So farewell Ozzy Osbourne. Rock legend. Brummie legend. Clown prince. Arch villain and proper Villan. RIP.
It seems fitting that the news of his death followed so closely on from the big reunion show that had all the hallmarks of a last-hurrah for Black Sabbath, a band whose legacy gives them that pivotal and unique place in musical history, genuinely deserving the legend tag. They sounded like nothing else, unleashing a debut album in 1970 that instantly gained a huge audience and set a whole new scene in motion. Heavy Metal music from the heavy metal, industrial heartlands of Birmingham.
For many of those hitting their teenage years in the early 70s, music was hugely important. The revolution that had really started just five or six years earlier had seen music exploding out in many different directions. Psychedelia had come and not gone, but morphed into the first flushes of progressive rock, while in the US Iron Butterfly had seriously amped it up with a hard rock sound. The blues driven bands had gained extra muscle with Cream, Jimi Hendrix and the Yardbirds, who had lost yet another guitar hero to the newly formed Led Zeppelin. Meanwhile, Deep Purple had assembled their classic Mk II line up and also amped up to 11, in the hope of transforming their fortunes.
Influenced by all of this alongside The Beatles and the likes of Jethro Tull, who Tony Iommi briefly joined, a Birmingham based four piece changed their names from Earth to Black Sabbath. The song of the same name came first and was apparently inspired by the boom in horror movies and the literary works of Dennis Wheatly, Lovecraft and Poe. The song’s riff is based on the tritone, or so-called devil’s interval, an awkward harmonic dissonance that has a gloomy, doomy feel. It creates Tony Iommi’s punishing riff, overlayed by the opening lines of “What is this that stands before me? Figure in black, which points at me,” howled out in Ozzy’s menacing tones. Attention grabbing? Hell yeah! Genre defining in fact, setting a template that many would try and follow.
For me, in the early throws of secondary school, common musical ground was established and the first holy trinity of Zeppelin, Sabbath, Purple was irrefutable. My own first LP was Led Zeppelin II and I bought Purple’s Black Night and Fireball as singles. One of my closest friends, John, had an older sister and they covered off the first two Sabbath albums. She also clung on to Hendrix, Cream, The Stones, Jefferson Airplane, Santana and King Crimson, gently pushing them into our musical orbit. On Top of the Pops, we craved appearances by T Rex, Slade and anything that might be classed as rock.
My dad also encouraged my burgeoning musical interest as my parents had followed The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel and had the radio on constantly, having bought good hi-fi separates too. In 1971 he took me to see The Moody Blues, who he loved, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer touring Pictures at an Exhibition, who he didn’t. He even joined a record club at his work and brought home CSNY’s Déjà Vu and Zappa’s Hot
Rats. I took to both immediately, the cover of Hot Rats was enough, but the former opened up Neil Young and After the Goldrush in particular. My dad even encouraged me to listen to Top Gear, presented by John Peel, and would record it on reel to reel for me, but eventually, simply allowed me to stay up late on Thursday. From that came John Mclaughlin’s Devotion, which was added to a small but quickly expanding collection of LPs.
That collection quickly took other wayward turns and before the end of 72 I’d acquired the first Osibisa album, Man Be Good to Yourself at Least Once a Day and their self-titled third release, Gentle Giant’s Octopus, the first two Stackridge albums, Relics by Pink Floyd and Duane Allman’s Anthology all added to the afore mentioned ELP, Zeppelin, Zappa, McLaughlin, CSNY, Neil Young and albums by Ralph McTell, Cat Stevens, Lindisfarne, Fairport Convention and pre Year of the Cat Al Stewart. My dad added The Moodies, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, James Taylor, George Harrison, John Lennon and the delightfully curious soundtrack to Zabriski Point.
I was just getting started. But do you know what? No Sabbath. I just never bought any. My Friend John still has his original copy of Masters of Reality and I can clearly remember having Volume IV (released in September 72) at home, but borrowed as part of the regular trade of LPs at school, where the new holy trinity of Yes, Genesis, Camel had already taken hold.
My own musical tastes also took another twist that year, on what proved to be my penultimate family seaside holiday. We went to Ramsgate and stayed in a place managed by my Dad’s Trade Union. There were other lads of a similar age to me there and we hung out together, but they were into Philly Soul and one of them had a little Hanimex tape player with a couple of compilation tapes. I acquired a taste that stayed with me into Disco and beyond, adding to and never replacing the above.
Somewhere in there was The Old Grey whistle Test, again courtesy of my dad opening another door. In 73 I embraced the Canterbury Scene, Gong, Kevin Ayers, Hatfield and the North, Krautrock in the shape of Can, Faust, Guru Guru, Kraan and the very early Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream, jazz rock and fusion, Van Der Graaf Generator, Henry Cow, but also Steely Dan, The Allman brothers, Eagles, Traffic and following their appearance on The Old Grey Whistle Test, Bob Marley and the Wailers.
That year also saw the release of the last Black Sabbath album I can remember hearing at all, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, and it does have a couple of cracking tracks on it. For me, however, heavy metal just never became my thing, so this is where the accompanying playlist ends. It is dishonest to add tracks I simply don’t know personally
Sabbath’s legacy, however, is without doubt and works it way into so much music that I do love, Ozzy alongside Bill Ward, Tony Iommi and Geezer Butler he created something unique. Legend! Bloody legend!
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