The passage of time is strange. One minute you’re crate digging for a Fugazi tape at the local record store, and years later, you’re the guy with gray in his beard, noticing a kid in a Misfits hoodie who’s never owned a CD but knows his “She Rides” because the TikTok algorithm keeps feeding them Danzig. Have no fear though. The kids are alright, they’re just getting their metal from TikTok now.
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Music is like an emotional sledgehammer to our lives; it’s the soundtrack to moments, to milestones. Everyone has those songs that, upon hearing them, transport them back in time. Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” is that time machine for many, a raucous small rip of mind fuck that fuels speeding cars, hot sex, or wild montages of cocaine and whiskey medicine. It’s a few moments of perfection, which the band never intended to be anything but album filler. That’s the majesty of the band – they created a genre: Heavy Metal. And the four lads from Birmingham experienced their fruits in real-time. Yesterday, Ozzy Osbourne, the King of Metal, passed on
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Someone online said something profound about Ozzy’s final performance with Black Sabbath at Villa Park in their hometown of Birmingham, England on July 5: they called him a tired king. And as that tired king looked out over his court, with the whole world watching, he gave one last welcome to those still loyal to his heavy metal kingdom.
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