In the pantheon of heavy metal, some bands are innovators, others are purists, and a select few are curators. Finland’s Hooded Menace belongs firmly to this latter category. For nearly two decades, the band has operated less as a conventional musical group and more as a project of cultural archaeology, meticulously excavating the atmospheric dread of 1970s European horror cinema and the sonic architecture of early 1990s death-doom.
Their albums are not merely collections of songs but carefully arranged exhibits in a gallery of the grotesque. It is with this understanding that the announcement of their seventh full-length album, ‘Lachrymose Monuments Of Obscuration,’ arrives not as simple news, but as the unveiling of a new, significant wing in their macabre museum.
Scheduled for release on October 3, 2025, via the Season of Mist label, the album signals another chapter in the band’s ongoing dialogue with the past, one that continues to reanimate ghoulish legacies while simultaneously carving out its own distinct and formidable monument.
The Sepulchral Echo of the Past
The history of Hooded Menace is a study in methodical evolution, a slow, inexorable crawl from the crypt of its influences toward a singular identity. Formed in 2007 in Joensuu, Finland, by Lasse Pyykkö, a veteran of the Finnish death metal scene through his work with the band Phlegethon, the project’s mission was clear from its inception.
The intent was to forge a sound that married the funereal weight of doom pioneers like Candlemass and Cathedral with the guttural, visceral aggression of early death metal acts such as Autopsy and Asphyx. The band’s first two albums, ‘Fulfill the Curse’ (2008) and the seminal ‘Never Cross the Dead’ (2010), served as the codification of this sound—raw, reverent, and utterly devoted to the slow crush.
The subsequent period, marked by a move to Relapse Records for the albums ‘Effigies of Evil’ (2012) and ‘Darkness Drips Forth’ (2015), represented a phase of refinement. During this era, Pyykkö’s signature melodic lead guitar work, which had always been present, was brought further to the forefront. These soaring, sorrowful harmonies added a layer of gothic tragedy over the punishing rhythmic foundation, elevating the band from a cult underground act to a recognized pillar of the modern death-doom movement.
A more profound shift occurred with the band’s signing to Season of Mist and the arrival of vocalist Harri Kuokkanen in 2016, who took over vocal duties from Pyykkö. The albums that followed, ‘Ossuarium Silhouettes Unhallowed’ (2018) and particularly ‘The Tritonus Bell’ (2021), marked the beginning of a new chapter.
‘The Tritonus Bell’ was a watershed moment, a record that saw the band overtly and unapologetically integrate the galloping rhythms and twin-guitar heroics of 1980s traditional heavy metal into their sound, setting a direct precedent for the continued evolution promised by ‘Lachrymose Monuments Of Obscuration.’

This sonic expansion was inextricably linked to the change in vocalist. Pyykkö’s original vocal style was a cavernous, subterranean growl, perfectly suited to the band’s earlier, more monolithic sound. Kuokkanen, however, brought a different texture—a more powerful and articulate roar described as sitting somewhere between the commanding bark of Nick Holmes from Paradise Lost and the guttural pronouncements of John Alman from Winter.
This vocal style is not merely a personnel change but a catalyst. Kuokkanen’s more commanding presence provides a focal point that can stand astride the increasingly complex and melodic musical arrangements. It allows the intricate, classic metal-indebted guitar harmonies and more dynamic tempos to flourish, creating a cohesive whole where a deeper, more atmospheric growl might have been subsumed.
The decision to change vocalists appears, in retrospect, to be a deliberate artistic choice intertwined with the desire to explore this new sonic territory, a pivotal move that unlocked the band’s current creative trajectory.
A Cinema of Cruelty and Sound
At the heart of Hooded Menace lies a central obsession: the ‘Blind Dead’ film series directed by Spanish auteur Amando de Ossorio in the 1970s. This is not a casual influence but the band’s foundational mythology. The films tell the story of the Knights Templar, executed for heresy and satanic rituals, who return from their graves as desiccated, undead revenants.
Crucially, they are not the flesh-eating zombies of George A. Romero’s lineage; they are something far more spectral. They are blind, hunting their victims by sound, and move with a slow, ghostly deliberation, often on horseback, their tattered hoods and cloaks giving them an iconic silhouette.
This cinematic lore is translated directly into the band’s sonic and aesthetic identity. The crushing, slow-motion doom passages that define their sound are the musical embodiment of the Templars’ inexorable advance. The lyrical themes of tombs, curses, and eyeless hordes are a direct transcription of the films’ narrative.
This connection is made explicit on the cover of ‘Lachrymose Monuments Of Obscuration,’ where renowned artist Wes Benscoter has been tasked with recreating the ghoulish glory of Ossorio’s undead knights, a visual confirmation of the band’s enduring fealty.
Beyond the surface-level horror, however, lies a deeper resonance. Academic analysis of the ‘Blind Dead’ series posits the films as a political allegory for post-Franco Spain. The return of the ancient, dogmatic, and violent Templars has been interpreted as a representation of the lingering threat of Francoist traditionalism haunting a nation attempting to modernize and embrace new social freedoms.
