LIVE FROM THE PIT: Back to the Beginning, the big Black Sabbath review

Everyone’s feeling a little weird right now. The passing of something. Everyone knows it, but no one quite knows how to say it. Sabbath have called it. Ozzy has called it - for real this time. It’s one of those seminal occasions that requires a new method of timekeeping; henceforth, we are living in 0 A.S. (After Sabbath) in the metal calendar after 57 years. There’s an air of uncertainty. What bands will carry the generational torch? How will the genre evolve? And most poignantly put by one of the participants of this event, where do we go now?

Metal legends such as Motorhead’s Lemmy and Sabbath alumni Dio did not get a grand sendoff whilst they were still alive, but on Saturday in Birmingham, it was first and foremost a sendoff to the great Ozzy Osbourne. It would be disingenuous to post this as a “Sabbath tribute” as no tracks from beyond Never Say Die! were mentioned. This is Back to the Beginning after all, but it would have been poignant to do a proper sendoff to the legacy of the mighty Black Sabbath, as well as, after all, this is their final show together. Rage’s Tom Morello was in charge of proceedings tonight, and he claims to have put on the biggest rock show since the Freddie Mercury tribute show in the 90s. Bold words. Did he deliver?

Editor's note: All views in this article are the writer's own honest opinion and do not reflect the views of Out Of Rage.

The first thing you notice in Villa Park is the mutterings of a thousand tongues, mostly Americans. There’s no British shame here to speak of; tales of past Ozzy shows in cities that may or may not exist (Lexingham?) fly as free as the seagulls overhead. A Herculean effort was made to be here; there’s a sense of relief, but overall weariness in the atmosphere, and it seems you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who had an ‘easy’ time getting there. And sadly, a lot of people did not end up getting there, their dreams ostensibly crushed by random acts of disruptive serendipity; be it the air traffic control strike in France or just general travel strategies that were not meant to be. The vibe is relief heavily laced with exhaustion. There’s a palpable sense of “thank god I’m here” throughout the grounds, and it all feels a bit dreamlike.

Once inside, confusion reigns. The prevailing question is; how do people get in the venue? Queues seem to form at random, and in a display Brits would be proud of, many seem to just join them for the hell of it, only to be told that they’re in the wrong queue. The security and the ushers do a commendable job here of wrangling this intercontinental human jamboree. VIPs get a goody bag absolutely filled with commemorative items of all shapes and sizes, including a beanie, Ozzy vinyl record, a poster, and a metric ton of other things. In an age of cost-cutting, this comes as a pleasant surprise. The merch stand is borderline unapproachable due to the load of people there. Also, the burgers outside are £9.50, but aren’t bad at all.

Anyway, enough about the goddamn goody bags and burgers. Who wants to hear about that? This is the concert of a generation, isn’t it? That is true, but there are a few things to go over beforehand, as this show was so densely packed with happenings that to describe them all in sequence would be foolishness. In between acts, they play various clips of Ozzy in bizarre commercials where he appears in pop culture moments. Highlights include him on-stage with The Beatles and standing beside Sam Jackson and John Travolta during their famous Pulp Fiction scene. Also included are video messages from other figures who couldn’t attend, notably fellow Brummies Judas Priest, and also the almighty AC/DC.

Things in this review might seem a little negative to the “you should be thankful to be there!” crowd, but rest assured, everyone was thankful to be there, and this is simply a play-by-play account of what it was like to be in the venue. There already seems to be a strange divide in opinion on some things between those who watched the livestream and those who were there, rest assured that certain procedural misfortunes may not have made it into the stream. Regardless of when things start, everyone isn’t wondering if it will be good, but just how legendary this whole thing is going to be.

It begins with very recently engaged Slipknot DJ Sid Wilson (to Ozzy's daughter Kelly) opening on the turntables with a decent if scattershot selection. Some transitions don’t land, he tries out a noise to transition from Blue Öyster Cult’s ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’, but it ends up sounding like feedback combined with screeching police sirens. But he’s not one of the main acts, so we move on.

