Black Sabbath Threw The Heaviest Funeral In History Saturday For Theirs and Ozzy Osbourne's Final Show, at "Back To The Beginning" In Birmingham, England
DICLAIMER: I didn’t go to "Back To The Beginning". I wasn’t in Birmingham. I wasn’t packed into Villa Park with 50,000 screaming metalheads, sweat, eyeliner, and denim as far as the eye could see. I wasn’t in the pit with Jason Momoa, or dodging giant Sabbath-branded beach balls while my beer foamed over. I didn’t get one of those golden press passes (shout out to the few who did- you guys are unicorns, every one of you). No, I was in the UK this weekend, but I was in Cardiff Wales, taking in Oasis' reunion shows. Yes, I know. Let me hear it.)
Nope. Instead, I watched 3/4 of the Back to the Beginning stream from my iPhone, walking around the grounds of a place called Celtic Manor, trying to get 20,000 steps in. Regretably, bleary-eyed from the night before, over-caffeinated, and low-key emotional in a way I was not prepared for. And I’ll be damned if it wasn’t one of the most unforgettable, genre-defining, legacy-sealing concerts I’ve ever not attended.
Let me be clear from the jump- I’m a Guns N’ Roses guy. That’s my band. That’s who I initially tuned in for.
Just getting all my cards out on the table.
If I was choosing a Sabbath record or Appetite for Destruction, I’m going Slash and Axl 10 times outta 10. But this wasn’t just about preferences. This wasn’t a regular concert. This was a historical event. Metal’s Live Aid. A eulogy for a genre written in power chords and pyro.
The headline, of course, was the original lineup of Black Sabbath- Ozzy, Iommi, Geezer, and Bill Ward, back onstage together for one final time.
A literal once-in-a-lifetime moment. And even through an iPhone screen, you could feel the gravity. These weren't just four guys playing a few songs. These were four kids from Birmingham who had essentially invented a genre and were now saying goodbye to it. And to each other. And if you know anything about me you know that I'm sentimental when it comes to this stuff.
It wasn’t flawless. Ozzy needed to be seated on a throne the whole time (which somehow made him look more powerful), and his vocals occasionally floated off into the sky.
Buy he went out in style. "War Pigs", "N.I.B"., "Iron Man", and "Paranoid". That’s how you go out. You don’t fade away. You go down swinging, under fireworks, with 50,000 people shouting every word back at you like it’s scripture.
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This show was dubbed "the most important date in heavy metal history", and for good reason. The show was stacked with every big-time metal band you've ever heard of- Metallica, Slayer, Tool, Pantera, Ghost, Alice in Chains, Lamb of God, Gojira, Halestorm, Rival Sons, Anthrax. It was like the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame got tired of waiting and decided to just fucking crash the gig themselves.
There were highlights-
The mosh pits during Slayer's set looked terrifying yet at the same time, fun as hell.
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Jason Mamoa, (who "hosted" the event), got in on the action -
Yungblud’s emotional cover of Changes had no right to hit that hard.
Gojira playing "Under the Sun" with a soprano? Unreal.
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Tool covered "Hand of Doom"
Zakk Wylde absolutely murdering on Ozzy’s solo stuff.
Steven Tyler fronting "Walk This Way" and "Whole Lotta Love" like he signed a deal with the devil to keep his pipes intact. (Isn't that why he retired?)
Ozzy's daughter got engaged backstage in front of him.
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Metallica shredded "Hole in the Sky" and "Master of Puppets" like it was 1983 and they still hated their parents.
There were some lowlights, too. Disturbed’s David Draiman got booed like he was Roger Goodell at the NFL Draft for some reason.
Sammy Hagar and Billy Corgan sang like two guys doing bad karaoke on a cruise ship.
And Axl… I love you, man, but the falsetto days might be numbered.
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But even those flubs added to the chaotic beauty of it all. This wasn’t some sterile, Vegas-style tribute show with sterile perfection and phoned-in solos. It was messy. And still massive. And it was a love letter to a band and a sound that mattered and changed everything, for all of these other bands.
Abd as for "The Prince of Darkness" himself- he didn’t pace, he didn’t bark at the moon. He just sat there, smiling, grinning occasionally lifting himself up like he was going to float away. His voice cracked and his eyes welled up. And at one point he said, “You’ve got no fucking idea what this means to me,” and for once, it didn’t feel like rockstar theater. It felt like a man who knew he was at the end of something important and meaningful.
I loved how during "Crazy Train" the guy next to the camera was openly sobbing. It was all overwhelming in the best way. I can't imagine how it must have felt for all the die-hard fans who were there in person.
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The whole thing closed on "Paranoid", because of course it did. Even I know that that song is the title track off one of the biggest albums ever. The first UK metal album to hit number one. The one that started it all. Ozzy shouted, “Go fucking crazy, this is the last one!” and everyone lost their fuckin minds.
And then Ozzy's wife Sharon came out and helped him say goodbye.
You don’t have to be a Sabbath diehard to feel the weight of what went down at Villa Park. You just have to respect greatness when you see it.
Ozzy is famous for saying that he didn’t want "to die in a hotel room somewhere." Well he didn’t. He said goodbye at home, in Birmingham, with his family and friends beside him, and 50,000 metal fans carrying him out on their shoulders.
If that’s not how you end a career, I don’t know what is.