Black Sabbath, Mob Rules (1981)

It’s been a quick four years since the passing of Ronnie James Dio. One of heavy metal’s most principle figures, an inimitable voice that continues to ring out a righteousness that the entire genre in its wake has aspired to, Dio succumbed to stomach cancer on May 16, 2010. From The Vegas Kings through Elf, Rainbow, Black Sabbath, Dio and, finally, Heaven and Hell, his was a legacy a lifetime in the making. He was there at metal’s birth, and as a frontman and the architect of some of its most landmark moments — from Rainbow‘s Long Live Rock and Roll to Black Sabbath‘s Dehumanizer — he was human, had his ups and downs, but was as close to a god as anyone singing in a rock and roll band ever could. Truly larger than life, as the inspiration he continues to spark proves every day.

Though at the time of his death he was talking about getting back with the Dio band and creating the second and third parts of what would have made a trilogy out of the narrative to the 2000 concept album, Magica, his last studio-recorded output was Heaven and Hell’s The Devil You Know (review here), which reunited him with Black Sabbath‘s Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Vinny Appice. They toured on that album, were a stately live act, and did justice to the Dio-fronted Sabbath more than I think anyone could have anticipated. Thinking about hearing them play “Falling off the Edge of the World” from 1981’s Mob Rules, I still get a chill up my spine.

That song, the penultimate on the Mob Rules before the epilogue of “Over and Over,” is just one of the factors making the album so essential. The follow-up to Sabbath‘s 1980 debut with Dio in the vocalist role replacing Ozzy Osbourne, Heaven and Hell, it built on that record stylistically, whether it was Iommi making another toss-off single into a landmark opener with “Turn up the Night,” or the bizarre sway of “Country Girl,” the epic “Sign of the Southern Cross” or the sing-along in the making “Slipping Away,” Mob Rules was an album that ingrained itself on heavy metal’s consciousness, and its reverberations continue to be felt. Through his work, timeless, Ronnie James Dio remains vital and very much present. Here. We may never get another Dio album — posthumous live releases, collections and tributes notwithstanding — or another tour, but Dio‘s catalog is a canon that generations to come will explore and grow to love, just as generations have done for the last 40-plus years.

Enjoy.

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Quick week, but I guess that’ll happen without a Monday. I was driving back north from being in New Jersey last weekend. Didn’t hear any complaints and wouldn’t really expect to, but in case anyone was wondering what was up, that was it. Pretty rare at his point that I’ll take a whole day off between Monday and Friday, but every now and then it’s unavoidable. Believe me, as I sat in the seemingly eternal traffic of I-95 North, the compulsion was there.

Heading out to see Swans in Boston tomorrow, which I’m very much looking forward to. I’ve been battling in my head back and forth which show I’m more excited for, them or Fu Manchu, but I think it’s a different appeal either way. That Fu show is on Tuesday, and I’ll have a review on Wednesday. Next Friday, Negative Reaction come north. They’re always a good time as well, and it’s been a minute at this point, so I’m looking forward to that too. Doesn’t look like there’s much of a way to lose.

Well, changing up the radio adds modus seems to have fallen flat at least in terms of the immediate response, but I’ll keep it going for a bit anyway, see if anything catches on. Can’t really judge anything by its first day, especially on a Friday. Was grateful to see the Fu Manchu review getting shared around. Hey, it’s the internet. I don’t get a lot of comments, so I take what I can get in terms of judging a response. If that’s Facebook likes for the time being, then until something else comes along, so be it. I appreciate it all, each one, everything. Thanks to everybody who downloaded the podcast as well. It’s been a while since I was able to do one of those, and I was glad to see there were still a few people interested.

