relationships, if you lose all hope, you have nothing more to lose.” The album has seven songs, and “Pure” is first. The opening piano tones are simple, and somber, and the riff that follows is slow, powerful, and dark. The vocals are even-keeled, and harmonized at first, and then turn ugly with the advent of harsh tones. “End of Days” has a more prophetic edge to it, hinting at the doom of mankind and the destruction of efficiency. The vocals drip with feelings of regret, and just sort of hang out there without energy.

“Suits” has some fat electronic notes, and a much darker edge to it. It reminds me of NINE INCH NAILS or MINISTRY from yesteryear. The harsh vocals and distorted riff bring a sense of rage and anger along with them. “Dance” clears out some of the dark fog and filth to a song with clean, pretty tones. But again, that vocal delivery is almost void of emotion in its monotone notes. Dancing is about the last thing I could imagine doing to this song, and the harsh vocals are equally as devastating. “Shadow” recounts a story from when he was a kid, with his father, visiting a home. He says “something stunk,” and “there was a lot of tension,” and that was all he remembered “until the funeral.” These feelings run deep.

“Into the Flames” is another devastatingly heavy song in terms of the burden it heaps on your narrow shoulders. There is also an intensity that burns like a fire that before you know it, has surrounded you. The lengthy “Rot” closes the album, and what a fitting title. When he tells the story in spoken word, it is very matter-of-fact, and devoid of emotion, yet the subject material is loaded with it. This paradox is often called "flat affect narration" or "deadpan storytelling,” and it can create a sense of detachment, or even horror. As it continues, these feelings become more and more sharp, and more and more deadened at the same time.

There are albums that explore sadness, albums that wallow in despair, and then there’s “Hope Is A Lie”—a record that takes the very concept of being "dead inside" and strips it of all remaining warmth, leaving nothing but a skeletal framework of exhaustion and decay. This isn’t just an album about hopelessness; it’s a eulogy for the last flickering remnants of human feeling. If you’ve ever wanted to hear what it truly means to be hollowed out from the inside, this record plays like the sound of your own reflection, staring back with vacant eyes.