His one-man confessional and acoustic show comes to the Observatory on April 5. Photo: Zayra Alvarez
Justin Furstenfeld has always been open to sharing his deepest, darkest, at times even suicidal thoughts. It’s something he’s done for nearly two decades through his songwriting and as mouthpiece for Houston rock band Blue October.
But several years ago he began compiling handwritten notes and lyric sheets with scribbled thoughts, as well as photos from the band’s tours and studio sessions, with an eye toward publishing a book.
In 2009 he released the first edition of “Crazy Making,” a hardcover treat for Blue October loyalists who have followed the quartet since its inception in 1995 and through a handful of albums, including its 1998 debut The Answers and 2006’s Foiled, sporting one of the band’s biggest singles, “Hate Me.” Later in ’09, however, Furstenfeld suffered an intense bout of anxiety and sought professional help, forcing the band to cancel remaining performances supporting its then-new album Approaching Normal.
Most of those gigs were rescheduled for 2010, but things didn’t get much better for the vocalist. His downward spiral continued as he endured a divorce, lost custody of his daughter Blue and battled substance addiction.
After coming to the realization that he was a depressed, angry tyrant during the recording of 2011’s Any Man in America, Furstenfeld decided to add to his book as fans poured in questions about what inspired certain songs. Those added chapters served as both explanation and apology to everyone the singer-songwriter had worked with on that particular album.
“Now I’m in a much better place in my life,” the 37-year-old insists during a recent phone interview. He’s in the studio working on a seventh Blue October disc and preparing to head out on a 24-date solo acoustic tour, which kicks off Thursday at the Hotel Café in Los Angeles and arrives Friday at the Observatory in Santa Ana.
Furstenfeld will read from and discuss sections of “Crazy Making,” the expanded version of which arrived Monday. He also will indulge a Q&A segment and perform some unheard songs as well as stripped-down versions of fan favorites.
“I’ve always been so brutally honest with people,” he says. “I went back and looked at some of these songs, and the notes that I had made on them at the time and what’s in the book is what I had originally written. I left it all in. As pathetically depressing as I was back then, or as dangerously scared as I was at the times when I wrote certain songs, I didn’t change a thing.
“I can look back now and go ‘Man, I’m happy that I’ve surrounded myself with the people I’m around now and I got the hell out of that spot in my life.’ During Any Man in America it got really dark, and now that I read back over it I have asked myself: ‘Is that me? Did I let everything control me that much and sink me that low?’ I realize now that I had to go through all of that to get to where I am now and get over it. That’s depression.”
Furstenfeld hates the word “fan” – he feels his followers have become so much more. His lyrics have provoked an overwhelming amount of personal messages from like-minded individuals battling similar demons. The singer admits he leaned too heavily on their support in the past, though. He now realizes it was never their responsibility.
“I let all of these things – the divorce, the custody battle, the court system – I let it run my life for three years straight. While making Any Man in America I was in hell. I was going to court and trying to see my daughter, and then the album was out and we were touring, and I thought all of these people were relating but no one was helping me. They weren’t supposed to. It doesn’t work that way.
“As much as I would love to have things be different, the more I tried to change things the more I went crazy. Now I just try to be a great father and a great person. I’m glad I have my wife now (Sarah) who got my (stuff) in shape.”
They’ve also welcomed a daughter, Sayde Bell, now 6 months old. But he’s still unable to spend as much time as he would prefer with his eldest child.
Blue October’s frontman with his band at a 2009 performance in Texas. Photo: Eric S. Swist
Furstenfeld says he simply strives to be the best he can be, work hard and ensure that money is set aside so that both of his daughters can be put through college and live healthily. Another positive change is having his wife and daughter on tour with him.
“I like to wake up at 6 a.m. with Sayde every day and feed her,” he gushes. “It’s so amazing and it’s so much different this time. My family goes on the road with me and I have to have a sober bus – no alcohol, no drugs, none of that. This has been an amazing second chance.”
His book is dedicated to brother and Blue October anchor Jeremy Furstenfeld, noting that without him there would be no band.
“I put him through hell,” Justin says with a shy laugh. “We’re business partners but we’re such good friends and we know how to keep that relationship. Jeremy is the bulldog and I’m the pansy. He’s such a great person and I owe my whole life and career to him. When I fell off the clock there for a little bit, he picked the company up and made sure it ran because I was all over to the place. Without him I would have run this band into the ground.”
As Blue October wraps up the new album, with a leadoff single due in June, Furstenfeld says the group has been celebrating the fact that they don’t have to “sit around and just hear about Justin … again.” There will surely be more songs about struggle, yet there’s a more positive vibe now.
On the next full tour, when Furstenfeld takes himself back to those dark places to sing older tracks, he says the difference will be his ability to pull out of that mood.
“I can easily jump back into those places,” he explains, “but I used to not be able to get out of that when I walked off the stage. I’m just done with that and I want to be a good person. I think that’s where I finally found my peace – realizing that the stage Justin is not who also walks off the stage.”
An Open Book: An Evening with Justin Furstenfeld of Blue October takes place April 5 at the Observatory in Santa Ana, 3503 S. Harbor Blvd. Tori Vasquez opens at 8. Tickets: $32.50.
