Review Summary: Believe it.
A double-album kinda needs to justify its existence. I mean, it’s an artist essentially telling the audience
I’ve got too many f*cking ideas that one mere disc can’t handle, make it two! And that’s a weird hurdle to need to leap over--art is art and shouldn’t be required to, like, explain why it has a right to art--but the consistent skepticism targeted at these kinds of works seems indicative of that phenomenon. Justin Furstenfeld having a nearly spotless track record doesn’t grant him immunity; he’s been trucking as Blue October’s chief songwriter, voice, and beating heart for nearly three decades with zero signs of exhaustion, but he certainly found himself under the microscope when
Spinning the Truth Around was announced as a multi-LP project. As per usual, audiences gather ‘round to see if the typical vehicle of uncontainable over-ambition careens headlong off a cliff of pure hubris--but no such crash is to be heard here. Instead, listeners witness fireworks of a different variety; Furstenfeld and co. again miraculously reinvent themselves, effortlessly defy expectations, and deliver an armada of gorgeous tunes that more than justify a
Pt. 2 to this achingly beautiful saga.
The lush arrangements that characterized
Pt. 1 remain; every single track, from the upbeat, twangy acoustics and country-esque aesthetic of “Leave Room For A Miracle” to the gentle strumming, 80s-like synths, and swelling strings of “Slow Down,” have incredible depth that the band ordinarily didn’t toy with. Cascading electronics are consistently decorating the scenery, setting the stage for Justin’s resonating baritone and a wide array of addicting riffs that dance around the record’s many hooks, unraveling an ethereal production that aids a gentle ebb-and-flow between pop bangers and ballads. Much of what grounds
Pt 2.’s layered compositions lies in the album’s more guitar-centric presentation, placing less emphasis upon auto-tune and synths while accentuating static and echoing riffs. All of these elements continue to intermingle, such as the reverberating strings of “All I See Is You,” but the balance feels much more even, if not outright favoring the presence of the guitar passages. None of these sections are inherently complex, but the manner in which Blue October carefully combine their various contributions leads to surprisingly intricate soundscapes.
In another similarity to its predecessor,
Pt. 2 is stocked to the brim with a delightful variety of tunes, and the sequencing of tunes is remarkably cohesive. An idyllic flow once perfected on
This is What I Live For has since become a key strength of the group. There’s the radiant metamorphosis of “Sobriety”--a winding progression from delicate restraint to shimmering electronics and a garage-band-like jam explosion of gritty guitars and a groovy bass--and the ensuing “Magic Isn’t Real”: an artfully cheesy, bubbly pop tune that bounces off a charismatic lead and rolls through spellbinding verses, relishing in a carefree vibe that wonderfully pairs off with the disc’s atmosphere. The ballads remain as potent as ever, with the aforementioned “Slow Down” shining in particular with Justin’s immaculate vocal performance, as well as the stripped-back, melancholic “Goodbye To The Old Days,” and the elegant instrumental crescendo inside “Better Man”--its climax artfully restrained to allow Furstefeld’s vocals to merge with the rising melodies and create a powerful culmination of emotion. The absolute rockers interspersed throughout complement these gentler portions superbly, from the surging synths and rollicking guitars of “Down Here Waiting” to the triumphant riffing and anthemic glory of album opener “Sideways,” therefore generating plenty of peaks and valleys to traverse.
When considering those emotional high points, the usual caveats about the lyrics rear their ugly heads: indeed, these are not the works of William Shakespeare or [insert your favorite author here, I don’t care], but what they
are more than compensates. Justin’s never shied away from letting his pen wander and spell out every imperfect, unorganized thought in its authentic form, which often results in phrases capable of making a listener wince just the same as they draw tears. It’s a thousand-percent genuine when it comes to Blue October--an aspect that makes their LPs enduring in their relatable, unclean expressions. A glimpse into this beauty can be discovered in “Goodbye To The Old Days”:
“Well I hope one day when you look back on it
You'll see a love began with a mess I madе
I couldn't have stopped from hurting you
If forgiving me didn't stop thе pain
Yeah, f*ck it, I admit it, I'm the one that caved in
Oh you never had love 'cause I know I never gave it”
Amidst sparse strumming and reverberating ambiance, Justin’s words pierce through the disc’s dreamlike aura. There’s an honesty that his ever-so-slightly pained words so excellently portray, like a necessary admission that’s only barely escaping his lips. It’s as impactful as the basic refrain of “Magic Isn’t Real” despite using different tactics, with the latter tune thriving off of a sugar-sweet melody and energetic instrumentation. Both passages are precisely woven into the framework of their respective tracks and supplies them with poignant payoffs, all while the song structuring itself aids the lyrics in turn. There’s a goldmine to uncover there, such as “1222 Bay Oak Street”:
“You were all mine
Our wedding finger tattooed thirty five
Years I felt lucky to be by your side
You were my first for it all
My everything
There's a reason that you're gone
A need for God to take you away
I imagine you're an angel with a hundred thousand souls to save
And still I pray, when I lay down to sleep”
These little moments of vulnerability are special; they sound like private admissions, yet they emerge effortlessly from Justin’s deceptively wide vocal range, taking the form of a full-on tenor belt--the chorus on “Slow Down” cannot be overstated, and the roaring “Sideways” is just as dynamic--to a remorseful baritone voice, such as “Better Man.” And throughout it all, Furstenfeld drops plenty more lines that are wince-inducing (“I've never been responsible / But I don't give up / I make money, f*ck you”) or immensely profound (“My head's hanging low again/ But God, I could use a friend / I didn't trust no one”). There’s no inbetween, and while it can be a jarring experience, it injects a unique charm and provides an escape--the same way it allows the audience to escape from whatever imperfect, unorganized thoughts that may be pestering them.
Though Justin’s presence consistently dominates a given Blue October release, the gang behind him has sounded rejuvenated during this novel career height. Newcomer guitarist Steve Schiltz--a longtime studio collaborator and friend--is undeniably a fresh influence, especially when regarding the exuberant soloing that erupts in “Sideways” and “Down Here Waiting.” The ever-reliable Jeremy Furstenfld and Matt Noveskey continue to bolster the low-end, constructing deceptively straightforward rhythms that act as the band’s unbreakable foundation, and Ryan Delahoussaye, forever Blue October’s x-factor, furnishes each song with elaborate piano arrangements, synths, or his trademark violin. If any justification was required for
Pt. 2, it’s all there: these immensely talented performances, the touching prose, the resonating emotions long after the instruments fade. Of the collective’s multiple eras, this current one persists as their most extravagant and prosperous yet, consistently delivering compositions capable of inspiring awe, weaving into one’s heartstrings, or crafting an unforgettable earworm.
Pt. 2 more than deserves its place in the band’s discography, and it may be among their finest works today--let alone among the year’s best.