There’s more stuff next week I’d like to plug, but it’s late and I’d rather just let the Sabbath ride out. I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Please check out the forum and radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Are You Experienced (1967)

Earlier today I had what I can only refer to as a Hendrix-panic. I was minding my own business this afternoon and all of a sudden, nothing else would do. It was Jimi Hendrix or it was nothing, and it’s almost never nothing, so there you go. I put on “May this be Love,” so it seemed only fair to cap the week with the record it comes from, 1967’s Are You Experienced, the debut from The Jimi Hendrix Experience. Yeah, it’s an obvious choice — nothing underground about it unless you’re listening for the proto-heavy that’s in there that others won’t hear — but what the hell, it’s about as classic as classic gets.

This is the version with bonus tracks. Under normal circumstances, I’d prefer to keep it to the original tracklisting, but in this age of at-no-cost immediate access, I won’t play the choosy beggar. At least not this time. I figured there wasn’t much likelihood of complaint about an hour of Hendrix either way, and Are You Experienced is one of those records that’s so omnipresent I feel like it’s almost passed over. It’s a given. Think of listening to it again like re-reading Huck Finn, or watching Spaceballs or Young Frankenstein again as an adult. Totally different level of enjoyment. When was the last time you really listened to this album?

For me it was a couple hours ago, but I think the point stands. There ain’t no life nowhere.

—

Pretty wild couple days this week. Monday feels like forever ago for only having been the usual number of hours. Next week’s even farther away from sane with the Thanksgiving holiday and all. I’ll have a new podcast put together sometime, maybe have it go up on Thursday if I’m feeling fancy and want to mark the occasion. The Patient Mrs. and I are headed out of town to see family for the weekend — traveling from Massachusetts to Maryland, to Jersey, to NYC, to Massachusetts over the course of four days — so I won’t have much else up toward the end of this week coming up, but things will get back to normal after that. At least for a month.

I’ll also be back in New York on Dec. 5 and 6 for shows. Want to see Mountain God and The Golden Grass and it just happens they’re playing on successive nights. I’d call myself a citizen of the East Coast if I didn’t think it’d make me sound like a pretentious jackass. Cough cough.

Before my wife and dog and I hit the road, look out for reviews of Sylvia and Black Skies, new audio from Elliott’s Keep and the aforementioned podcast, as well as whatever else I can think of to toss in there and whatever it might be that I know I’m forgetting to mention. There’s something. I know there’s something. Ah well. If I can think of it, I’ll let you know.

And if not, I’m pretty sure you’ll survive. In so doing, I hope you’ll have a great and safe weekend and that you’ll please take some time to check out the forum and radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell (1980)

I just wanted to end this week with an album I love. On a high note, maybe, but even more than that, just something that I can’t see being the person I am without. So here we go, Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell. It’s not a record I can claim to be Johnny Groundfloor on — it came out a year before I was born — but it has touched me profoundly over the years and I’ve gone back to it over time the way you do to things when they become a part of who you are. It’s been a while since last I made my way through, and I’ve missed it. Fucking “Children of the Sea.”

Yeah, you can go ahead and argue in favor of Ozzy-fronted Sabbath. I don’t even necessarily disagree. The way I see it, Master of Reality is just about the best heavy album ever made. It’s apples and oranges — or for a comparison of two even more disparate things — Ozzy and Dio. I’m glad both exist, I’m glad Geezer Butler played in both and I’m happy to leave it at that.

—

What a week. If I was drinking, I’d already be drunk. I was out this afternoon to meet with a guy from the Massachusetts Small Business Development Center to explore funding options for buying a bar. It went like this: “Uh, I see here you’re poor. There’s no funding for poor people.” I’m not out yet, though that was a fun hit to take. Then I went to the grocery store and had — not one, but two! — debit cards declined. I was doing a pretty good job on the maintaining thing, keeping my head together, but then it was time to break out Heaven and Hell, which is right up there in my book with watching Futurama in the dark.

Normally — though using such a word feels like a perversion of the concept — I’d probably follow up the one (Heaven and Hell) with the other (Futurama in the dark), but instead of sitting on my ass and wallowing in the waste of space and precious oxygen I’ve let myself become, I’m going out tonight. Gonna go catch Cortez and Pants Exploder at Radio in Somerville, then tomorrow there’s an early show for Esoteric and I might just hit that too, because fuck it, music’s still good.