Then, an American emcee waves an Aston Villa flag whilst mispronouncing “Birmingham,” getting both jeers and laughs and shortly after, heavyweight sludgers MASTODON run giddily onto the stage, clearly fuelled up and ready to go. They’re still Brent-less, but that doesn’t seem to make much of a difference other than guaranteeing their biggest song, “Oblivion” is not on the setlist. They start out with ‘Black Tongue’ where bassist and frontman Troy Sanders does the thing where he enunciates every single word. They soon move on to ‘Blood & Thunder’, which is where things start to go a bit south. The rest of the band seems blissfully unaware that a technical glitch has rendered a speaker completely out of sync, making it sound like there are two ‘Blood & Thunder’s’ on at the same time. By the time they start the first Sabbath cover of the day with ‘Supernaut,’ the stereo is still finishing up the last song; it’s a fairly discombobulating experience. Regardless, their cover is well above par, and drummer Brann Dailor has the perfect vocal register for it. The drum break in the middle is where people get their first real taste of “holy shit-ness” when Eloy Casagrande, Max Duplantier, and Danny Carrey join in on smaller toms. Holy. Shit.

The concert setup seems to be clear to people now; it’s proper Live Aid style, where the bands can do maybe two or three of their own songs and one Sabbath song, seemingly of their choosing. To speed things up, they employ a Lazy Susan stage so they can set up the next band whilst another one is playing. Before you have time to process the diligence of it all, Aquaman himself, Jason Momoa, walks on stage in that very odd Mr. Monopoly hat he keeps insisting upon wearing. He waxes lyrical on how lucky everyone is to be there and how much of a massive fanboy he is - and fair play to him. He’s the real emcee for the day, and just seems as happy to be there as everyone else.

The second band RIVAL SONS, who many might know from their opening of the previous Sabbath's final’ tour, come and 70s up the proceedings with ‘Do Your Worst.’ They’re a great group of performers, and their playing is tight as a duck’s ass. Frontman Jay Buchanan wears what appears to be a velvet purple suit, which should tell you everything you need to know about their sound. Their cover of choice for this evening is ‘Electric Funeral,’ it turns out to be a great choice as they do a damn near 1-to-1 rendition of the classic number. Thoroughly impressive. They go out with ‘Secret’ as Jay proceeds to channel Robert Plant as much as he can. A solid group that received a fittingly good reception. It bodes well for the rest of the day.

Thrash legends ANTHRAX always seem rearing to play any place they go, it may be controversial to say, but they’re easily the most dynamic of the thrash metal “big 4.” Wasting no time they volley into ‘Indians’ with such haste that the pit has already kicked into one of their signature wardances. Their cover of ‘Into The Void’ is another exceptional one, the steady beat a headbanger’s dream, hands rising into the air in awe. As there isn’t much buzz about it online, it’s definitely the most underrated cover of the entire affair. A studio version of this would not go amiss at all. It’s just unfortunate that they only had time for two songs due to the lengths of each song. They soon retreat off stage left, but they leave a chuffed mass in their wake.

Then it’s HALESTORM, who come from a town that’s named after a good 90% of pubs in the UK; Red Lion, Pennsylvania. One of the few women on the lineup, frontwoman Lzzy Hale is a goddamn electrical substation, with enough power in her voice to run the lights in Aston for months. ‘Love Bites (And So Do I)’ and the ballsy addition of a new number ‘Rain Your Blood On Me’ go down an absolute storm and turn sceptics into believers. That is, until they kick into their cover of Ozzy’s ‘Perry Mason’, where they somehow manage to switch into 5^th gear even more than they had. It really is a monster of a cover, Hale’s voice works so amazingly well to add her own flair onto Ozzy’s vocal line. The rest of the band brings in a strong rhythm as well, punching through like a struck anvil. It’s a bit of a shame that the sound desk couldn’t decide whether to crank the bass or kill it, as the sound tends to shift inconsistently during the performance; hopefully, something cleaned up in post. Still, easily one of the top performances of the entire affair.

