Remembering an Icon: Ozzy Osbourne

Ozzy Osbourne was more than the godfather of metal—he was a horror icon and a voice for the beautifully strange souls who never quite fit in.

“Ozzy Osbourne” by Ted Van Pelt is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

MORBID MINI: Ozzy Osbourne helped shape not only metal music but the spooky sensibilities of a generation that saw something tender beneath the chaos. As with all great horror icons, his power came not from fear but from feeling—and maybe that’s why his loss cuts so deep. We thought he was immortal… and in some ways, he still is.

I was pretty little the first time I heard “See You on the Other Side”, but I knew it was something special, one of those songs that would follow me through every stage of my life. I think a lot of us have Ozzy Osbourne songs like that.

While Ozzy is largely acknowledged for his contributions (myriad) to metal, the trailblazer had a mainstream appeal that many pop artists would kill for. Such was the genius of Ozzy; he could write “War Pigs” or he could write “Mama I’m Coming Home”, and both would be fucking amazing.

Metal has long been a genre closely entwined with horror. The older I get, the more I realize it’s not because either category is tough or scary; it’s because we’re all massive dorks. Ozzy was no exception, representing both horror and metal. Fans can see the influence of our spooky forefathers written all over Osbourne’s work. We’ve got “Bark at the Moon”, “Diary of a Madman”, “My Jekyll Doesn’t Hide”—all tips of the hat to the genre we love.

However, like many great terror icons, Ozzie had an incredibly soft underbelly. “See You on the Other Side” is a power ballad of the highest caliber. “Close My Eyes Forever” is a heart-breaking rumination on mortality. Never forget-Ozzy had fucking RANGE.

And he worked with the best: Tony Iommi, Rhoads, Zakk Wylde… the man knew how to choose collaborators.

Like many who grew up listening to “No More Tears” (a bop of a song about a serial killer AND a hell of an album), I grew away from Ozzy at a certain point. I think that point was probably The Osbournes, a show that made the Prince of Darkness into something a little sad and pitiable. It was perhaps the first time in my life I felt I was witnessing someone, in real time, being sort of managed and handled by a more dominant personality.

There’s something to be said for making your heroes accessible, but that was never what I wanted from Ozzy.

“Ozzy Osbourne in Philly” by Kevin Burkett is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Despite this, I never lost my affection for the strange, vaguely deranged teddy bear of a man.

As with many great horror icons, it was often hard to tell where the affectation ended and the man shouting “SHA-RON” began; maybe there never was any difference. Maybe that’s the really beautiful thing about Ozzy and horror and gentleness and melancholy and humor… they can all exist and be real without truly cancelling each other out.

The same guy who bit the head off of a bat did a voice for Trolls World Tour.

When a celebrity dies, the world reacts to what that person meant to them, not the loss of the actual person, no matter how pure the intentions, because we didn’t really KNOW that person. With Ozzy, it feels a little more personal. Even knowing a reality show is curated to the nines, it still feels a little bit more like we knew him.

I think many of us understood that Ozzy would someday die, without ever really truly believing it. Somehow, he seemed immortal.

“Ozzy Osbourne 2008-03-15” by Kyle Overholtzer is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.

It is poignantly fitting that Ozzy was able to perform one final concert with Black Sabbath before his passing; despite being relatively removed from the Ozzy sphere at this stage of my life, I was moved to see him once again on stage, in front of an audience that adored him.

It is, in some ways, reminiscent of Bowie releasing “Blackstar” two days before his death; perhaps that is the blessing and the curse of the artist. To sense the sand in your hourglass is running out and to rush to create one final, beautiful burst of art. A gift to leave the screaming crowds.

Whatever the case may be… Ozzy Osbourne changes the face of music.

He helped shape metal. He helped shape horror. He helped shape countless lonely, spooky kids who found solace in his music (and god knows, I am one). And he will be missed.

We’ll see you on the other side, Oz.