There was a lot this week I didn’t get to post. In addition to reviews for one or both of the shows above, look for reviews to come of The Freeks and Mos Generator, an interview one way or another with Dave Wyndorf of Monster Magnet and some new audio from Supervoid. So there’s a lot as ever. I’ve got some work-type work to finish up, so I’m going to get through that while Heaven and Hell rounds out and then have a bite to eat before I head to Radio for that show. If you’re going, I hope I’ll see you there.

And even if not, I hope you have a great and safe weekend. If you get the chance, please hit up the forum and the radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

Prepare to be underwhelmed…

About two weeks ago, I took part with a slew of other alt-weekly journo types in a conference call with Ozzy Osbourne about the new Black Sabbath album, 13 (review here). It was an hour long and there were I think 20 or so writers involved. Everyone, I was told, would get to ask at least one question.

I had never done a conference call before, and the idea seemed lame, but it was my only chance to get even a smattering of phone time with Ozzy and not-at-all-blown-away-by-13 though I was, I wasn’t going to miss probably the only chance I’d ever have to ask him anything, let alone something about the process of making this album after talking about it for so long.

Before calling in to the weird phone chat thing — like a partyline of people who’ve made terrible life choices — I made a list of questions to pick from should I be lucky enough to actually get a word in. All my questions were among the first asked, and not by me. By the time it was finally my turn to ask something, I had nothing left and had to come up with one on the fly.

So, after being a Sabbath fan for more than half my life and finally getting an opportunity to speak to Ozzy Osbourne himself (a man who has clearly had no shortage of media training), here’s how it went down — my question and a follow-up:

—

I just wanted to ask you a little bit about the sort of reception to the new material live. Obviously, there’s Sabbath’s catalog of classics, but in terms of mixing new songs in and the shows you’ve already done…

Ozzy Osbourne: So we recently went to New Zealand, Australia, and Japan, and we did a couple of the new songs. We said they’re all new. God, you’d think it had been released as a single or a first track off album, and so that – I remember when we played two shows in Auckland, New Zealand.

The first night they didn’t really respond much to it. The second night they’re all singing the lyrics with me. I’m going, I can’t even remember them that good. I mean, it’s good for us as well to do new stuff, because you know, we’re all tuned into “Iron Man,” “War Pigs,” “Paranoid,” and all of the old classics, but instead, it gives us as a band something refreshing to put into the show, and so I’m just glad that people have bought into the new songs.

You mentioned before the songs being in sort of a middle range you could bring live. How much of a consideration when you guys were writing the album was doing the songs live?

Ozzy Osbourne: Well, after keeping the people waiting for as long as we did, I certainly — I can still get the range, but I can’t do it onstage. Maybe one gig I can do it onstage, but then it’d be every other night, I mean, my voice gets tired you know? And so I personally specifically went in the studio and kept it a little comfortable range that I could do onstage, you know.

—

On the other end of the line from one of heavy metal’s true gods and I’m left asking about… playing the new songs live. As if he doesn’t shout, “Here’s one off the new album!” and everyone goes to get a beer in time to be back for “Into the Void.” I’d call it a bummer if it wasn’t so much better than nothing.

I didn’t attempt to dial in for another round, but didn’t hang up either, and just listened to the rest of the hour as other writers from around the country took turns flattering and lobbing softballs. The first question had been about Bill Ward and that got shut down pretty quickly to more or less set the tone. By the end of it, charismatic though Osbourne is and though — as with the record — I’d expected no more than I got, I had gone back to checking my email.

And there you have it.

