Photo by Ross Halfin
The past week has been a big one for legacy heavy metal bands finally playing concerts at their favorite football clubs. Last weekend was Iron Maiden's homecoming gig on their Run for Your Lives tour at the London Stadium, where bassist Steve Harris's team West Ham are based. Then on Saturday, there was Black Sabbath's extraordinary, era-defining all-dayer Back to the Beginning at Villa Park, home to their beloved Aston Villa.
The Maiden and Sabbath camps (well, really Bruce Dickinson and Sharon Osbourne) have been at odds since the infamous egg-throwing incident at Ozzfest 2005 where Dickinson declared “these colours do not fucking run”, whilst holding a Union Jack flag aloft. The absence of high-profile British bands was notable at Back to the Beginning. Judas Priest, fellow Brummies and metal gods, were off supporting Scorpions at their 60th anniversary celebrations. They posted a cover of “War Pigs” a few days before the event, and sent a video of support – shown on the day on the big screens – amongst others from Def Leppard, Jonathan Davis, Marilyn Manson (controversially in some quarters) and, er, Dolly Parton.
The two venues tell you a lot about modern Britain. The area around Stratford in East London was transformed by the 2012 Olympics, unrecognisable from the time when Iron Maiden started out playing at the Cart & Horses pub nearby. Aston, by contrast, though changed, is less modernised. On my way to the stadium, I walked over the canal which was an essential transportation route in the city's industrial past, which in turn provided the gritty atmosphere that soaked into Sabbath's music.
Villa Park itself is much more intimate than the London Stadium, and much older too. I could see the stained-glass windows as we queued in a long, chaotic snake of a line waiting to enter the stadium. Billed as heavy metal’s own Live Aid, or “Ozzfest on steroids” as Zakk Wylde put it, expectations were sky high for the event and still were blown to smithereens. There was something about the inherent challenge of the day – big-ticket bands given 15-20 minute sets to do their thing as if they were running a sixty-meter sprint – which made it utterly compelling. With ten-minute turnarounds between acts, there was no chance of getting bored, or even grabbing a beer, without missing something spectacular.
Of the bands in the earlier afternoon, Lamb of God kicked the energy levels up the most. Randy Blythe seemed particularly fired up, even taking a tumble at one point during a frenzied set featuring “Laid to Rest”, “Redneck” (getting the circle pits going) and a pummeling cover of “Children of the Grave”. Blythe spoke to its release in 1971 as a song of hope in turbulent times, just like today. At the end, he even impulsively threw his shoes into the crowd to save some hassle of disentangling himself from his mic cord.
Mastodon fared less well, mostly because someone decided to play the backdrop video of “Blood and Thunder” with the sound on, so it clashed with the live rendition of the song. A superb cover of “Supernaut” – lyrics scrawled on Brann Dailor's snare drum – salvaged the set, with Tool’s Danny Carey, Gojira’s Mario Duplantier and Eloy Casagrande guesting on percussion. The latter represented Slipknot at the event alongside Sid, who DJ'd between sets all day.
With all the guests invited to play Ozzy and Sabbath covers, there were some nice surprises. Slayer probably with the biggest, opting for the overtly jazzy “Wicked World”, then topping that audacious move by interpolating “South of Heaven” in the middle of it. I I happened to be standing next to Sam Dunn, director of essential 2005 documentary Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey, when they launched into it. “Didn’t expect that!” he grinned.
Slayer have previously covered “Hand of Doom”, but Tool took that honor in their set beforehand, which was something of a revelation. I had my doubts Tool could get going with a 20-minute set time in the late afternoon, but “Forty Six & 2” and “Ænema” provided the day with some of its highest drama, as each member’s unique charisma shone through. Anthrax also played against type, unexpectedly taking their set down a few gears by opting to play the hulking, rocket-propulsion doom of “Into the Void” after thrash classic “Indians”.
Halestorm ripped through a fantastic cover of “Perry Mason” from the Ozzmosis album. Ozzy’s rendition featured on the live compilation album released after the first Ozzfest in 1996. Back to the Beginning was an opportunity to bring back bands who regularly appeared at Ozzfest in the nineties and 2000s, including Pantera, who duly obliged with a sublime “Planet Caravan” and a crushing “Electric Funeral”. In truth, the latter was gazumped by Rival Sons’ more authentic rendition earlier in the day, singer Jay Buchanan looking very much like late-period Jim Morrison, and in very fine voice to match.
The day’s two supergroup sets were a treasure trove of performances, whether it was Tom Morello playing with his teeth, Jake E. Lee (alive and well after being randomly shot in a bizarre incident last year) bringing Ozzy's hair metal era back, or Extreme’s Nuno Bettencourt holding it down throughout with a brilliantly selfless performance. The Portuguese guitarist took a moment to say a few words for his fellow countryman and Liverpool footballer, Diogo Jota, who tragically died in a car accident the previous day.
There was a real sense of an era being celebrated and defined during the whole day. What it lacked, to be pernickety, was a strong presence of the next generation. Scott Ian and Tom Morello’s sons joined Jack Black for a School of Rock-inspired pre-recorded video performance of “Mr. Crowley”, which they introduced from the stage. Jason Momoa, the day’s compère, made sure that all present understood we were “the luckiest motherfuckers in the world” before announcing that metal was in his DNA, and his determination to bring his kids to enjoy the day with him. He put his sizable body where his mouth was by jumping into the pit like a teenager for Pantera’s set.
