Black Sabbath frontman Ozzy Osbourne didn’t just invent heavy metal – he gave it depth, humour, and heart. As the music world mourns his passing, 11 artists and lifelong fans reflect on a one-of-a-kind voice that redefined dark music and made the loudest sounds feel deeply human.
There are some deaths that confirm what we already knew about certain artists – their impact, their legacy, their influence – and there are others that transcend that. Ozzy Osbourne has been one of the latter examples since his passing earlier this week. Osbourne and Black Sabbath may forever be synonymous with pioneering heavy metal, a genre that exists in that rare position of being both niche yet insanely popular, but it’s clear in the wake of his death just how far that influence has spread. In the last couple of days, everyone from glossy pop stars to experimental musicians, rappers and techno DJs has paid tribute. Those bludgeoning riffs, doom-laden basslines, pummelling drums and shrieking vocals have infiltrated deep and wide into contemporary music’s sprawling lineage.
Context is crucial for understanding the significance and impact of Black Sabbath. When they released their self-titled debut album in 1970, the number one album in the UK was Simon & Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water. Punk was years away, the androgyny of glam yet to materialise, as was the moral panic that came with both, and here comes a group making music that, to many, is genuinely terrifying. Something that sounds like it’s come up from beneath the earth. Such was the stark shock of that record – and this new sound that was so deeply imbued with unsettling atmospherics, bone-shaking riffs, and a voice that sounded like it was coming from beyond – that some people were even afraid to look at it. We arguably take dark, loud, heavy, moody music for granted now – it’s ubiquitous – but Sabbath created a shock and awe of such magnitude that its reverberations can still be felt rumbling over half a century later.
Here, a mix of musicians, producers, and film directors, who embody just how far that reach has stretched, pay tribute to a true original.
Warren Ellis
Musician and composer
When I was a kid, my brother brought home Paranoid, and it was like he brought this whole new world into the house. Then, when he got the self-titled record – I must have been around nine – we were too scared to even look at the cover. Records carried such weight back then. They were dark and scary, but there was also something really exciting about them. They were a real formative part of my childhood. I didn’t know it was a bunch of kids coming out of working-class Birmingham. I grew up in the suburbs, in a country town that kind of resembled Mad Max, and I don’t know why they spoke to us, but they did. There was something about the simple bludgeoning, but they were so musical too. They were the reason that music got into the house. When I was 15, I was in a band called Paranoid. We could only play three songs, one of which was Paranoid. They got kids picking up guitars and playing. They aligned people together – the misplaced. Greasy, long-haired kids in glasses could suddenly become a fucking hero if they played this kind of music. And music had a very different currency back then. It was just blood and guts; it was so fucking important in life.
I only met him once at the Mojo Awards. I went to go for a piss and I got into the toilet, and there was Ozzy, trying to have a leak. There were only two urinals, so I walked up to have a piss next to him, and his bouncer came up and stood in front of me and went, “Nobody pisses next to Ozzy.” I was like, “Fair enough, but I’m gonna fucking piss myself.” Ozzy just looked up and goes, “Fucking let him piss.” That was my run-in with the king of fucking darkness.
I didn’t go to the last show, but I watched it and was moved to tears. I found it so moving seeing this big heart of his. It was just unbelievably beautiful. I can’t tell you the last time I was so moved. My kids were texting me during it, too. The first tunes I ever played for them were Black Sabbath. So Ozzy was this link back to when they were kids, and they still love him. I just sat and listened to every record in line yesterday, twice, with my dog, and felt this beautiful melancholy about his passing that I haven’t felt for a while. This was really different. It went right back to my family. My brother got in touch with me, too. Black Sabbath connected us all. They’re part of my DNA and my family. I’ve actually got a little tear in my eye now talking about it. I loved that guy so much. Ozzy was like our Elvis.
"When I was 15, I was in a band called Paranoid. We could only play three songs, one of which was 'Paranoid'" - Warren Ellis
Daniel Avery
Music producer, composer and DJ
When I was about ten, I became obsessed with a Nirvana cassette someone had given me. My dad saw this and one day said, “You should try listening to this Black Sabbath record.” It was their first album, and I still have such a strong memory of the vinyl crackle turning into the falling rain. I was transfixed and worked my way through those first six records in order. I haven’t stopped listening to them since. It’s pretty striking when a band invents and perfects a genre in one attempt. RIP Ozzy – truly a unique and inspiring legend.
Penelope Spheeris
Director of the music documentary trilogy, 'Decline of Western Civilisation'
Ozzy was always extremely anxious before going on stage. Sharon would often ask me to calm him down, as evidenced in The Decline Part II. Ozzy was hilarious. The three of us tried to make a comedy feature starring Ozzy, but financiers insisted he wasn’t funny. So when we filmed the 1999 Ozzfest, We Sold Our Souls for Rock ‘n Roll, I tried to bring out his true essence. Yes, he was a comedic genius, but mostly a profoundly talented, sensitive, loving, kind and gentle human being. With every performance, he truly gave all his heart and soul to the fans. He loved them so much. There will never be another Ozzy.
Marissa Nadler
Musician and visual artist
I fell in love with Ozzy and Black Sabbath at 15. It changed my musical trajectory. I was writing songs and into grunge, and the first guy that broke my heart gave me a cassette of Masters of Reality. The sinister riffage inspired me to get heavy and embrace the gloom. He made darkness beautiful, approachable and sexy. I never tire of listening to those albums. As melodic as they are edgy, they are truly classic and eternal. He was truly groundbreaking and a total badass. The world will miss him.