It looks like someone got a ‘motherfucking invitation’ of their own, as LAMB OF GOD cut like a polished knife through ‘Redneck’ and ‘Laid to Rest.’ The crowd instinctively throw themselves at each other in a Hobbesian ‘war against all’ style, not seen since the dawn of humanity, even rid of the dreads Randy Blythe seems to psychically influence thousands to his will. Mark, Willie, Art, and John are terminating their instruments with extreme prejudice. It seems the gravity of the event has influenced their playing in a very positive way. In fact, their cover of ‘Children of the Grave’ is so goddamn good that people were begging it to come to streaming almost immediately after it finished, which luckily for them, it did. It’s a perfect blend of their signature groovy-death growl style with the original’s trotting pace. A lot like Type O Negative did in the 90s with their cover of Black Sabbath’s self-titled song, Lamb of God made it completely theirs. In a display of Hunter S. Thompson gonzo madness to match his t-shirt, Blythe not only seems to get lost in the hype and fall down, but also throws both of his shoes into the crowd after they’re done. Let’s just hope they weren’t Air Force 1s.

Then comes out ‘Tom Morello’s super group A’ where the first song is a grandiose rendition of Ozzy’s ‘The Ultimate Sin’ once again by the remarkable Lzzy Hale and a charcuterie board of other great musicians including Ozzy guitarist Jake E. Lee, Extreme’s Nuno Bettencourt, former Megadeth bassist David Ellefson, Faith No More’s Mike “Puffy” Bordin, and Rick Wakeman’s own progeny, Adam Wakeman.

The boos that ensue when the next act comes out are staggeringly loud in the stadium, and the few cheers they receive are nearly completely washed away by the sheer lack of people wanting them to be there. The beehive of boos got to him, and he couldn’t wait to leave that stage as he rushed into ‘Shot in the Dark’ much to the chagrin of Jake E. Lee. There’s a huge shift in the vibe as he plays, suddenly there’s negativity in the air, and it hangs heavy like a noxious cloud for the rest of his performance, which is objectively pretty poor. Breaking into the classic ‘Sweet Leaf’, which he doesn’t do anything particularly interesting with, he retreads the record as pedestrian as he can. I believe that booking this guy for the performance was a mistake, because no matter where you stand, as a large part of the media conversation will now be squarely focused upon him and his views outside the concert, rather than honouring the legacy of Sabbath and Ozzy.

Ugly Kid Joe’s Whitfield Crane comes out and does a pretty nothing-of-note cover of ‘Believer’ that features Sleep Token’s II on drums. (Nice of at least one of them to turn up.) But soon afterwards, YUNGBLUD comes out to do a rendition of all-time Sabbath tearjerker, ‘Changes.’ Now this is where the review really seems to veer off from general opinion, because while it’s generally being lauded, it wasn’t as good as it could have been. The world has seen what can be done with a song like ‘Changes.’ As if the original wasn’t as solemn as music could get, soul singer Charles Bradley made a cover back in 2016 that breaks the hearts of all who listen. In a way, it felt like the song was his, or that it easily belonged with the other Berry Gordy tracks of the Motown age.

The song had the potential to have the entire stadium in tears, weeping like babies to the stripped-down melody. But Yungblud’s rendition seems to not attempt any sort of sombre angle - quite the opposite. In his hands, the song becomes more of a statement, the subtlety of Geezer’s lyricism meekly and brokenly lamenting a failed relationship with the stiff-upper-lip words of “I’m going through changes” becomes literal, and it feels like Yungblud is telling us about some changes he seems to be going through, but he’ll get over em’ – right? You don’t have to look far to see how tonally confusing this whole thing is as he sings about how “all my days are filled with tears” whilst triumphantly raising his fists. You may have liked it, but in the end he sadly Robbie Williams’ his way through what could have been the emotional point of the proceedings. Elation isn’t the only feeling that can be conjured through music, you know.

