Saturday, August 02, 2025

about “Into the Void: From Birth to Black Sabbath—And Beyond” by Geezer Butler

On July 5, 2025, Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath performed together live for last time. Ozzy could no longer walk because of Parkinson's. Ozzy died about two weeks laterTuesday, July 22. That was the end.

Guitar player Tony Iommi, drummer Bill Ward, bassist Geezer Butler, and singer Ozzy Osbourne formed Black Sabbath in Birmingham, 1968. Osbourne was fired in 1979. The band carried on a while with other singers—including Ronnie James Dio—but Ozzy-era Sabbath is the real Sabbath.

I listened to “We Sold Our Soul for Rock 'n' Roll”—a compilation album originally released in 1976—over and over when I was young. My appreciation and knowledge of the music has only grown since.

Fans like me are familiar with the stories, but I still wanted to read Geezer Butler’s memoir, Into the Void: From Birth to Black Sabbath—And Beyond, released in 2023. I’d heard it was good, and it is. I enjoyed reading his firsthand account of the legends. Some notes:

  • Ozzy’s dad supported his son’s interest and ambition. The family was dirt poor, but dad bought Ozzy a PA system—crucial for a singer!
  • Ozzy was always crazy. He was probably even crazier than people think.
  • The drug and alcohol use are a huge part of the band’s story. Butler was less prone to addiction than his band mates, and probably consumed the least drugs and alcohol. That said, he consumed a lot. If you watch video of the 1974 California Jam, for example, you’ll see Butler performing while out of his mind on cocaine.
  • They could perform even if they were really messed up. Butler says a lot of that is “muscle memory.”
  • Fans know Tony Iommi bullied Ozzy in school and could hardly stand him at first, but it sounds like Bill and Ozzy physically fought the most during their time as a band.
  • When Tony was holding it together, he was the most business-like.
  • The making of “Vol. 4” is one of the legends. Butler describes a hill of cocaine being poured on the table, with more cocaine continually flown in. Butler writes, “that record cost $70,000 to make—and the cocaine bill was $75,000.” He also describes bowls of marijuana lying around and heroin being available. The band was always wired and up all night. They wanted to call the album “Snowblind,” but the record company said no. Butler writes, “However, the record company did turn a blind eye to the liner notes, in which we thanked ‘the great COKE-cola company of Los Angeles.’ And we meant it, because all that cocaine had fueled the creation of a great album.”
  • Sabbath partied with everyone. Zappa’s parties sounded next-level, with him giving girls champagne enemas and so on.
  • Toward the late 70s with Ozzy, the band flagged, and opening bands like Kiss and Van Halen would blow them away on tour.
  • Butler cites a few reasons for firing Ozzy. They were all messed up on drugs and alcohol, but Ozzy was hardly functional, missing rehearsals and shows. He also stopped contributing lyrics.
  • The other reason for firing Ozzy is that he would refuse to sing if he didn’t like what Butler and Iommi came up with. Well, why should he sing something he doesn't like? But if he wasn’t contributing, then I can understand how that might be frustrating. 
  • Bill was tasked with firing Ozzy and apparently never got over it.
  • They co-headlined a tour with Blue Oyster Cult, and BOC apparently were jerks.
  • Sharon Osbourne, as a businessperson and Ozzy’s manager, is known to be ruthless. Butler confirms this but says it in a pretty complimentary way.
  • Ozzy sounds like a sweet guy who genuinely cared for friends and reached out during hard times, even when relationships were on life support.
  • The original Sabbath lineup tried to record with Rick Rubin in the 2000s, but Butler—and the others, presumably—were underwhelmed.

Butler’s youth and the OzzySabbath years comprise more than half the book. He also talks about his depression, being a vegetarian (a challenge when touring in the early days), his relationship with the supernatural, and his wide-ranging personal tastes in music.  

In his closing remarks, he notes that rock and roll excess “is largely a thing of the past.” He cites the band’s tough upbringing as key to their endurance. Sabbath could never happen again, he says, because the odds of four gritty working-class kids making it today are “slim to none. They wouldn’t look ‘right,’ they wouldn’t sound ‘current’ and they’d be too much of a risk for major record companies.”

A shame.

