In 1992 Ozzy Osbourne declared his live activity over. It seemed to be affected by a degenerative disease, which then did not prove such, and to close with the bang he called Geezer Butler, Tony Iommi and Bill Ward for a last waltz. To be present, the three closed for the second time their adventure with Ronnie James Dio, who took it badly, to use an understatement. It is funny and cruel that 33 years later, perhaps a non -random figure, the event has repeated itself with the same motivations. This time, however, it was not a joke. I saw Ozzy and Black Sabbath every time I could, aware of the fact that sooner or later this moment would arrive, but just like the death of a parent has never really been ready, although knowing that sooner or later it will happen.
Until the end I tried to be present in Birmingham (Here instead if you want to read how the pilgrimage went, editor's note), is the third reunion of life that I lose, after Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Other than brothers Gallagher of 'Sta Cippa. I therefore had to settle for one of those links that immediately make Lockdown to be able to at least attend the largest metal gathering in the story from the sofa at home. Better than nothing, I thought. Better than looking at theBarnaby inspector or a replica of the Bullfight.
Yet not, my balls have turned for a whole day. A bit because the link had been reminded me that that damned pandemic had prevented me for years from seeing Ozzy's last tour, postponed infinite times and then canceled for the aggravation of his condition. And then because, let's face it, once these events showed them live without the need to pay a money. Today, however, you have to pay to see for seven hours people who from their home try to attract the attention of other users, without any logic. Why should I look in the cameras the living room of a centered man who does headbanging?
My moment Scudge still lasts a little, fueled by the fact that streaming is on two hours deferred, and continues at least until the Alice in Chains on the scene, which have the merit of losing me in axis. If nothing else, the audio is crazy and seems to leave directly from the mixer while the backstage images are wonderful, a bit the idea of paradise of the average metaller: Ozzy on his throne that waits that each participant will go from him to kiss him, Ross Halfin who tells him to be in a number of Kerrang! From 1984, Bill Ward in very form, Sammy Hagar who kisses Steven Tyler who kisses her. Tom Morello, artistic director of the day, did things big: the two super bands set up for the occasion are something sensational, with Nuno Bettencourt and Morello himself in the role of human Jukebox. Ozzy's last miracle is to have restored the voice to Steven Tyler, completely removing it from Axl Rose, who on the other hand chose the covers of the best Sabbath of the day.
As the hours go by, everything takes on the appearance of something halfway between a funeral and the Rio Carnival, everything is in the name of diametrically opposed emotions. In reality, the show is a kind of stargate of nostalgia. Every artist who climbs makes you come back to the first time that you saw him live. And you feel old, very old. Think of the aerosmith who were fifty years old when you saw them the first time and seemed old and now that you have that age, Steven Tyler looks younger than you. Or the metal and the Guns who still consider young, but who actually took the way to seventy. It's all paradoxical. All Abaaaaaard.
When Ozzy, at the end of the solo set, invites us for the last race on his crazy train we have already finished tears. Madman struggles always seems to collapse emotionally. It is understood with difficulty what he says to the public between one piece and another, he trembles, and Mama I'm coming home It is one of the most heartbreaking performance ever seen in the history of popular music. I had promised myself not to cry, but this is really too much. While the Black Sabbath get on stage, you wonder how Ozzy can sing other songs, since he seemed already destroyed at the end of the first part of his last show. Instead everything is perfect. The liquefaction of the blood of San Gennaro takes place once again.
On the net someone speaks of pornography and insults Sharon, Ozzy's wife. Instead we should return human for a moment and understand that this man in the end realized the dream of greeting his people together with friends ever. One of the most poetic, dignified and rock'n'roll things in the last thirty years. Back to the Beginning was all that had to be: exaggerated, tamarro, moving. Better than Pink Floyd al Live 8perhaps even better than Celebration Day of the Led Zeppelin. The most beautiful possible closure of an unrepeatable story. Nobody like the Black Sabbath, none like Ozzy Osbourne, probably the greatest icon of metal music and certainly the most recognizable voice ever, as Elton John in video connection has kept underlining. From tomorrow everything will be sadder.