The next few minutes has you asking yourself bizarre questions: Why do I exist? Why is Jack Black playing ‘Mr. Crowley’? Why isn’t he on-stage? Why is this particular section of the show so bizarre? In fairness to Mr. Black, it’s not a bad cover at all; it’s just a shame he couldn’t be there to cover it himself. There could have been a whole Minecraft movie reunion up on stage with Momoa in the proceedings; it would be a great way to celebrate Black Sabbath’s legacy… somehow.

It's all looking a bit weird, the “oh wow!” moments have all but dried up, and the lines for food and beer grow ever longer. That is, until grunge gods Alice In Chains emerge. William Duvall and Jerry Cantrell are a performing powerhouse that has the entire stadium waking up. After ‘Man in the Box’ and ‘Would?’ - because of course, those are the two songs they played - they come out with ‘Fairies Wear Boots.’ It’s a great cover, yet they don’t put their own special stamp on it. They instead seek to emulate as much of Sabbath as they possibly can, which in itself is respectable. Plus, the crowd is going bananas over it, so that’s got to count for something. From this point, it seems like ‘Back to the Beginning’ really reveals itself as the legendary gig that was promised.

GOJIRA aren’t really a band. They’re more akin to a tsunami or earthquake, an unstoppable force of nature that inspires awe and terror like their namesake. They also happen to possibly be the finest metal act around right now. Their musicianship is as sharp as the edge of a diamond. ‘Stranded’ and ‘Silvera’ are just as magnificent live as they were when they first struck the metal world in 2016. They also class up affairs with a performance of their song of choice for the Olympic games, ‘Mea Culpa (Ah! Ça ira!) featuring mezzo-soprano Marina Viotti on co-vocals. Their choice of cover was ‘Under the Sun’ from ‘Volume 4.’ It is a great song, one of the most underrated Ozzy era Sabbath songs in fact, and a good cover. But it’s palpable that Gojira didn’t grow up with Sabbath, as evidenced by the short length of the whole thing and- some dare -slightly unenthusiastic playing. It may have been an illusion, and it may have been different in the livestream, though that’s the way it looks in the arena. Not the slam dunk expected, but still totally awesome. Old Blighty holds its breath for their return as headliners next month at Bloodstock.

We then bear witness to a drum-off between Travis Barker of Blink-182, Chad Smith of Red Hot Chilli Peppers, and once again Tool’s Danny Carey. It’s an impressive few minutes, with all of them competing over the main riff of ‘Sabotage’s’ ‘Symptom of the Universe.’ Tom Morello, Extreme's Nuno Bettencourt, and Quiet Riot's Rudy Sarzo perform the other instrumentation over these guys hammering their kits. It’s an exciting bit of kit flourishing, and keeps us all sated for what comes next.

Before you can say “what the fuck is happening,” Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins, Tool’s Adam Jones, and KK Downing are on stage playing Judas Priest’s ‘Breaking the Law.’ Corgan’s wearing some long priestly sash as he belts out Halford lines in his trademark nasally voice. It’s all very weird, with people in the audience seen turning to each other in confusion. At this point, the more inebriated audience members are happy that Rob Halford has made an appearance, blissfully unaware that it is - in fact - the guy who did ‘Mellon Collie’ and ‘Siamese Dream’ there instead. It’s a pretty novel cover, not much to do with Ozzy or Sabbath, but a classic Brummie anthem nonetheless. It just sounds like Priest with Billy Corgan doing the karaoke really. They then break into ‘Snowblind,’ and many metal elitists scoff at the prospect of such a classic song being made by… by a “poseur” like Corgan. But to hell with them, Corgan does a commendable job, channelling some heaviness in his voice seemingly not conjured since 1994’s ‘Pices Isacariot.’ Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Then come the “surprise guests”, and surprise! It’s Sammy Hagar! From Van Halen! And he’s doing Ozzy’s ‘Flying High Again’ like it’s the final track on ‘5150.’ He’s in good form here and everyone seems to be happy to see him. After a bit of a restrained rendition of set-staple Montrose song ‘Rock Candy,’ which seemingly nobody is interested in, he bows out in favour of Mr. Ghost’s current persona Papa V Perpetua. Papa’s a rolling stone here, in full Ghost uniform he brings a genuine stage presence to the Ozzy classic ‘Bark at the Moon’ in a firecracker rendition.