More notes:

  • A lot of the anecdotes are known.
  • Sabbath still had some success with Ronnie James Dio. Friction started when he asserted himself, wanting his due.
  • I sampled Butler's solo albums, didn't like the singer. 
  • Original band lineups are usually the best. Does post-Syd Barrett Floyd count as an exception?
  • Sabbath played one previous farewell, in 2005.
  • I read this in May 2025. The farewell concert in Birmingham happened on July 5. (Proceeds were donated to charity.) Ozzy died just over two weeks later. He and Sharon must have known the end was near.
  • Freelance writer and journalist Ben Dirs contributed research and helped Butler tell his story in an easy, plain voice. In acknowledging Dirs, Butler also notes that "Some of my original manuscript was deemed unsuitable for modern readerstimes have changed was the excuse I was given, but I suppose as publishers they know more of what is acceptable these days."

Postscript: I have other book reviews to "publish," of books I read before I read Void, but Ozzy is still front of mind. Last week, I tried to comment on Ozzy's passing.


Saturday, July 26, 2025

about Ozzy dying

I am a huge Ozzy Osbourne fan.
 
I attended a Catholic school and wore a uniform through eighth grade. So I remember how bold I felt wearing a “Diary of a Madman” t-shirt to public school in junior high. The front was the album cover, which I was okay with, but the back featured a closeup of Ozzy bearing vampire teeth and wearing a cape—a silly picture, I knew, and I worried the other kids wouldn’t appreciate the spirit of 1982 Ozzy.
 
I also hung an Ozzy poster in my bedroom—Ozzy in a tough-guy pose, a baseball bat resting on his shoulder. I didn’t like the poster, but it was the only one at the store. Ozzy was not a tough guy, and being tough wasn’t part of his music, his message, or him.
 
His wife and manager Sharon, who really is tough, astutely marketed him as the Prince of Darkness, capitalizing on the Sabbath fame. But when I think of Ozzy, I think of a guy who was resilient and wild and free. He loved performing live. He seemed so happy on stage. That was real joy. Fans could see that was all he wanted to do.
 
Life offstage must have been a bore, and drugs and alcohol helped him cope while feeding whatever predispositional craving lurking within.
 
Ozzy was real. He voice was true, his delivery, true—a crazy train, a silly guy who went on stage and sang. The guy on stage in Paris, 1970, was the guy in the late 1980s and on into the 2000s. His confidence grew during those Sabbath years, and he brought loads of enthusiasm and appreciation to his solo career. Watch him live, clapping, cheering on the band, the music, and the crowd, throwing the fans all the love he had in him.

He was the Prince of Darkness, but the world is darker without him.


Saturday, July 19, 2025

a bit of the old wit

When someone tells me how smart their dog is, I think of how dumb the person must be.
 

Friday, July 11, 2025

about a hard rock/metal band's debut (with a decent music video)

This band sounds like it will steal your tools

The band photo shows three guys wearing ugly masks, studded arm bracers, and chain mail as they pose, let's say, in the side yard of someone’s wood-shingled duplex in Nassau County, New York. With those costumes, you’d be forgiven for lowering your expectations. But Rotgut’s debut, “24 oz Cantrip,” features five songs of excellent, heavy rock n’ roll amped up with death metal, black metal, and thrash influences.

Opening song “Bonemelter” is fine—thick guitars with hot leads, bass and drums tight as hell, and good momentum.

But I took interest in the EP when I heard “The Hunger.” Rollicking from the first, the song’s fast thrash riffs burn amphetamine energy. This sounds like driving with your eyes closed, racing down the freeway shoulder, sending cars spinning in all directions.

“24 oz Cantrip” isn’t beer-bash partier thrash. Rotgut trends darker. The single, posted below, is “Return of the Dead Without Eyes.” Just get passed the group-shout chorus and focus instead on the splashy cymbals after 1:25 and thereafter as the song revels in black-metal-influenced passages. It wraps with beautiful patience at about 3:20 with an inspired payoff led by the vocals, “Blood of the maiden, blood of the priest, blood of the mason, blood of the thief / A beggar to Caesar, a flame to the cloth, sixes in triplicate, salt to the north / A clarion call to the dead without eyes to lead us to darkness and swallow the skies!”

I love the agile bass on this album. It's always on the offensive. It looms and lifts the whole composition.

The album goes by fast. The songs, each 3 or 4 minutes long, make for a loud and enjoyably intense listen. The music sounds a little like The Crown, Midnight, and, at a vast distance, Converge. The Seattle-based band self-released “24 oz Cantrip” on streaming platforms June 20th, 2025.

Those costumes are a fun, cheap way to get your attention. But this band’s sound deserves to hold it.