Friday Full-Length: Ozzy Osbourne, Diary of a Madman
Ozzy Osbourne, Diary of a Madman (1981)
Nostalgia, plain and simple. I have a lot of positive associations with Diary of a Madman, as I do with other early Ozzy Osbourne solo works like 1980’s Blizzard of Ozz and 1983’s Bark at the Moon, as well as the 1987 Tribute live album honoring guitarist Randy Rhoads, who passed away on tour in 1982. Diary of a Madman, then, is the last record Rhoads also played on, and it’s also the last Ozzy album to feature drummer Lee Kerslake, who passed died of cancer last month and was also a former member of Uriah Heep.
Of course, bassist Bob Daisley and Kerslake were thoroughly screwed over first when not initially given credit for appearing and writing on the album and then in 2002 when their bass and drum tracks were re-recorded by then-Ozzy band members Robert Trujillo (now Metallica) and Mike Bordijn (Faith No More). Might be heresy to say it, but I thought Trujillo‘s punchy bass worked well behind the sharp cut-through of Rhoads‘ guitar tone, though of course the contractual disagreement, lawsuit (which Kerslake and Daisley won) and questionable business ethics involved in replacing those parts of the original LP tally up to a conclusion of “probably never should’ve happened in the first place.” In any case, it wasn’t Trujillo or Bordijn‘s fault.
But the original Diary of a Madman remains a special beast. Released in Nov. 1981, it is an album I associate with the end of summer and the coming of Fall — something about the crispness of its production. Its title-track gives it a somewhat darker atmosphere, building on the inclusion of classical acoustic guitar of “Revelation: Mother Earth” from the album prior, but the rockers-up-front momentum established with “Over the Mountain” and “Flying High Again” is quintessential Ozzy and arguably the best one-two punch he’d offer in his now-40-year-long solo career.
That’s not to take away from “I Don’t Know” and “Crazy Train” at the outset of Blizzard of Ozz — I’d never recommend consuming one album and totally ignoring the other; they’re both pivotal documents of heavy metal, in the ’80s and more generally — but the purpose is so clear on Diary of a Madman, the engagement with the audience so direct, and where Blizzard was casting an identity for who Ozzy Osbourne would be as a frontman after being unceremoniously dismissed
from Black Sabbath following 1978’s Never Say Die!, the shift from 1980 and 1981, the time on tour, meant that identity was set and Diary of a Madman could be approached with confidence, with character and with a feel that would continue to define Osbourne‘s work on various levels throughout the rest of his career to-date.
It is unmistakably a classic.
And maybe for that reason, and the fact that I have a strong personal association with these songs — I remember riding around with older friends before I had a drivers license of my own, absolutely blasting the album, 20-odd years ago — it’s harder to think objectively or write about, but that’s always been part of the appeal of Ozzy‘s solo work as well. He’s never been a critical success in the moment. It’s been through hindsight and audience response/loyalty that he and his band have most made their mark over time.
To an extent, one might say the same of Black Sabbath, though I’d put that group’s influence in a greater echelon at this point — notably, one might not have said the same thing before Osbourne reunited with Sabbath in 1997 and thereby introduced an entirely new generation (mine, for what it’s worth) to the experience of that band on stage. Even Osbourne‘s 2020 studio album, Ordinary Man (review here), which is his first in a decade, featured a host of guests, ace, energetic songwriting, and was came along with the news of a diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease on the part of the metallic godfather himself was greeted with a collective critical shrug. So it goes, and while I doubt Ordinary Man will have the lasting impact of Diary of a Madman or other early Ozzy LPs — because how many times can you really ask lightning to strike? — the point stands.
Dig further into Diary of a Madman and you’ll find more atmosphere and little dip in quality from its outset. “‘You Can’t Kill Rock ‘n’ Roll,” at six and a half minutes, is a glorious showcase for Rhoads and what seems to be an attempt to out-Rainbow Rainbow — keyboardist Don Airey played in both groups, Johnny Cook played on this album because Airey was on tour — and feels absolutely written for the stage, while “Believer” and “Little Dolls” offer sneaky hooks and more further air-tight performances by the trio being Osbourne himself. Tucked away neatly on side B, “Tonight” flirts effectively with more commercial fare, and it’s contrasted by the album’s hidden gem in the more chaotic “S.A.T.O.,” on which Kerslake shines in manic fashion, Rhoads indulges a bit of noise, Daisley holds it all together and Osbourne still manages to sneak in a chorus.
Somewhat overshadowed by the closing title-track that follows, “S.A.T.O.” carries a proto-thrash spirit and is about as dirty as Diary of a Madman gets, the usual poised stateliness of Rhoads‘ playing — recall that at this point, heavy metal was largely questing for legitimacy as a genre — let loose a bit over the charging progression of the central groove. Slower, and with a more dramatic, narrative spirit — the string and choral arrangements help — “Diary of a Madman” rounds out with a willful delve into grandiosity that the rest of the album has largely avoided and works all the more for that. It is distinct among Osbourne‘s output before or since, and I’ll gladly place it among the most important heavy metal songs ever written.
At this point, Diary of a Madman and the era of Ozzy Osbourne‘s career it represents have a legacy all their own, apart from what came before or after. Maybe you have your own memories tied to it, or maybe not. Either way, the accomplishments of craft and performance it carries remain vital. To call it a landmark doesn’t suffice, but it is that anyhow.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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Rainy Friday morning. Blah. Maybe I’ll get to run later. It’s been a while since I did so during daylight hours, might be interesting. Might not. I should’ve gone yesterday AM but wanted to finish writing and was beat besides.
Up and down week. Yesterday was brutal, and I’m not just talking about how metal the Enslaved stream was. The morning went relatively quick, but I’d swear the seven hours between 11AM-6PM were some of the longest I’ve ever had. Dead on my feet. Just totally dead. And I made the mistake of letting The Pecan stay downstairs and hang out rather than go up for nap since I knew he’d just run in his closet and poop and need to be changed then not sleep anyway. No right answer there, it seems.
And the rest of the week before that? I don’t know. Busy, maybe? Grocery shopping? Being worried about the election? Looking at construction equipment with The Pecan? I know I ate too much nut butter (made a hazelnut/salted macadamia combo that was facemeltingly good) and felt bad about that, if that helps. And I wanted to cook chicken and make pesto all week and didn’t have the energy to do it. So there’s life as it is, I guess. Today’s my day. Spaghetti squash awaits. Tanner Olson from Across Tundras was kind enough to send me some garlic from his farm in Nebraska and I intend to put it to use.
His new album is out today. It’s Bandcamp Friday. I posted a few links to stuff on Thee Facebooks, but if you didn’t see, it was Kind, White Canyon & the 5th Dimension, REZN, Revvnant and Changeörder. Support.
New Gimme show at 5pm today.
Next week is the Quarterly Review. I have no idea how I’ll get through it but what else is new.
Alright, that’s enough for me. Be safe, hydrate. Have fun. All that.
FRM.
Tags: Birmingham, Diary of a Madman, Jet Records, Ozzy Osbourne, Ozzy Osbourne Diary of a Madman, UK