Just when you thought it couldn’t possibly get any better, they introduce the Rolling Stone’s Ronnie Wood and Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler for a heavenly cover of blues number ‘The Train Kept A-Rollin.' It’s an all-out rock and roll bash; the Freddie Mercury tribute moment is finally here. People jump out of their seats when Tyler throws off his magnificent black and white snakeskin leather duster and dives headlong into ‘Walk This Way.’ For someone who had to cancel a tour due to vocal issues, he sounds right as rain. He and Ronnie do one last cover of Zeppelin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’ keeping the momentum going like the Flying Dutchman, and the show goes from a tribute into the last stand of 20^th-century rock.

Next up is the resurrected PANTERA, who dedicate the performance to two former members who are both on record as saying they don’t want the band to continue without them. Doesn’t stop the performance from being great. ‘Cowboys from Hell’ and ‘Walk’ have the audience moving like a wave, still riding that high of Tyler’s performance. Zakk Wylde, who would return later on, makes his first proper appearance here, channelling Dimebag as best as he can. Not only do they perform a great rendition of ‘Planet Caravan’ that sounds straight from the record, but they hit out with ‘Electric Funeral…’ again. Odd seeing as Rival Sons already did that one earlier, which makes you wonder how much coordination there was behind the scenes regarding the covers.

You wouldn’t be amiss expecting TOOL to only fit one track into their setlist due to their massively lengthy songs. But you would be wrong. In fact, they fit three. Seeing them out in the open feels a bit wrong, and singer Maynard Keenan is uncharacteristically at the forefront of things (although still behind his bandmates); there’s no hiding in the sunlight. They begin proceedings with ‘46 & 2’ and then careen into their choice cover, ‘Hand of Doom,’ a song that almost feels tailor-made for the group with its staccato pacing feeling like something from ‘Fear Inoculum.’ We can only beg that the band sees reason, and this one also gets out as a studio recording because it’s an absolute masterpiece of a track on its own. It transitions pretty seamlessly into ‘Ænema’, which plays them out. Tool appear to be unstoppable, and put on another one of the highlight performances of the day.

SLAYER! The battle cry of many an annoying metalhead, but right now that statement seems proper as ever. The newly reunited thrash legends are one of the three big 4 acts on today, and begin robust as a raging bull with ‘Disciple.’ Multiple mosh-pits open like whirlpools in a rough sea as the titans unleash their wrath, with Aston screaming out ‘GOD HATES US ALL’ for the first and possibly last time in its history, lord only knows what the locals' thoughts on that were. Into ‘South of Heaven’ next, and the impetus continues intact, they somehow fit in a cover of ‘Wicked World’ between it all to create the greatest metal sandwich of all time. Then ‘Raining Blood,’ then ‘Angel of Death,’ and like magic, the tired crowd is given energy anew. Outstanding. Some even liked it so much they went to London the following day and caught them at Finsbury Park, not even god can keep down the metalhead with a taste for blood.

Next up, GUNS N' ROSES. They start with a surprise, a piano cover of ‘It’s Alright’ from the less lauded ‘Technical Ecstasy.’ It’s a really nice surprise, and Axl Rose’s voice sounds promising - at least for a while. They don’t finish it, and instead give ‘Never Say Die’ some love with a rendition of the title track and then into ‘Junior’s Eyes.’ Hey, this is pretty good. They’re giving some love to lesser-appreciated Ozzy Sabbath records! A very elegant move. Then they move into ‘Sabbath Bloody Sabbath’ and things start to… fall apart. Not due to any of the other band members, mind you, Duff McKagan and Slash are killing it on their respective instruments, but it’s Axl. The guy has obviously had a serious talk with his vocal coach, who advised him to sing in a new way to save his voice, but he just ends up sounding like Mickey Mouse most of the time. It’s a damn shame, not to mention his in-ear monitor malfunction as he ends up botching the ending of ‘Sabbath Bloody Sabbath’, leading to a disappointed head-shake from Slash. Classic tracks ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ and ‘Paradise City’ have the crowd moving and bopping along, but they don’t seem to be taken all that seriously. Perhaps it’s time for Axl to rein it in a bit. Their performance is one of the few things about the show that the majority of people can agree on.

