Course of Fate are a Norwegian progressive metal band active since 2003, known for their elaborate compositions, dark atmosphere, and inspirations drawn from groups such as Queensrÿche, Evergrey, Dream Theater and Pink Floyd. Their lyrics explore psychology, philosophy, the human condition and the darker aspects of human nature. Over the years, the band have developed their own musical language – one filled with drama, introspection and emotional depth. Their discography includes the EP ''Cognizance'' (2013) and two full‑length albums: ''Mindweaver'' (2020) and ''Somnium'' (2023). Their latest project, ''Behind the Eclipse'', released on 30 January 2026, marks the most mature stage of their artistic journey.
The current line‑up consists of:
Eivind Gunnesen – vocals, a voice with a wide emotional range, from intimate whispers to dramatic, expressive phrasing;
Kenneth Henriksen – guitar, one of the band’s pillars, blending precision with melancholy;
Marcus André Skaar Lorentzen – guitar (a long‑time member of the band, shaping its characteristic sound);
Fredrik Jacobsen – guitar (the new guitarist, bringing modern aggression and progressive complexity to the music);
Torstein Guttormsen – bass, who joined after the passing of Daniel Nygaard in 2023, playing with a heavy, organic, emotionally charged tone;
Per‑Morten Bergseth – drums, a musician with an exceptional sense of dramaturgy, whose playing feels like the heartbeat of the entire band.
Throughout the years, Course of Fate have steadily built their position on the progressive metal scene, undergoing several line‑up changes yet never losing their signature dark‑epic sound. From their debut ''Mindweaver'', through the more introspective ''Somnium'', and now to ''Behind the Eclipse'', they have refined a style rooted in Gunnesen’s melodic vocals, Henriksen’s massive guitars and Bergseth’s increasingly intricate rhythmic structures. Recent years, however, brought significant shifts: after the death of bassist Daniel Nygaard, his place was taken by Torstein Guttormsen, and Marcus Lorentzen joined the guitar section, injecting a more aggressive, modern energy. Keyboardist Carl Marius Saugstad – responsible for the cinematic atmosphere of the earlier albums – left the band in 2024, which also influenced their evolving sound.
''Behind the Eclipse'' is therefore an album born at a moment of transition – rooted in the progressive foundations of Course of Fate, yet opening a new chapter in the band’s history. It is a record created by a line‑up that has endured difficult changes and emerged more mature, more self‑aware, and ready to push their own boundaries. It is an album that is not merely listened to, but experienced – like a long corridor filled with doors, each leading to a different fragment of the human psyche.
Course of Fate return here like travellers who have seen more than they wished to, now trying to tell the world about it using sound instead of words. Henriksen and Lorentzen’s guitars cut through the haze like two blades – one cold and precise, the other heated with emotion, as if trying to burn a mark into the darkness. Bergseth’s drumming is the heartbeat in the background, sometimes calm like the breath of a sleeping giant, sometimes violent like a storm that doesn’t ask for permission. Gunnesen’s voice rises above it all like a lighthouse on a stormy sea – not guiding you to shore, but letting you know you’re not alone, even when the waves reach your throat. Guttormsen’s bass, heavy and deep, acts like gravity, keeping everything grounded so the emotions don’t drift into the void.
This is an album born from upheaval – you can hear the grief for what has been lost, and the determination to move forward. The absence of Saugstad’s keyboards opens up a different kind of space: less like a cinematic panorama, more like a night‑time city seen from a rooftop, where every sound is a separate light, and every light a story. Behind the Eclipse is not a record you simply “put on”. It’s a record that gets under your skin, like a cold wind before a storm. Music created by people who walked through the shadows and returned carrying a handful of sparks. The album runs for over 45 minutes and consists of eight compositions.
The album opens with “Memories”, a piece that feels like the first light entering a room that hasn’t been cleaned in years. It doesn’t simply begin — it awakens, stretches, looks around, as if checking whether the world is ready for what it has to say. The guitars drift like dust suspended in the air: delicate, scattered, with a subtle reverb that works like the echo of words spoken long ago. The bass enters like the weight of memories returning uninvited, and the drums appear only when the emotions begin to pulse beneath the skin. Gunnesen’s vocal is a narrator returning to places he once promised himself to forget — tense, as if every line were an attempt to reconcile with the past. “Memories” doesn’t explode. It cracks — slowly, with dignity, like an old wall finally giving up the pretence that nothing affects it.
