Never Say Disc: Ozzy Osbourne

I’m sure we don’t have to tell you, and our recent post schedule is a reminder -  it’s been a week. It’s been a month, a year. The crushing horror of the daily news makes our daily struggles harder, more draining… and then it only gets worse, in ways you don’t see coming. One of the ways it came this week was the death of John Michael “Ozzy” Osbourne. It’s hit the both of us at Never Say Dice quite hard. Ozzy’s work was a lodestone for both of us, something we’d visit time and again, together and as individuals. We attended multiple Ozzfests together. These “Never Say Disc” posts were begun specifically as a way for us to talk about the anniversary of Black Sabbath’s debut album. Ozzy’s also been family tradition - we both have older siblings who created the space for us to begin our own explorations and from which this one man’s music and, yes, philosophy, would be a constant for both our lives. And now he’s gone. If this medium bears any aspect of who we are, it’s vital that we use it to express how much Ozzy’s work means, and has meant, to us. - B

A Side: How do you begin to write something like a eulogy for a person you never knew? I suppose religious leaders do this all the time, gathering information from loved ones of the deceased and piecing something together mixed with their own personal religious leanings. You just muck around and do your best, I suppose... and the results will vary. I could wax philosophical once again about how how Black Sabbath was likely the original influence that told me I, personally, could be a musician - even a part-time one (at least I’m not still using Hit Stix or a borrowed bass). I could again delve into the connections between Sabbath and Dungeons and Dragons, which is appropriate for a (mostly) gaming blog, but we’ve tread that ground before. You could easily go back and read our earlier Black Sabbath or Ozzy posts (or future posts, since you know they'll be featured here again). How do you write a eulogy for a music legend though? 

Of course, at least as far as I know, neither of us ever met Ozzy. All we have to go on are the stories we've read, and our own experiences with his work. It would have been impossible for me to see the original incarnation of Black Sabbath, or even Ozzy's legendary early solo career, in person - what with either being not alive or just a baby. I do feel fortunate enough though to have seen both in concert multiple times through Ozzfest. Black Sabbath, and Ozzy by extension, have both been a part of my life for almost as long as I can remember, thanks, as Bugsy pointed out, to an older sibling and cousins who were fans before me. It would have been an honor, but also nearly impossible, to attend the final show in person. Fortunately, in the bleak and horrible future we live in, I’ve been able to consume livestream content of the concert, and queue up documentaries to watch, in addition to hours of music and a biography to crack open. For those who don’t know an artist personally, at the very least experiencing their content can bring you a better understanding of them, or at least the things they wanted to convey. From his music, or at least what I get from it, it's that while Ozzy was no prophet or leader (don’t look at him for answers), he knew about the struggles of life and of wanting to be more than you are. Perhaps I’ve missed messages from his music entirely, but all we can do is interpret art, even music, for ourselves... and maybe believe in foolish miracles. We can strive to find our own answers, to avoid the things that drag us down, and to just try and be people worthy of those that we surround ourselves with : family, friends, and maybe even fans. 

Experiencing their art and work isn’t the only way to know someone you’ve never met, though, as I noted earlier. Not surprisingly, all of my regular media feeds (social and otherwise) have been filled with Ozzy-related material. News articles, blogs, videos - everything right down to the type of cologne he liked to wear. (Do I want to smell like Ozzy? Not at those prices. Should I have preferred a cologne of my own? Even in death, Ozzy may still be changing me as a person.) One picture becomes clear from these interviews and stories: Ozzy was just your average bloke who wanted to have a bit of a laugh. It appears he was always pulling practical jokes or taking the piss. Dragging along various items on dog leads instead of a dog. Pranking his fellow performers with stink bombs, or by changing the gaff taped directions to the stage. He just wanted to have some fun and make music, "Prince of Darkness" or not. Even the words he predicted in his autobiography that would be his epitaph: "He Bit the Head off a Bat." Something that Ozzy has always said he expected to be a fake at the time, and I’m sure he always considered to be just another another humorous jape... rabies shots and all. What looks to be the line they might actually use as an inscription is “Let the Madness Begin.” I’d offer a few that I think (though, again, my opinion counts for little in this horserace) Ozzy would approve of:  “I Tell You to Enjoy life - I Wish I Could, But it’s Too Late,” “Fuck Off You Fucking Bastards,” or, perhaps the most appropriate, if the least funny “God Bless You All, and Good Night!” 

