the sabbath to punk pipeline: 7 reflections on ozzy’s influence

Ozzy Osbourne died a Zionist, and that’s a serious bummer. He was in poor health for so long we’d banked the Pitchfork obituary several years ago. At the end of his life, he signed some bullshit letter hand in hand with his Zionist manager-slash-wife Sharon Osbourne. He was eulogized by The Jerusalem Post for his “profound connection to Israel” and The Times of Israel as someone who “stood against anti-Israel bias and antisemitism.” The voice who wailed “War Pigs,” rightly lionized as the Godfather of Heavy Metal, stood in solidarity with the absolute wrong side of history. 

This story’s played out too many times: rock icon get older, their opinions veer conservative. Ringo backed Brexit, John Lydon embraced Queen Elizabeth, and Morrissey became contemporary Morrissey. Even when people made music that changed your life, nothing excuses that kind of stain on a legacy. Free Palestine, fuck Netanyahu.

It’s a dollop of shit atop a crucial body of work. Ozzy was a Beatlemaniac who leaned into his heroes’ darkest instincts. With Black Sabbath, Randy Rhoads, and countless other collaborators, Ozzy created monolithic heavy music across decades. He terrified suburban parents and instigated a Satanic panic with a truly reckless partying legacy. There’s nothing more potent than a combination of wildly fun music, livewire performances, and the disapproval of adults. That’s why it was completely unsurprising to see a flood of tributes from punks from around the world on Instagram stories.

The metal world owes a serious debt to Ozzy and Black Sabbath. (Duh.) But in over a decade of music journalism and bullshitting with artists, Sabbath’s impact on contemporary punk bands has been as palpable as it is under-discussed. There’s a gimmick interview I did with Ty Segall in 2013, one of those “how would you soundtrack these moments of your life” type things. In the published version, he mentioned Black Sabbath twice, but in my memory, he soundtracked at least four scenarios with Sabbath and some of them ended up on the cutting room floor. 

Last year, when I interviewed 208 at Outer Limits Lounge in Hamtramck, I talked to them about how darkness and trauma was imbued in their music, which I’d been describing up to that point as “fun.” I wondered if that bothered them. “No, not necessarily, because in the end, the goal of the music from the start was to inspire people to express their own stuff,” Kyle Edmonds said at the time. “Hopefully my extreme trauma and the darkness in the music affects people like how Black Sabbath or something affected me.”

When Ozzy died, this was the version of the man I saw being mourned on social media (albeit with a heavy asterisk—see the first two paragraphs of this piece). Ozzy, with Sabbath and as a solo artist, changed the lives of countless little sickos who would go on to make crucial punk music. I asked some punks for a few words about what his music meant to them. (These contributions have all been edited for style.)

I know it sounds cliché but I wouldn't be who I am today if I had never encountered Ozzy's music. I was maybe 13 when I got his greatest hits CD (when CDs were still a thing) and I probably replayed it over a 100 times. I versed myself in Ozzy and discovered Black Sabbath who I instantly fell in love with musically and lyrically. Black Sabbath is still one of my comfort/ go to bands I love to blare full volume in my car stoned as fuck cruising down the way or in my room alone with my thoughts. It's hard to choose out of so many great songs and albums, but pretty much anything on the first six albums is mind blowingly beautiful. N.I.B is my favorite Sabbath song and Madman-era Ozzy. Sabotage and Black Sabbath are my favorite albums. — Courtney Paynter (Public Assassination)

I saw and heard Iommi playing the SG and knew that’s what I wanted to play forever. “Under the Sun / Everyday Comes and Goes” is my favorite of theirs. Smoking weed in my friends basement listening to Sabbath with all the lights off and getting scared—a wonderful feeling. The first records I bought were the first four Sabbath records, Donovan’s Mellow Yellow, and the first Nuggets comp. I traded the latter two the next week. — Drew Owen (Sick Thoughts, Total Hell)

I was fortunate enough to grow up with a “Sabbath Dad.” Where most folks my age had the Beatles playing in their childhood homes, my father was playing the darker sounds of Black Sabbath and Ozzy. By the time I made it to high school, a mutual fondness of skateboarding and Sabbath was often the foundation of numerous lifelong friendships. I often wonder where I’d be and who I’d be if it wasn’t for tritones and the words: “What is this that stands before me.” — Charles Stahl (The Stools, Painters Tapes, H8 Mile)

I became obsessed with the song “Paranoid” because of Rock n' Roll Racing for the SNES in probably like 1995—it was probably one of the first non-Weird Al songs I loved. I got a Black Sabbath t-shirt from Rockabilia (a local company I would later harass relentlessly for a Terrorizer “World Downfall” shirt) for the album Forbidden but learning he wasn’t on the album, I used white-out to make it say “is Forbidden without Ozzy.” I met a few other losers in Ozzy shirts who also were afraid of girls and we spent our summers taking bong hits using Surge instead of water, which we would later drink. As far as punk is concerned, Ozzy and Black Sabbath set me back probably a decade by turning me into a metalhead. I had to get into punk through stadium crust. If only I had known his bassist, Rob Blasko, had been in Cryptic Slaughter. — Drew Ailes (Citric Dummies)

Paris 1970 is truly unmatched. Black Sabbath left it all out on the stage with some of the most evil riffs, haunting vocals, and thunderous drums and bass lines I’ve ever heard, in 1970 no less. Watching this set for the first time as a child was foundational to how I approach playing gigs to this day; loud, uncompromising, heavy, and looking bad fucking ass the entire time. — Jolene (The Gobs)

Most musicians wouldn’t be who they are without Ozzy’s influence, and I’m no exception to that. My grandpa had a big hand in raising me and three of his favorite things are skulls, motorcycles, and Ozzy Osborne. There’s nothing better than listening to Sabbath in an old Chevy with your cool grandpa, and I’m sure those memories have shaped me in more ways than I can count. Even my other band Coupon Code does a weird, sexy, pop version of Mr. Crowley, which I hope Ozzy is fondly listening to in hell. — El (T.U.F.T.)

I REALLY heard Sabbath for the first time when I was about 6 or 7.

101.1 THE WRIF was on and they were playing “Paranoid”; my dad turned it down low to explain to me that they had accepted demons into their bodies to give them their unholy abilities to play such evil music. This made the little Baptist raised me go to my room that night and pray at the side of my bed not to God, but Satan, asking him to send a demon into my body so I could maybe go on stage one day and play heavy rock’n’roll like Sabbath did. 

Did that work? No, but it made music have an entirely new aura to me forever; it gave me the inspiration to understand the meaning and value of darker themes in art and music, courage to add a theatric element to the messages and aesthetic of the music that we make whether that translates or not. All Hail Ozzy, All Hail Black Sabbath. — Kyle Edmonds (208)

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