Throughout his wild, unpredictable career, Ozzy Osbourne was paradoxically demonized as the “Prince of Darkness” for his outrageous antics and celebrated as a loving, goofball dad on his reality TV show, “The Osbournes.” Both are caricatures of the Ozzy that play well in the mass media, but neither do justice to the man’s 55-plus-year musical legacy.
Osbourne, who died Tuesday at the age of 76, sang with Black Sabbath on what are widely considered to be the first two metal albums ever made: 1970’s “Black Sabbath” and 1971’s “Paranoid.” Ultimately he would front the legendary band through nine studio albums, the first six of which are essential listening for any serious metal fan. Osbourne later achieved multiplatinum success as a solo artist, releasing groundbreaking albums, including 1980’s “Blizzard of Ozz,” 1981’s “Diary of a Madman,” 1983’s “Bark at the Moon,” 1991’s “No More Tears” and 1995’s “Ozzmosis.”
As a vocalist, Osbourne had one of the most identifiable voices in metal.
As a vocalist, Osbourne had one of the most identifiable voices in metal. When he opened his mouth to sing in his powerful yet unconventional, nasal yowl, he did so with authority. And the sound he created became as integral to his genre as Bob Dylan’s iconoclastic voice is to classic rock.
Nothing illustrated the metal community’s love for Osbourne more than the July 5 “Back to the Beginning” tribute concert in his hometown of Birmingham, England. The triumphant event featured performances by a who’s who of metal legends spanning the history of the genre, capped with the final performances by both Black Sabbath and the Ozzy Osbourne band. The day was filled with communal reverence, love and tears. The other bands playing sets — Metallica, Tool, Guns N’ Roses, Halestorm, Alice In Chains, Pantera, Gojira, Slayer, Anthrax, Lamb of God and Mastodon — also paid their respects by playing a cover song by Sabbath or Ozzy. Other performers, including Tom Morello, Steven Tyler, Billy Corgan, K.K. Downing (Judas Priest), Nuno Bettencourt, Yungblud, Sammy Hagar and Chad Smith, formed impromptu supergroups for additional covers.
Ultimately, no one personified the glory, danger, decadence and triumphant excitement of metal like Osbourne.
It’s easy to get caught up in the theatrics of the band and the satanic content of songs like “N.I.B.” and “Black Sabbath.” Later, when he was a solo artist, Osbourne’s drug and alcohol-fueled antics earned headlines for good reason — this was a man who decapitated winged creatures (two doves, one bat) with his teeth, urinated on the Alamo and tried to strangle his wife and manager, Sharon Osbourne, when he was blackout drunk. (Osbourne was arrested but never charged for the attack.) He was a man whose demons were not manufactured or faked. That’s part of what made his performances both so authentic and so ominous.
So, too, did his origin story. Osbourne was born into poverty in Birmingham. Sharon told me he was abused as a child, and he talked about specific instances of sexual abuse in interviews. He was a scrapper who worked in a slaughterhouse as a teenager before eventually clawing his way to the top. And though he was later knocked off his pedestal and kicked out of Black Sabbath when his addictions became overwhelming, against all odds, he clambered back to center stage.
With the help of Sharon Arden (the future Sharon Osbourne), daughter of the band’s infamous and unscrupulous manager Don Arden, Osbourne achieved stardom with his solo band, which recorded legendary rock songs, including “Crazy Train,” “Mr. Crowley” and “Mama, I’m Coming Home,” and created guitar heroes out of Randy Rhoads, Jake E. Lee, Zakk Wylde and Gus G.
Through it all, Osbourne was an inspiration for the outcasts and the misfits who were told they were too weird or too crazy to make it. He could be incredibly friendly and charming, a gracious family man who genuinely loved his fans and his many dogs. But his personality was forged by the fires of counterculture, and he never truly escaped those influences.
“I was born with the attitude all or nothing,” he once told me in an interview for the book "Louder Than Hell: The Definitive Oral History of Metal." “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life and there’s one thing I’ve learned. A stupid thing has and always will have a stupid result. You cannot do a stupid thing and expect a different result. Sometimes I’ve jumped and I’ve gone, ‘That is stupid,’ and it’s too late. I’m already falling and I’ve got to crash and burn.”
Over the decades, Osbourne’s thrill-seeking behavior led to numerous brushes with death.
Over the decades, Osbourne’s thrill-seeking behavior led to numerous brushes with death. And for years, he suffered from alcoholism, which led him down a dark path. “When you drink, that’s when you become Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde because I honestly didn’t know [what I was doing], and that was the biggest fear I had because I had become a blackout drinker,” he told me. “It was horrendous. I was just waking up and thinking, ‘What the f--- have I done now?’ You wake up covered in blood and you don’t know where the blood’s come from?”
Even after he got sober, he took risks. In 2003, while riding an ATV through uneven terrain on his 150-acre estate in Buckinghamshire, he hit a bump, and the vehicle flipped over. He later told Diane Sawyer, “I got on the bike and the last thing I remember, something in my mind went, ‘bad move. Something really bad is gonna happen.’” The accident left him with pins in his back and neck. Sixteen years later, a severe fall dislodged those pins and re-aggravated the old injury, which would start a grueling series of health setbacks for the icon. He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease soon after, as well as chronic emphysema.
And yet, Osbourne wasn't done. He released two more albums jam-packed with stars, including Slash, Elton John, Eric Clapton and Tony Iommi.
The world of metal is filled with instability, excess and ear-shattering volume. But the voice that launched a million bands occupies a unique place amid the madness, screaming into the void — our forever prince of darkness.