Blue October

Most people fail to make The Leap in life because they make the same mistakes over and over again and fail to correct them. Justin Furstenfeld made The Leap precisely because he made the same mistakes over and over again and failed to correct them. The jarringly frank “Hate Me,” is one of many reasons that his chameleonic modern rock outfit Blue October is evolving from an intensely beloved cult band to fledgling mainstream radio conquerors. While first three full-lengths The Answers (1998), Consent to Treatment (2000), and History for Sale (2003) resonated deeply with rock fans craving sincerity, eclecticism, and unpredictability, 2006’s Foiled has shattered the glass ceiling, soaring towards platinum sales in just eight months on the strength of “Hate Me” and the luxuriant “Into the Ocean.”

The Texan quintet—rounded out by violinist Ryan Delahoussaye, guitarist C.B. Hudson, bassist Matt Noveskey, and drummer Jeremy Furstenfeld—has been practicing their exhaustingly intense games of emotional give and take since forming in 1996. Frontman and principal songwriter Justin (the younger Furstenfeld by 14 months) naturally assumed the lightning rod position, literally crafting diary entries into shockingly forthcoming tunes about all things abuse and addiction (“Hate Me” being the watershed). Blue October’s rabid admirers responded in kind, roaring confessionals right back at them, a phenomenon gorgeously captured on the band’s 2004 double-live CD/DVD Argue With a Tree, which synchronizes the vocalist’s telling lyrical anecdotes with similarly heartfelt fan testimonials. So what exactly is going on during those infamously cathartic live outpourings? “Frustration and getting it out,” Furstenfeld chuckles. “Or complete mad love. I try to live every song as I can. The ones that I wrote years ago, I can’t take it back to that spot, but I try to sing it for the fans who are actually going through those situations.”

Of course, there are countless bands out there splaying their hearts on their tattoo sleeves; what distinguishes Blue October is the astonishing breadth of their influences. Class act rock guitarist CB Hudson dialed down (and deep) to compose Foiled’s electro-orchestral closing suite “18th Floor Balcony.” Noveskey and Furstenfeld applied their uncanny synergy to “soup up” evocative opener “You Make Me Smile,” originally written largely acoustic six years ago. Industrial junkie/multi-instrumentalist Delahoussaye’s nimble hands are all over the crushing “Drilled a Wire Through My Cheek” (also on the Saw III soundtrack). And big brother Jeremy’s penchant for alt-country restraint constantly tempers not only Blue October’s ADD, but Justin’s unchecked extroversion.
“We wanted to make an album like we’ve always wanted to do,” the frontman claims. “With the eclectic style of it being beat-oriented, it being ballads, it being hard rock. Whenever we do rock, we make sure it’s the heaviest it can possibly be. We want to come out sounding as heavy as Deftones would. And as light as Cowboy Junkies would. And as thought-provoking as Peter Gabriel. Musically and lyrically we try to [extend] our bounds as far as we can.”

Blue October have clearly benefited not only from endless rinse-lather-repeat tour cycles, fortifying relationships with their followers, but a genuine curiosity about the creative approach of predecessors. It’s no accident, for example, that Furstenfeld sounds even more vocally encompassing on this record. “In hip-hop, they double-track the important parts,” he explains. “I noticed how it’s just so clean and precise. It worked out for more of the lyrical ‘quick-talk’ kind of stuff—you know, the real confident, wordy parts. You don’t miss any consonants or any vowels. You get every ‘s’ and every ‘t.’ It’s just really pretty that way, I think.”

Plenty of other people think so too. As incredible as the reaction to Foiled has been so far, after over a decade of hard work and development, Blue October are just getting warmed up. Their Leap is still peaking, and they aren’t leaving anyone behind.
“It’s all walks of life: black, white, Asian, Hispanic,” Furstenfeld notes of the devoted. “And it’s not just one genre. It’s people who like hip-hop, it’s people who like rock…” He pauses and laughs. “ I don’t really separate them as categories.”