B Side: Since I first heard the news, I find myself thinking back to something Ronnie James Dio, of all people, said concerning the reality series The Osbournes. He expressed it a few different ways in a few different interviews, but essentially said that he felt Ozzy "deserved better," and that he saw a clear distinction between the "Prince of Darkness," father of heavy metal and a figure he deeply respected, and Ozzy the man. By presenting the latter in such a comical and mocking light, it was desecrating the former. Now, if anyone had a right to have issues with Ozzy the man, it was Dio - Ozzy was quite acerbic during Dio's time with Black Sabbath, making cutting remarks about his replacement personally. Dio, likewise, lashed out in defence of the work he had put in to make the band something unique and different. Even them though, there was a deep respect for Ozzy as a musician, a creator, and even as a public figure.

It's a distinction I find deeply interesting, because, at least from my perspective as a relative latecomer (see Andy's previous statements re: not being born and/or being a baby), there was never much of a difference - maybe it would have been different if I'd been around for the MTV era and Satanic Panic. By the time I came onboard, it was clear he wasn't playing a character. Like his contemporary Iggy Pop (the first Stooges album came out only six months before the first Sabbath album), Ozzy was Ozzy, onstage and off. It's deeply significant that Ozzy couldn't sing, not like his contemporaries, and certainly not like the expectations of rock audiences or the industry. Andy certainly wasn't the first person who felt like he'd be able to music himself because of Ozzy - he's just part of a long, long tradition that includes not only metalheads, but the first generation of punks: the Ramones were huge Sabbath fans, as, ultimately, was I.

Can I pinpoint the moment I went from Black Sabbath fan to worshipper? Probably not, it certainly happened in stages. I went from casual fan to devoted fan around the time I was first picking up bass and guitar, listening to the first two albums on my Walkman regularly as I worked in the photography class darkroom at my Community College. I got the imported remasters of the first five albums, the ones everyone had said were the "good ones," even though it meant replacing CDs I already spent money on. And for years, I listened to those a lot, enjoying them to fullest extent a fan of music can. I even, concluding that it was silly to skip records made by the best lineup of one of my favorite bands without even hearing them, made peace with those later "lesser" albums from the end of Ozzy's time in Sabbath, something I highly recommend all fans do - Ozzy's vocal style clearly shifts on Technical Ecstasy away from his earlier Sabbath approach to the one he'd take on his own records going forward... very much a "missing link" for those of us who had been skipping from Sabbath, Bloody, Sabbath or Sabotage straight to Blizzard of Ozz and/or Sabbath's Dio years. But worship... that came a bit later.

It probably hit when I was, for the first time, the guitarist in a full and ongoing band. (Disco Stu was, usually, just me and Andy when we could get together - a different kind of beast.)  It was a wholly new experience, very different from my time on bass, and I was trying to find ways to make myself mesh with a people who had been playing together for years. It was somewhere around this time, when I was going through a lot of music on the drive to and from Baltimore for practice, that Sabbath suddenly opened up, revealing new vistas I'd never imagined. These, I finally intuited beyond simple awareness, were people four people who knew each other. They played constantly in the early years, and it showed. Every single one knows exactly where the others were at all time, a perfect harmonious machine - listen to any of the isolated tracks if you can, and you'll hear what I'm talking about as they guide and make room for each other. The embodied the spaceI was looking for, and, I hope, helped me find a place within it for myself. This applies not only to the instrumentalists, but to Ozzy as well - he was as vital an alchemical element as the other three.  And he did it honestly, and without compromise. That was his approach to music and to life. The past few years, I've been taking on lead vocals more often, and likewise gaining ever more from studying his work. 

I firmly believe that the greatest praise you can give an artist is that, in doing things their own way, they inspire others to try it themselves. That they remain unique and distinct, yet inspirational and influential. There aren't many people like that left in this world, at least not the ones that have influenced me. Now there's one less, but as long as we learn from, and, even more importantly, enjoy his work, he'll never be truly gone. You can't kill rock and roll, as the man once, said, it's here to stay... and so is he.

Send questions, comments, and classic Sabbath live bootlegs (really!) to  neversaydice20@gmail.com.