Tom Morello comes out and reminds everyone that this is the last act before Ozzy arrives, the hype is real, and then they come out. METALLICA are probably the most consistent metal band in the world. Bigger than Sabbath since at least the 90s, they’ve come back to pay their respects. And while they took a much larger influence from other Midlands band Diamond Head, they’re like kids in a candy store at the prospect of honouring their benefactors. They begin with covering the opening track to ‘Sabotage,’ ‘Hole in the Sky.’ It’s a cover as great as it was when ‘Tallica recorded it in the studio, but it would have been nice for their rendition of ‘Sabbra Cadabra’ to make an appearance as well. They then come out guns a-blazing with a spectacular run of ‘Creeping Death’ into ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls.’ Bassist Robert Trujillo crawls around like the crab he is while James Hetfield chases him around the stage, the crowd yells ‘DIE’ as loud as they can, and Lars is making silly faces behind the kit - it’s unadulterated fun. ‘Junior’s Eyes’ from ‘Never Say Die’ also gets covered, which is getting a lot of love this evening for some reason. It drags on a bit, and a lot of people feel it is an apt time to head to the bathroom, to which they are sorely mistaken, as they pull out the deadly combo of ‘Battery’ into ‘Master of Puppets’ next. The crowd turns into a whirlpool once again. They have a longer set than their peers, but it feels like it goes by in an instant. Seeing Metallica is always a treat, and tonight it’s no different. Surely there’s no way they can top this.

Oh, but they can. As Carl Orff’s epic ‘O Fortuna’ echoes across the crowd, something rises from the stage. It’s no mere man, it’s a throne, and upon the throne is the legend himself. Ozzy “fucking” Osbourne slowly rises up with the ebony seat, waving to the crowd. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, he’s back. He simply asks, “Are you ready?” When the keen metalheads respond in kind, he lets loose the chained beast. “Let the madness begin!” And before you can shout “fucking hell” the band breaks into ‘I Don’t Know.’ As for Ozzy? He sounds magnificent. Weathered, to be sure. But his voice isn’t dissimilar to how it was during the last Sabbath ‘final’ show. He headbangs along with glee, Zakk Wylde is an emperor’s loyal general as he stands resplendent beside his liege’s throne. Once Ozzy gets to ‘Mr. Crowley’ and Adam Wakeman plays out those creepy organ notes, there are real tears in the crowd.

Ozzy looks absolutely elated. This is everything he’s wanted in the last few years that he wasn’t able to do. For a man with a legacy of untamed antics, it seems being in front of a crowd is what really gives Ozzy’s life meaning. And that’s the reason why this strikes such a chord with the audience, who stand by in devotion with their chants of “OZZY! OZZY! OZZY!” whenever they can. After a great final performance of ‘Suicide Solution,’ the man speaks to us; “thank you from the bottom of my heart.” Then it’s time for ‘Mama, I’m coming home.’ If it wasn’t the waterworks before, it sure is now. Clearly emotional, Ozzy fights to get out as many notes as he can whilst the crowd light up the night with their torches – and there’s not a dry eye in the house by the end.

For the last time, we hear that scream of “ALL ABOOOOOARD,” every request Ozzy asks the crowd for is met within a millisecond, “let me see those hands in the air!” and every single hand in the stadium goes up. Then, with a bang and some confetti, Ozzy’s set is all over. Such a glorious finish. It makes you weep; weep for how great everybody was, how Ozzy’s voice still rings out with purpose, weep for how other metal legends did not get the same farewell, and for how this is the last time we will ever hear Ozzy play those songs. It’s a bittersweet ending, but to have been part of the ones who witnessed it is like bearing witness to the Big Bang. He may not be able to stand, but Ozzy has never looked more like a god.

