RIP to the incomparable Ozzy Osbiourne.
Black Sabbath legend Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness, dead at 76
Ozzy Osbourne, the legendary Prince of Darkness and one of heavy metal’s most iconic stars, has died. He was 76.He died “surrounded by love,” his family said in a statement to The Post Tuesday. “It is with more sadness than mere words can convey that we have to report that our beloved Ozzy Osbourne has passed away this morning. He was with his family and surrounded by love. We ask everyone to respect our family privacy at this time. Sharon, Jack, Kelly, Aimee and Louis.”
News of Osbourne’s death comes more than five years after he announced his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis in January 2020.
Born John Michael Osbourne in Birmingham, England, on Dec. 3, 1948, he was nicknamed “Ozzy” in primary school.
He had a challenging childhood, but music provided him with an outlet.
Learning was difficult for him due to dyslexia, and the future Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee claimed to have been sexually abused by bullies when he was 11. He also recalled attempting suicide as a teen.
Osbourne credited The Beatles and their 1964 song “She Loves You” for inspiring him to pursue a music career.
Ozzy sold over 100 million albums as a solo artist and a member of Black Sabbath.
Here’s a 1970 vid in which Black Sabbath demonstrates what performers mean when they talk about leaving absolutely everything they have on the floor of the stage.
Rest easy, Ozzy. The world has never known another quite like you, and almost certainly never will again.
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In the early 1970s, if your parents found out you were listening to Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, etc., they just knew that someday soon you were going to be found face down in a ditch, dead, with a syringe in your arm…
RIP, Ozzy.
When I was a kid, my parents put up with Iron Butterfly, Steppenwolf, DPurp, and Sabbath without too much in the way of complaint–well, except for all the “God damns” in “The Pusher,” that is.
No, the straw that finally broke the camel’s back for them was when I brought home a George Carlin album–this one, I believe it was. My old man heard about five (5) minutes of it before he slapped the turntable arm out of the grooves, snatched the LP off the platter and shoved it back into its sleeve, and instructed me in no uncertain terms that I was to march my smart ass right on back down to Uncle Gene’s drugstore forthwith and get my money back, and he did NOT mean slow.
My pop didn’t say “ass,” of course. As it happens, I heard the ol’ man slip up and let an unintended “shit” fly one time many years later, when I’d stopped in at the Mt Holly office-space he shared with an old friend of his to say hello. Can’t recall what the context for my father’s atypical lapse into the coarse vernacular was; the memorable thing was how casually he’d tossed the word off, as if “shit” had been a perfectly unremarkable part of the father-son dialogue right along.
Upon realizing his vile traducement of all that is holy my dad’s face, neck, and ears flushed about seventeen shades of vermilion; he gulped and gasped for air like a landed fish; he went mute for almost a full minute, after which awkward interlude we both regained our composure and carried on as if nothing untoward had just passed between us.
The “shit” incident, by unspoken mutual agreement, was never spoken of again. Neither, alas, was George Carlin, although I know for a fact Dad eventually came to really enjoy his work, and never missed an episode of his short-lived Sunday night TV sitcom.
This talk of comedy, comedians, and the s-word reminds me of a great old Redd Foxx routine I heard way back when. Been poking around for it on YewToob, but haven’t come across it as of yet:
Gotta hear it in that unmistakable Redd Foxx growl. I’ll keep looking on the ‘Toob, it’s just too danged funny not to be out there somewhere.
We didn’t have an FM radio anywhere so I probably saw kids in Black Sabbath T Shirts before I ever heard their music.
These were the kids your parents warned you about. “Stay away from _____________, he’s No Good”
Around ’75 they bought me a record player that had an FM receiver built in a d two small speakers.
I can’t recall if I heard Iron Man or Paranoid first while listening to Scott Muni for the Beatles he always played almost every 4th song.
Both songs…
Blew.
My.
Mind.
“These were the kids your parents warned you about.”
Probably not 100%, but likely right for the most part 🙂