In High School, maybe 9th or 10th grade, I had a friend named Irfan. I wish I could remember where he was from. He was a devout Muslim, but he also loved to rock out to Heavy Metal, so we became pals. We would sit in the back of the class, sharing headphones connected to my knock-off Walkman. One of his favorites was Ozzy Osbourne, so we would rock out to Bark at the Moon, or Blizzard of Ozz. (Irfan also really loved the Circle Jerks, for some odd reason). His favorite exclamation was “Ozzy is the devil! He is the devil!” He did not say this in fear, but in admiration, which cracked me up, because this guy was most definitely NOT into satanic shit, but he admired Ozzy’s ability to freak people out. So did I.
I cannot place the first time I became aware of Ozzy Osbourne. It was likely watching MTV in the early 80’s, seeing the Black Sabbath videos for Paranoid and Iron Man. I learned the myths of Ozzy through the heavy metal and hard rock magazines of the day: Creem, Hit Parader, Metal Edge, and Circus for the most part. When MTV decided to promote Heavy Metal music, they did so with a daily show called Hard 30. Out of 24 hours of insipid programming, they deigned to allow 4-5 videos in a 30-minute format. It was pathetic, but I LOVED IT! That show evolved into a weekly series on Saturday nights, titled Headbangers Ball, a two hour show I caught after everyone fell asleep at home.
As a 11-12 year old, some of Ozzy’s videos and record covers scared the crap out of me. The makeup effects Ozzy wore for the Bark at the Moon video were amazing, and freaky. The cover for Blizzard of Oz was sacrilegious and funny at the same time. The myth of Ozzy spread through word-of-mouth, before the internet and social media. If you saw someone with an Ozzy or Sabbath shirt you could strike up a conversation. That’s how I first heard of him taking a leak on the Alamo (he didn’t actually piss on the Alamo mission, but on a wall/fence that circles the grounds of the Alamo, either way, redneck Texans were pissed and Ozzy was “banned” from San Antonio) and of how Ozzy bit the head off a bat while on stage (something he actually did, after a fan threw a dead bat at him during a concert. Ozzy assumed it was a fake, and bit the head off, only to have his mouth fill with disgusting ichor. He suffered multiple rounds of rabies shots due to this incident.) The stories were endless, sensational, and engrossing.
The Ozzy of those stories clashed with the Ozzy I saw on stage, anytime MTV aired live concert footage (something they did regularly back when music mattered). On stage, Ozzy was the MAN! He would jump, and shout, and sing every word perfectly! His on-stage banter became my very favorite, for he would frequently yell at the crowd of throbbing metal-heads uplifting affirmations such as, “You are the greatest people!” and “We love you all!!” This was not the evil man portrayed in the legend. This was a man who loved to rock out with his bandmates, bringing a hype show to a crowd of fanatics. Ozzy actually cared about his fans, in a way that felt almost dorky compared to the ineffable coolness that most heavy metal frontmen tried to portray. Ozzy was goofy! He would leap into the air, clapping his hands, throwing up peace signs. He was having the same amount of fun onstage as he wished us to have in the audience. That is a very rare thing.
Sometime during the late 1980’s, I started a Church of David Letterman with my friend Hernan Antonio Villalobos (sacrilege has always been a hobby of mine). Letterman was our sardonic god, and we chose 12 disciples from the many people we admired for their originality, unassuming wisdom, and “fuck you” attitudes. The list included names such as Kurt Vonnegut, Lemmy Kilmister, and of course, Ozzy Osbourne. Ozzy never talked down to interviewers, or his fans. In the Penelope Spheeris film Decline of Western Civilization Part II, Ozzy takes center stage. One of the things he said has stuck with me all my life. When asked what advice he would give to young wanna-be rock stars, he replied, “You meet a lot of people on the way up. Don't fuck them; because you meet them on the way down as well.” This is timeless wisdom, shared honestly, and it applies to every field of human endeavor. I loved him for it.
No one ever sounded like Ozzy, and no one will ever sound like Ozzy. His voice is as recognizable in the history of western popular music as Elvis, Barry White, or his idol Paul McCartney. While Ozzy did not write many Black Sabbath lyrics, he delivered them with a passion and a forthrightness that makes your arm hairs stand on end. One of my favorite lines, penned by bassist Geezer Butler for the classic track Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, goes like this, “Nobody will ever let you know / When you ask the reasons why / They just tell you that you're on your own / Fill your head all full of lies, you bastards!” He really means the YOU BASTARDS part.
Many fans throughout the years have shared how much Sabbath, and Ozzy’s solo work, meant to them, helping them get through tough times in a world that seemingly does not care. I was one of them. Ozzy was our Heavy Metal guiding light, our fearless leader, still down-to earth, even when he made millions, and became a reality TV sensation. The world fell in love with Ozzy because he was himself, all the time. What an amazing example of a self-made human in a world of false greed and selfishness.
I watched the entire 11+ hours of the Back to the Beginning concert held just over a year ago, about 2 weeks before Ozzy passed. To see bands big and small pay tribute to Sabbath and to Ozzy made me emotional. Every single act on that stage, Guns N’ Roses, Metallica, Slayer, Mastodon, Anthrax, Gojira, Pantera, and more, owed their sonic existence to Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne. Watching them perform Sabbath classics and deep cuts alike made me so happy. I wish I could have been there in person.
Once the big acts did their thing, it was time for Ozzy to get on stage. Seated on the heavy metal throne created for his Rock n Roll Hall of Fame ceremony due to advanced Parkinson’s keeping him from standing properly, I wondered what he would sound like. As soon as he started in on his classic solo track “I Don’t Know” I knew the world was in for a treat. Ozzy’s inimitable vocal tone cut through the night and showed the world how an artist properly goes out on top. Just days before, doctors warned him against performing, but Ozzy would not hear of it. His fans, and fellow musicians, awaited his performance.
When his bandmates in Black Sabbath, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler, and Bill Ward, arrived on stage to culminate this amazing, once-in-a-lifetime concert, It felt like the entire metal world was paying attention. They blasted our ears and minds with 4 classic Sabbath tracks, and the concert was over, a massive triumph. Musicians who took part all said that magic was in the air that night, that Ozzy pulled up his last bit of awesomeness to share with the world. Many were moved to joyous tears at the sight.
Coming off this amazing high, it was a terrible shock to hear of Ozzy’s passing just 11 days after the concert. Ozzy was one of us, one of the good ones, always ready to help out a young up-and-coming band, or a young musician. He always made time for his fans, never condescending to them. He cared about us and we cared about him. It is now the anniversary of his passing, and I still get emotional thinking about it. Very few cultural figures elicit this reaction from me. Ozzy deserves it all and more. His music will live on in the ears and minds of anyone who honestly listens without prejudice. I would not be who I am if Ozzy had never existed, and the world would be a far shittier place. Rest in peace Ozzy. We loved you right back.
