Seeing Ozzy surrounded by generations he had inspired 'was a life-changing experience'

Robbed of his ability to walk by Parkinson's, the Black Sabbath founding member still showed hallmarks of classic Ozzy, grimacing and flashing horns at the crowd before leading them to wave along to his music

Ozzy Osbourne leads the crowd during his final set with Black Sabbath. Picture: David O'Mahony

Few people in the music world can legitimately lay claim to being an icon, and fewer still can remain at the top of their game for the better part of five decades — or to have pioneered a whole new genre.

With Ozzy Osbourne’s passing, only the three surviving founding members of Black Sabbath can now say that.

Pick a heavy metal band, and they’ll ultimately be inspired by Black Sabbath. But it stretched way beyond that into all sorts of genres. 

Even one of the bands that got me seriously into rock and punk, Green Day, played Ozzy’s song  Crazy Train at their first ever jam session. The fact that people as diverse as Dolly Parton and Elton John sent video messages to be screened at his final concert testifies to the tremendous goodwill Ozzy built up over decades, and nations, and genres, regardless of his personal troubles.

Making it to Villa Park at the start of the month for his (and Sabbath’s) farewell show was one of those things that’s going to stay with me.

He could have played it anywhere, but instead, matching the theme of 'Back to the Beginning', he played at his soccer team’s grounds within walking distance of the house he’d grown up in.

In ages, it stretched from his peers to kids young enough to be his grandchildren, and somewhere in the middle were people like me, who find their greatest expressions through listening to, well, everything (but death metal in moderation, please).

The show at Villa Park was almost a blink and you’ll miss it experience, but running the gamut from rock and roll to thrash metal to progressive metal,  there wasn’t a band or musician from across the metal world who didn’t show an obvious debt to him or his Sabbath comrades.

From left: Geezer Butler, Tommy Iommi, and Ozzy Osbourne from Black Sabbath with their Album of the Year award for '13', Event of the Year, and Living Legend award at the Classic Rock Roll of Honour at The Roundhouse, Camden, London. Picture: Ian West/PA

It had everything from old Ozzy comrades on stage (Jake E Lee), to Tool performing on camera for the first time, to Jason Momoa joining the moshpit during Pantera’s set. Not just a celebration of music and legacy, but of life itself. 

With each band performing at least one Black Sabbath song (Guns ‘N’ Roses did four) or one of his solo tracks, it was a reminder that no matter what the background, their work could just slip right in.

For me, some three decades as a metalhead (and proud of it), I had almost given up on the chance of seeing him live. I knew his songs long before I’d given any serious time to Black Sabbath.

Listening back at them now, it’s amazing to think of the breadth of his solo career — even if he nearly destroyed it several times due to chronic substance problems

I was supposed to see him a lifetime ago during Ozzfest when it came to Punchestown, though he was sick on the day and couldn’t perform (still, Tool took the headline slot in one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen).

This would have been at the height of The Osbournes TV series, where he ended up slightly reinvented, and more beloved, as the more befuddled dad than Prince of Darkness. To see him in the flesh, and surrounded by the generations of musicians he had in some way inspired (and I’m a fan of many, from Slayer to Ghost), was a life-changing experience.

Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne on stage at the Olympic Torch concert in The Mall, London, England. Picture: Myung Jung Kim/PA

I’m glad he got to say goodbye on his own terms, and I’m glad the 45,000 people at Villa Park, including my 20-year-old nephew (“I feel like I’ve just seen my god in the flesh”), and the millions of people who livestreamed it got to see him on stage one last time.

“I’ve pretty much been laid up for the last six years,” he told us during a five-song set of his solo work before a four-song reunion with Black Sabbath.

Even robbed of his ability to walk by Parkinson’s, which had also affected his vocal range (but not his power), he still showed hallmarks of classic Ozzy, grimacing and flashing horns at the crowd before leading them to wave along to his music. 

One of the biggest cheers went up when he tried to raise himself up out his chair, like all his instincts were telling him.

Plenty of otherwise stoic folks got a bit misty around the eyes during his ballad, Mama I’m Coming Home

There was something about it, something about the emotion on his face and the catch in his voice that meant everybody in the stadium had an inkling, watching him, that we were in his latter days, even if we all half expected him to defy the odds and go on forever.

Even with the final strains of the Sabbath classic Paranoid ringing to bring the curtain down on an epic career the likes of which we’ll never see again, we all hoped that maybe, just maybe, he had one more song in him, or one more project. Alas, he has not.

The Crazy Train may have left the station one last time, but having raised nearly $200m for charity with that final concert, it left with one of the finest legacies in rock. 

Would that we could all go out on a high like that.

• David O'Mahony is the assistant editor at the Irish Examiner and resident office metalhead