Black Sabbath, “Naïveté in Black” (2013)

I can no more pretend to be impartial about a new Black Sabbath album than I can about a member of my own family. Further, I don’t think any critic who can claim otherwise has any business reviewing 13, the first studio full-length by Black Sabbath proper since 1995’s Forbidden ended a lackluster streak with vocalist Tony Martin prior to a 1997 reunion with Ozzy Osbourne, the successor in many ways to guitarist Tony Iommi and Geezer Butler’s 2007 reunion with Ronnie James Dio that resulted in Heaven and Hell’s 2009 outing, The Devil You Know (review here), and an album which – had Dio survived his bout with stomach cancer – probably wouldn’t exist. Prior to Dio’s passing, Iommi – whose band Sabbath has always been – showed roughly no interest in getting back together with Osbourne at the fore and seemed content to let Black Sabbath’s original frontman languish on his path of a declining solo career. Sabbath had done live stints between 1997 and 2006, and in 1998 released the “Psycho Man” single to promote their aptly-titled Reunion double-live album, but another studio full-length with Iommi, Osbourne, Butler and drummer Bill Ward seemed like a daydream. Of course, it still is. In 2011, when the band announced they were together with the completion of an album in sight, the shockwave resonated far and wide, but a contract dispute with Ward resulted in Rage Against the Machine drummer Brad Wilk joining in his place for the recording of the Rick Rubin-produced 13. This would be narrative context enough were it not for 13’s being touted as an attempt to recapture the feel of the original Sabbath – untouchable records like 1970’s self-titled debut, the same year’s follow-up, Paranoid, the stonerly perfection of 1971’s Master of Reality and 1972’s Vol. 4 – and were it not for Iommi’s own cancer battle, which it’s easy to read 13 tracks like “End of the Beginning,” “Live Forever,” “God is Dead?” and “Damaged Soul” as reaction toward, regardless of whether or not they actually are.

First, whoever decided to bill 13 as a return to Sabbath’s heyday was a fool. 13 neither picks up where the band’s last Osbourne-fronted outing, 1978’s Never Say Die, left off, nor harkens back to the band’s earliest glories in any way other than periodically recycling a riff. As regards the production, it is stale in the modern commercial metal sense, and if Rubin’s stamp is anywhere on it, it holds about as much meaning in terms of authenticity as the “organic” produce at WalMart. Drums are triggered – for the most part, Wilk is a nonentity here, personality-wise, injecting simple fills and keeping a beat when called upon to do so (good work if you can get it) – guitars and bass are “corrected” and if there was any thought that Osbourne’s vocals were going to be presented in anything close to their natural state, let it be corrected by the ending apex of 13 opener “End of the Beginning,” on which he goes from his half-spoken drawl suddenly to suddenly pitch-perfect high notes for the line, “I don’t want to see you, yeah, yeah,” and then does it again – the irony being that in the prior verse come the lyrics, “You don’t want to be a robot ghost/Occupied inside a human host.” Granted, Dio’s vocals on The Devil You Know had pitch correction as well, and he sang to backup tracks on Heaven and Hell’s final tours, but he could sing! Osbourne could never hit the kinds of notes in “End of the Beginning.” In Sabbath, he had maybe three years where one would be right on a technical level to call him a singer and not only a frontman – 1974-1976 – and even then he knew better than to attempt such theatrics. It’s the first of many instances throughout of Black Sabbath playing it safe on 13, creating a sterile and in some cases cynical collection of self-aware heavy metal that only in the work of Iommi and Butler does any justice whatsoever to the band’s legacy. It’s an album they’ll be able to go out and tour on, but for fans of Sabbath who had some hope that 13 might come along and revitalize the career of one of the acts singularly responsible for the creation of heavy metal and its many subgenres – most particularly doom – all these eight tracks do is realize how foolish and unrealistic those hopes were in the first place.

