Black Sabbath.
No credit is given in this CD for "lyricist" and I would have presumed the lyrics to be made by Ozzy Osbourne, simply because he's the singer; however, it turns out that the lyrics on this CD were made up by the bass player. As far as that goes, I'm convinced the man couldn't write. Compared to... anybody... on my blog roll, this guy (and by extension Ozzy) comes across as a subliterate caveman. Therefore, I shall not be quoting a single line from this one. Call me a snob if you like.
Historically, by taking the guitar-heavy blues-rock of Cream and turning it into sludge, dismissing everything the 60s stood for, this 1970 album was adored by disaffected youth, panned by the critics and stood as the birth of heavy metal. Rarely are influence, enthusiasm and criticism all perfectly understandable, but in this case I can see where everybody was coming from.
There's no denying Black Sabbath's influence; there's no denying that the cover art is October dynamite, or that they improved significantly on future records. I would argue that their overlong medleys are where this record really shines, giving them time to wander down any alley they choose, earnestly crafting a soundscape that escapes the more tightly reigned in songs. In that way also, Sabbath becomes an inverted Cream. In a way, they even pioneered the "morbid concept album" that I've been celebrating this month.
Who's who: guitarist Tony Iommi, provider of all the fireworks; Terence "Geezer" Butler on bass as well as lyrics; drummer and percussionist Bill Ward; and Ozzy for harmonica and singing - the latter of which is incredibly distinctive, but quite ugly as well. His voice matches the words he sings, and this gives the listener a choice of interpretation: is the narrative clunky because it's an Everyman incoherent in the face of dark powers, or is it actually a tripping college boy, overtaken with admiration for Aleister Crowley, gone off his nut? Take your pick.
The band keeps it simple, managing to name itself, its debut and its introductory song all Black Sabbath. The opening soundtrack of rain, thunder and tolling bell (think of a funeral) is by far the best part of it, as soon the guitar kicks in, running its dirge-like riff into the ground while the band mutters around Ozzy's paranoid encounter with ultimate evil. Eventually this becomes interminable, at which point the band finally loosens up and rocks like hell, stodgy riff thankfully left behind in the ensuing melee. For menace, nothing beats Ozzy screaming for help as if he really means it, but the good and bad on this one lean heavily against each other.
The Wizard, at four minutes, is the shortest track and an anomaly. The harmonica is what you'll remember; the song is out of place, as the mysterious wizard goes around making people feel happy. Word has it that it's talking about the group's drug dealer. Dealer or benevolent magician as it may be, taking the peril from the equation really messes up the effect and leaves this song as filler to my ears, despite its memorable riff.
First of the medleys is Wasp/Behind the Wall of Sleep/Bassically/N.I.B. It gets off to an agreeably rocking start, though Ozzy's first lines are good for a wince. It evens out pretty soon and the use of imagination helps fill in between the lines - something about being put on trial in dreams. Guitars pause, leaving Bill Ward to fill things out and fade into the next scene. Focus goes over to the bassist, soloing into a handy bridge for the next Ozzy-led bit. The only problem with this segment is Ozzy shouting "oh yeah!" and putting a crimp in the atmosphere. Otherwise, it's quite appealing; it's got jive and energy, it's a love song from Lucifer and the musicians are all in top form. Standout.
Side 2 tries for some sort of social commentary with Wicked World. It's also high on energy, but again, there's something constrained in the layout. It does have a gorgeous bridge, assuming a psychedelic bent that ends in an Iommi solo. Nice touches like that really liven up the proceedings.
Fourteen minutes is given to the last act, which is much too long (the other was only ten!). A Bit of Finger/Sleeping Village/Warning. It's got acoustic guitar and a jew's harp to start, and the best lyric by far, an evocative and sadly short fragment before it's back to the usual suspect: heavy metal. Again, the music wanders about, hooking onto a riff, a tune, before moving on, getting a new tempo, cutting back to the last bit and expecting you to keep it all straight. Ozzy gets back into the game, this time with a diatribe against the devil as a woman. At least, I think that's what he's on about. It's not as good as the N.I.B. segment was, going on much too long, though when the group gets into an uptempo place, the result is good music.
Without further adieu, the whole record ceases there. Verdict? It's always good to hear a groundbreaking musical act, but to equate groundbreaking with genius would be a mistake. Black Sabbath was a nifty idea, but in my opinion, one deeply flawed in execution. I'd say if you're looking for heavy rock with claustrophobic and occult tendencies, you'd be better off trying their follow-up Paranoid, or Bowie's Man Who Sold the World. If you want the best of the guitar rock groups of the era, Led Zeppelin's the real deal. But then, I'm less than ideally suited to Sabbath, placing so much weight in lyrics. This still comes recommended as a necessary excerpt in the history of rock.
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