Andy Votel
Musician and DJ
The ability to get away with rhyming the word ‘masses’ with the word ‘masses’ as an opening gambit is just one example of the kind of hall pass Ozzy Osborne’s majesty has commanded amongst a zillion instant converts-cum-lifelong disciples. Promoted from his former day job as a professional ‘cat burglar’ to the Prince of Darkness is testimony to his transformative abilities and Machiavellian goofball charm. A master of illusion and reality who never betrayed his kitchen sink savoir-faire.
Despite being titularly inspired by European horror cinema, there would never be a film committed to celluloid that could subsequently match the weight of the conceptual darkness heard in Black Sabbath’s (then experimental) music. To even begin to narrate their uncharted dark waters as both mortal author (co-writer) and actor justifies Ozzy’s monarchical status despite his humble Brummie stature as the least likely or credible candidate. The undeniable fact that the first ever recorded voice of the heavy metal idiom was never bettered, nor rivalled, is probably unique to any musical genre and a testimony to his eternal legacy. Rest In Paranoia, our Spiral Architect.
"The ability to get away with rhyming the word “masses” with the word “masses” as an opening gambit is just one example of the kind of hall pass Ozzy Osborne’s majesty has commanded amongst a zillion instant converts-cum-lifelong disciples" - Andy Votel
© Daniil Zozulya
Lord Spikeheart
Metal artist
The world has lost one of the most gifted musicians in recent human history. Rest in Power, Price of Darkness, Ozzy Osbourne, Lord of Lords. Thank you for inspiring me to pursue heavy music as a calling. I first got into Black Sabbath and Ozzy when I was in high school. I watched their live performance of War Pigs in Paris from the 70s, and I couldn’t stop coming back to it. Seeing Ozzy’s passion and drive on stage over the years, as he was one with the music, made you feel it more. He was, and still is, one of my major influences as an artist and performer, and his legendary works, songwriting and voice will live on forever. Thank you, godfather of heavy metal, for the power, the passion, the humour. May his memory and life never be forgotten.
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© Tia Payne
Randy Heyer
a.k.a. Raygun Busch, Chat Pile vocalist
Though it certainly wasn’t the first time I heard Ozzy or Black Sabbath, the initial moment I really received the message was around 1999. My buddy and I were at a church camp retreat all weekend, and he had a new CD to show me: Paranoid. We had, of course, been brought in by the proto-punk stylings of the title track, but we weren’t prepared for how badass War Pigs is. Who is? All told, that record got listened to around ten times that weekend. Master of Reality was purchased by Monday. Twenty years later, I joined Chat Pile. Coincidence?
David Wrench
Musician, writer, producer and mixer
To find a comparison to the greatness and cultural impact of those first six Sabbath albums and first Ozzy solo LPs, you have to look to recognised musical giants like Miles Davis or Dylan. It’s too easy to dismiss him as a lovable loon, but he’s way more than that. Those records invented a whole major genre – itself often dismissed by musical snobs – then went on to define it, and redefine it. You don’t do that by accident. We will never see another frontman like him. There’s too much self-awareness now, and any future Ozzy would have their work cut out navigating the current streaming-data-obsessed record industry that often appears to be geared towards filtering out the likes of him. When my band goes on tour, Blizzard of Ozz is always the first record in the van. It’s such a joyous album, the sound of Ozzy and Randy Rhoads inspiring each other. It’s a record that reminds me that making music should be fun.
© Tyler Krippaehne
Jadu Heart
Experimental band
In our basement studio, we used to have a photo of Ozzy stapled to a wooden gravestone we found. He would watch over us as we wrote and keep us in line. Black Sabbath were known as the pioneers of heavy metal music, but often it was the softer, more introspective Ozzy we fell in love with. Changes, Solitude and Planet Caravan are all songs that soundtracked our university afterparties, as we told stories of Ozzy’s wild antics. A Brummie legend and a hero of magical nihilism, his charm and genius will continue to reverberate through the sound of modern music.
"A Brummie legend and a hero of magical nihilism, his charm and genius will continue to reverberate through the sound of modern music" - Jadu Heart
© Ashley Bourne
Alex Hill
Musician in Bristol-based band Scaler
I don’t remember when I first heard Ozzy’s music, but I do remember a very distinct feeling that ‘this is where it started’. Any heavy, scary or evil music I was discovering as a kid, whenever I’d follow it back, I would always end up at Sabbath. I was lucky enough to attend the final Ozzy and Sabbath show, and there were tears in my eyes from the moment he appeared on stage. We witnessed a truly iconic, one-of-a-kind artist, whose influence cannot be overstated, give us one last show. Seeing him finish his incredible story on his own terms, surrounded by family, friends and fans, was beautiful and heartbreaking.
Dylan Carlson
Guitarist and founder of drone metal band Earth
At one point, my first year of high school, all I did was listen to Black Sabbath. No one playing rock music, especially in the “heavy” end of the pool, would be here today without Black Sabbath paving the way. Reviled by critics (take a look at how rags like Rolling Stone wrote about them back in the day) but beloved by the audience, Ozzy and his bandmates created a body of work that I return to again and again. Post-Sabbath, some of the greatest guitarists were given a place to shine next to Ozzy. I was fortunate to see him on stage with Randy Rhoads on the Diary of a Madman tour and his first run with Zakk Wylde on the No More Tears tour.
I know many younger folk will probably remember him more as a television personality and purveyor of reality show shenanigans, and that he was as well, but I will remember the music. That was the most important part – four kids from Birmingham who worked hard and changed their lives, and the world, through the power of great music.
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