As if to make a point about the paucity of newer bands on the bill, YUNGBLUD stole the first half of the show with his performance of “Changes”, looking like a young Ozzy with his eyeliner and slicked-back hair. He went for his moment in a manner reminiscent of Freddie Mercury forty years ago this summer at Live Aid. Not to be outdone by the youngster, Aerosmith's Stephen Tyler looked and sounded every inch one of the greatest rock stars of his generation with a rabble-rousing “Walk This Way”. But for me, Sammy Hagar leading Chili Peppers Chad Smith and Living Color’s Vernon Reid in a slamming version of Montrose classic “Rock Candy” was a highlight of many once-in-a-lifetime moments the day gifted us. Hard rock certainly showed up in force on a day mainly dedicated to heavy metal.
Where some bands seemed to attack the dynamic of the day with relish, some were less sure, or somewhat abashed. Gojira were nervous launching into an adamantine cover of “Under the Sun” and Alice In Chains false-started on “Fairies Wear Boots” when Sean Kinney couldn’t hear Jerry Cantrell’s guitar intro well enough. No such butterflies for Tobias Forge in full Papa V Perpetua regalia, who sang “Bark At The Moon” like he’d written it the day before.
As the sun started to set behind the stage, the business end of the proceedings began. Slayer’s crew were visibly arguing with Guns N’ Roses’s stagehands about the latter setting up a temporary dressing-room tent at the side of the stage as Slayer was tearing through “Raining Blood” obliviously. GN’R behaved themselves, arriving on time on a very tightly scheduled day, and regaled us with the day’s most unusual set. They dug out some Sabbath deep cuts – “It’s Alright” and “Junior’s Eyes” – which Sabbath probably don’t remember writing themselves. Axl Rose has definitely sounded better, but the last time they played back-to-back with Metallica was probably when they last toured together in the early nineties. That fact alone made their appearance special. Shades too of the Freddie Mercury tribute concert, where both bands performed, some thirty-three years ago. The sands of time are running low indeed.
As for Metallica, I wonder if it’s a small relief to be the support band for once. That, and getting to play on a relatively small stage compared to the vast “donut” they’ve been filling stadia with on their M72 tour the last few years. James Hetfield looked positively joyous at points. They eschewed their version of “Sabbra Cadabra” from 1998 covers album Garage Inc. in favour of “Hole in the Sky” and another deep cut, “Johnny Blade” from Sabbath’s 1978 album Never Say Die! Hetfield, like many others during the day, told us they simply wouldn’t have been put on their path in life without Ozzy and Black Sabbath.
Videos from Elton John and Randy Rhoads’ surviving sister, Kathy, underscored the significance of Ozzy's farewell set. Rhoads was a colossal loss that defined Ozzy’s early solo career. Ozzy long carried a guilt that maybe it should have been him the way he lived on the razor's edge. Watching Zakk Wylde (frankly, much more at home here than with Pantera) serenade Ozzy on his customised bat-throne was a surprisingly tender sight, like a son showing his father how much he loves him – albeit through the guitar pyrotechnics and heretical power of heavy metal.
The last few years have been extremely tough for the Prince of Darkness. Ozzy struggled to scream the audience to attention like he used to, but he sang well for his solo set, particularly on “I Don’t Know” and “Suicide Solution”, a song which defined the Satanic Panic of the eighties. But “Mama, I’m Coming Home”, performed with tears in his eyes, was the emotional centrepiece of the day. The crazy train must reach its destination at some point, and it was an incredibly moving moment in a day of sturm und drang.
When the revolving stage slowly began to turn to the sound of falling rain and tolling bells, we knew we were reaching The End. Black Sabbath’s set was only four songs long, but “War Pigs”, “N.I.B.”, “Iron Man” and “Paranoid”, all culled from the band’s first two albums, carved out a vision of generational unease and anointed a new genre. The last time I saw Bill Ward on stage with the band was in 2001, and it was right he should be with them to say goodbye, even though he is far from the force he once was. The same can’t be said for Tony Iommi and Geezer Butler, who attacked their instruments with almost supernatural drive. Geezer in particular, with his natural grey hair showing, and a hard, almost implacable seriousness on his face, looked like someone who truly understood the significance of Sabbath’s last performance. In a final moment that truly hit home, Ozzy began to announce “Paranoid” as “the last song of the eve…” before correcting himself: “... forever.”
Black Sabbath’s legacy is embedded in the place of their birth, but it transcends both time and place. We saw it all at Back to the Beginning – rage, sadness, humour and joy (showing Ozzy's ridiculous skits down the years on the big screens helped here) – the full fabric of the human experience which heavy metal paints in the loudest of colours. If there is a God, he will be smiling on Sabbath and Ozzy right now, just as the Devil will be prepared to welcome them with open wings for all they’ve done for his reputation. Between heaven and hell, and everything in between, Back to the Beginning showed Sabbath’s music and the genre they created in its fullest glory. The circle is now complete.