The title track, “Behind the Eclipse,” is a monumental structure built from half‑shadows. It sounds like a musical illustration of an eclipse — slow, inevitable, beautiful in its quiet menace. The guitars converse like shifting light across the moon’s surface: sometimes sharp and cold, sometimes blurred like mist over water. The bass leads like a guide through darkness, while the drums tick with thriller‑like tension. Gunnesen’s voice moves from restraint to full expression, as if trying to break through his own shadow. The climax merges all instruments into a single dense, heavy wave of sound — music that doesn’t ask for attention but demands it.
“Sky Is Falling” captures the moment when the world truly begins to collapse. Guitars open the track like a crack in the sky, and the drums fall like a meteor shower — fast, intense, unpredictable. The verses feel claustrophobic, the chorus opens like the space left after an explosion. Gunnesen sings as if the ground were slipping beneath him, yet he still fights to stay upright. It’s a song about losing control — about the sky falling not metaphorically, but literally.
In “So It Goes,” calm is not relief — it is resignation, like a deep breath after a storm when survival is the only victory. Soft, warm guitars with a nostalgic chorus effect, sparse bass, and minimal drums create a fragile space. Gunnesen’s intimate, late‑night vocal feels like truth spoken when one no longer has the strength to lie. Technically simple, emotionally devastating.
“Acolyte” is the album’s most progressive and intricate composition — a ritual in several stages. Tempo changes, surprising transitions, and guitar dialogues shape a multi‑part structure. Cold precision meets heated emotion, polyrhythmic drums intertwine with melodic bass lines, and Gunnesen’s voice shifts from narration to sermon‑like intensity. This track doesn’t tell a story — it performs it.
The darkest moment, “Hiding From the Light,” sounds like fleeing a truth too bright to bear. Heavy, echoing bass, a wall of absorbing guitars, slow heartbeat‑like drums, and a tense, fearful vocal create a suffocating, fog‑like atmosphere. The more you try to disperse it, the more it surrounds you.
“Don’t Close Your Eyes” is the emotional peak — a track that doesn’t flow but bleeds. The cello becomes a second narrator: velvety, heavy, piercing like cold metal. Guitars reflect like lantern light on wet asphalt, the bass pulses with fear, and the drums tread carefully on thin ice. The climax intertwines cello and guitar into a single trembling emotional line — a moment that lingers long after the music fades.
The album closes with “Neverwhere,” like stepping out of a labyrinth into open air. The most “journey‑like” track, shifting tempos and moods, with guitars moving like a distant horizon and melodic bass telling its own parallel story. The drums narrate without words, and Gunnesen’s weary yet quietly hopeful voice suggests not triumph, but survival. An ending that doesn’t close the story — it lets it continue within the listener.
''Behind the Eclipse'' doesn’t merely confirm Course of Fate’s maturity — it embodies it. This is the work of a band that has walked through darkness, touched the bottom, and returned with music that feels like a breath taken after a long submersion. No posing, no artifice, no theatrics — every sound is a fingerprint, honest and deliberate.
This is a record that doesn’t try to prove anything.
It simply is.
A weight on the listener’s shoulders.
A light breaking through cracks.
A shadow that teaches you how to live with it.
On the surface, it is modern progressive metal — precise, spacious, self‑aware. Beneath it lies a story of loss, transformation, and the search for oneself in a world that rarely offers second chances. And deeper still — the document of a band that has passed through its own eclipse and emerged not triumphantly, but truthfully.
Its greatest strength is courage:
the courage not to run from emotion,
not to smooth the edges,
to look directly at what hurts — and not turn away.
Each track is a chapter, and together they form a story that resonates long after the final note.
This is not an album that gives easy answers — it gives something far more valuable: the sense that you are not alone in your darkness.
In an era of trend‑chasing, Course of Fate have created something timeless — not because it sounds classic, but because it sounds honest. Music unafraid of silence, of weight, of truth.
''Behind the Eclipse'' is not just an album worth listening to.
It is an album worth living through.
Close your eyes.
Open them again.
Let shadow and light tell their story.
Highly recommended.