While it is unlikely that Hooded Menace is engaging in explicit political commentary, they are tapping into this deeper thematic wellspring of historical dread—the terror of a past that refuses to stay buried.
In their steadfast devotion to this niche corner of horror history, the band performs an act of cultural transmission. The ‘Blind Dead’ films, while beloved by cult cinephiles, are far from the mainstream horror canon. Hooded Menace, through nearly two decades of music, artwork, and interviews, has served as the series’ most prominent global ambassador, introducing its unique aesthetic to a new generation.
Their music breathes new un-life into Ossorio’s vision, ensuring that the spectral Templars continue their ride, their legacy carried forth not on celluloid, but on waves of downtuned distortion.
Portraits of a Shifting Menace
The two singles released ahead of the album serve as a powerful statement of intent, a diptych that illustrates both the internal evolution and the external confidence of the band today. The first, ‘Portrait Without a Face,’ is a masterclass in the band’s contemporary form. It opens with Pekka Koskelo’s drums pounding like a coffin lid being nailed shut before unfolding into a composition that perfectly balances their foundational doom with a newfound melodic sophistication.
The track is built upon a conspiratorial web of dual-guitar leads that evoke the gothic grandeur of King Diamond and Mercyful Fate, a clear continuation of the path forged on ‘The Tritonus Bell.’ Yet, a startling new texture emerges: the haunted moan of a cello, performed by former live bassist Antti Poutanen.
This is not a symphonic flourish but a raw, sorrowful voice that deepens the funereal atmosphere, connecting the band to the elegant misery of peers like My Dying Bride without sacrificing an ounce of their death metal ferocity.
The accompanying music video, directed by Tekla Valy, enhances these themes, presenting a psychological horror narrative of shattered mirrors and obscured identity that moves beyond simple performance to become a complementary work of art.
If ‘Portrait Without a Face’ showcases evolution from within, the second single, a cover of Duran Duran’s 1982 new wave hit ‘Save a Prayer,’ is a staggering display of transformative power. The choice is audacious, moving beyond their previous cover of W.A.S.P. to tackle a band from an entirely different musical universe.
The result is a complete transmutation. The original’s dreamy synthesizer melody is rendered as a “vivid, neon-soaked nightmare” through Pyykkö’s blood-soaked, downtuned riffs. Harri Kuokkanen’s guttural roars replace Simon Le Bon’s velvety croon, twisting a song about a fleeting romantic encounter into a predatory, gothic horror tale.
Together, these two tracks reveal the full scope of the band’s ambition. One demonstrates that their core sound is still fertile ground for innovation; a stronger aesthetic is proven by the other, which can conquer and corrupt even the most incongruous source material, making it entirely their own.
Crafting the Monument
The creation of ‘Lachrymose Monuments Of Obscuration’ was helmed by a team of trusted collaborators and seasoned professionals. The album was recorded and mixed by Heikki Marttila at Guru Studio in Joensuu, Finland, with the final master crafted by the esteemed Jaime Gomez Arellano at Orgone Studios in Portugal, ensuring a sound that is both immense and articulate. The striking artwork was created by Wes Benscoter, and the album is being released by Season of Mist.
The album’s seven tracks, with a total runtime of 46 minutes and 53 seconds, are: ‘Twilight Passages,’ ‘Pale Masquerade,’ ‘Portrait Without a Face,’ ‘Daughters of Lingering Pain,’ ‘Lugubrious Dance,’ ‘Save a Prayer,’ and ‘Into Haunted Oblivion.’
The band’s core personnel for the recording includes Harri Kuokkanen on vocals, Lasse Pyykkö on guitars, bass, and keyboards, and Pekka Koskelo on drums. They were joined by guest musicians Antti Poutanen on cello and John McNulty providing spoken word. At the time of this report, no tour dates in support of the album have been announced.
The Persistence of Monuments
‘Lachrymose Monuments Of Obscuration’ stands as a masterclass in synthesis, a demonstration of a band that has achieved a profound understanding of its own artistic language. The album represents the confluence of multiple historical streams: the atmospheric dread of 1970s Euro-horror, the epic melodicism of 1980s heavy metal, the foundational gloom of 1990s death-doom, and even the unexpected gloss of new wave pop.
Hooded Menace has long been a pillar of its genre, but this record sees them transcending that role. They are no longer just upholding a tradition; they are actively expanding its borders.
The album’s ultimate significance may lie in its powerful demonstration that a musical form can be simultaneously reverent and revolutionary. By honoring the monuments of the past, Hooded Menace has gained the power to construct new, even more terrifying structures for the future, proving that true artistic evolution comes not from abandoning one’s roots, but from learning how to graft strange and vital new branches onto them.
A key aspect of Hooded Menace’s appeal lies in their synthesis of sound and image, drawing heavily on the cult aesthetic of 1970s horror. As the band continues to evolve by incorporating new musical elements, how does their foundational connection to this specific cinematic history shape your interpretation and anticipation of their new work?
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