 Ozzy Osbourne To the non-metal fan, most metal records will elicit a response anywhere from sneering laughter to dismayed repulsion. I suppose most people haven't lost their high-school condescension toward the longhairs of the world. Myself, I was always a semi-longhair/semi-popular kid, so my endorsement of heavy metal is best understood through albums like Blizzard of Ozz—a stone-cold metal classic. Ozzy Osbourne's somewhat pathetic public persona aside, his albums deliver a lot of satisfaction. Blizzard was released in 1981 and represents the best that Ozzy and lead guitarist Randy Rhoads had to offer. Catchy melodies and genuinely intelligent (if adolescent) lyrics combine with good old ball-rockin' rock to create a heavy metal album your grandparents could listen to, if they weren't embarrassingly deaf. There really isn't a bad cut on the album. "Crazy Train," "Goodbye To Romance," "Mr. Crowley," "Suicide Solution," "No Bone Movies," these are all metal standards. Perhaps in fifty years Osbourne & Rhoads will be seen as the Rodgers & Hart of the 1980s. I, for one, would not object to a Verve Records songbook collection celebrating their partnership. Don't tell me you've never imagined Cassandra Wilson exploring "Mr. Crowley." (Readers who are now saying "Cassandra who?" and "Mr. What?" are advised to skip to a different review.) At the very least, this album should go down as one of the five best metal/hard rock albums of all time, if not as the best. It's an album you can bang your head to, smoke a bowl to, deliver pizzas to, or make out to (can you say that for Megadeth's Peace Sells … But Who's Buying? I think not). Layered with baroque guitars, drawing room Satanism, and what must have been attempts at "spooky" synthesizer parts, Blizzard of Ozz succeeds because it has no real excess. Instrumentation is kept simple, guitar solos appear where they should (no "Hotel California" here), and Ozzy's vocals remain convincing even after all these years. I can't wait for the next generation of 40 year olds to come around and acknowledge this as an important album. Songwriters of the future will look back and thank Blizzard for making the word "afterbirth" an acceptable lyric choice. Critics of the future will remark upon how amazing it was that Blizzard was never taken seriously until the 2000s. And teenagers of the future will appreciate the album how they always have: in the back seat of a used car with a twelve-pack of stolen beer helping to release their need to rock.
Review by Mazzy Stevens |