But we’re not done here yet, oh no. It’s ‘Back to the Beginning’ after all. The speakers roar out with ‘Sabbra Cadabra,’ and archival footage of Sabbath’s interviews and legacy, the “Lost Cartoon” even makes an appearance. Before long, red lights search the crowd and alarming sirens wail. Then comes the riff. It’s ‘War Pigs,’ and the boys are all in their places.

With every cymbal hit, every note, and every fret, the weary crowd hangs on for dear life. Guitarist Tony Iommi stands like a colossus, there are no wild licks here, just that devilishly pragmatic playing that changed the face of music for the rest of time. As the stadium wails away the ‘Luke’s Wall’ coda, Ozzy is conducting 40,000 souls in a danse macabre. And before you know it it’s time for the next one. Geezer Butler strums away on his bass more like a 25 year old than a 75 year old as they transition into ‘N.I.B.,’ still as hauntingly groovy as it was the day it was released.

Ozzy tries to get out of his chair a few times, heaving as he hoists himself to no avail, there’s a sense that he may feel he has to stand before a crowd like he’s always done and that by not doing so he would be letting people down. It’s quite the contrary, as the enthroned Ozzy somehow feels far more powerful and present. He’s laughing away, egging the crowd on at every opportunity to party along with him.

By the time they start ‘Iron Man,’ Ozzy is introducing his bandmates for the last time, and Bill Ward has inexplicably taken his shirt off – once a drummer, always a drummer. It’s a slightly slower rendition than usual, that is, until the second half of the song picks up and Tony shoots into his mad solo. It might be the heaviest rendition this song about a metal man has ever been, no cover or interpretation can possibly match the sheer weight of the ‘Iron Man’s’ last stand. Afterwards, Ozzy gives the epitaph of Sabbath, “go fucking crazy, it’s the last song!” as the warm resonance of ‘Paranoid’ fills the stadium. It’s a final hurrah to end all final hurrahs, Geezer’s bass is galloping like an ungelded stallion, Bill brings that jazzy swing that heavy music has been lacking so badly in the last 40 years, Tony is playing the riff for his dear life, and Ozzy gives it his all, the weakening of his voice being vastly overpowered by the strength of his will. Even with his condition there’s nothing on heaven and earth that can stop him from delivering a good show, spitting in the face of Parkinson’s disease and all of its machinations; they are the best act of the day. And after all the money raised tonight, scientists will be equipped to bring down its reign of terror for good.

Fireworks launch out of the stadium, the band stands and claps, and Geezer hands Ozzy a commemorative cake (to which Ozzy characteristically replies “what the fuck is this?”) and then it’s all over. Everyone makes the long journey back, but even those that weren’t there are still talking about the gig. For all the technical glitches and some less than stellar performances, in the end they really pulled it off. It really was a show for the ages. So many bands, so many hits, all crammed into a single event back to where it all started. It was hard to process everything happening in real time, like trying to remember a dream just after waking up. It felt once-in-a-lifetime, and in all likelihood, it was. People are already hawking commemorative items online for hundreds of dollars and pounds. Sure, Sabbath could have knocked out their self-titled song and maybe ‘Fairies Wear Boots’ like originally planned and couldn’t due to the curfew, but does it really matter? Bands rarely ever get curtain calls quite like this, and for good reason. Because there are no bands like Sabbath. Many have tried, hell, many have even done a commendable job of replicating them. But in the end – there is only one Ozzy Osbourne, and there’s only one Black Sabbath. And we may never see their like again.

The final words we hear from Sabbath echo out: “And so as you hear these words/Telling you now of my state/I tell you to enjoy life/I wish I could but it's too late.”

But it wasn’t too late.

It was right on time.

Words: Kiarash Golshani