All this I know, and then that utter lack of impartiality kicks in and I think of 13 as being Black Sabbath’s final album. I think of how closer “Dear Father” ends with the same sampled thunderstorm that starts their eponymous song at the beginning of Black Sabbath, the sheer foreboding meaning of that bookend in light of Iommi’s cancer – that this is it, that he’s dying – and even the lame, watered-down revisit of that atmosphere on “End of the Beginning” and the hackneyed lyrics of the following “God is Dead?” and “Loner” seem excusable as pathways to one last collection of Iommi riffs and solos, best accompanied as they’ve always been by Butler’s trailblazing bass work (the easy argument is that he’s the most vital member of the band, and 13 bears that out), and though it’s a shame Ward isn’t a part of it, shouldn’t I just take what I can get and as someone who’s had his life changed by Sabbath’s work be happy? Isn’t it enough that Sabbath have another record? Does it really need to be good, too?

Yes and no. As I said, 13 is an album that Black Sabbath – Iommi, Butler, Osbourne and Wilk or whoever they get – will be able to go out and tour arenas. They’ll put a couple new songs in the set along with the hits they’ve played on and off for over a decade, and if it’s to be Iommi’s last hurrah, no one will ever be able to say he didn’t earn it. Fans who saw them in their first run will go, younger fans will go, headbangers of all kinds of all generations, everywhere they go, the venues will be full. It will be successful. Even being panned by critics won’t matter – Sabbath have the armor of never having been a “critic’s band,” so  that even though the critics now may be two generations’ worth of Sabbath fans critiquing a hollow representation of what made them legends, they’re protected by the number of people who show up, the sheer scale of their profile. Fine. Records like Master of Reality, Black Sabbath and 1973’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath will belong to the underground no matter how many copies they sell, and for every one oldschool Sabbath fan who refuses to see what he or she alleges is a false version of the original band, two more are willing to buy that ticket. Neither side of the argument needs the other at this point, and history is on the band’s side – with over 20 people in and out of the lineup over the years, who’s to say what’s genuine? Sabbath will do what they will do to reach as broad an audience as possible – reuniting with Osbourne instead of, say, Ian Gillan of Deep Purple, with whom Iommi recently collaborated for the Whocares benefit single, speaks to wanting to gather maximum interest – and those unable to reconcile themselves to what the band has become don’t need to have a part in it if they choose to not. If Sabbath know the difference at this point, I certainly can’t imagine they give a rat’s ass. Ward was their tie to the authenticity they purported to be tapping into for the recording of 13, and they were quick enough to let him go. Does the album need to be good? Well, it needs a logo.

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I just wanted to take a minute to mark out three full years since the passing of Ronnie James Dio. Short of thinking of every scumbag motherfucker still roaming the earth while he’s not and making myself angry, I’d rather not get lost in memorializing — everything’s been said and by people with better sentence structures than mine — but if heavy metal has a hall of immortals it’s only because Ronnie James Dio built it from the ground up. He remains, and will remain, much missed.

This clip of Dehumanizer-era Sabbath doing “Children of the Sea” is one of literally thousands out there, and if you find yourself lost among them and exploring one into the next into the next, I’m sure there are worse ways you could spend that time. Ronnie James Dio, 1942-2010.

Black Sabbath,”Children of the Sea” Live in Rio de Janeiro, 1992

Monty Python’s Flying Circus, s01e03: “How to Recognize Different Types of Trees from Quite a Long Way Away”

And now for something completely different…

Yes, I decided to end this week with a full episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, because it’s brilliant. Do I really need to present arguments in its favor? Some highlights of this episode include — of course — the Larch, Bicycle Repair Man, and the Nudge Nudge sketch, which is worth half an hour of viewing time on its own. If you don’t make it through the whole thing, I’ll just assume it’s because you already know it by heart.

Also one of the best (or at least most honest) YouTube comments I’ve ever seen: “i love how they dont have any girls…….. its just them :P”

Congratulations, bro. That’s why girls don’t like you or Monty Python. That comment has 14 thumbs up responses. No shit. Comedy is everywhere.

Sometimes it’s handy to remind yourself of that, which I suppose to is part of why I decided to roll with “How to Recognize Different Types of Trees from Quite a Long Way Away.” I’ll keep this brief because frankly I want to get back to watching Monty Python and get away from bitching about work, etc., so whatever. I’m just glad it’s over. Never enough time, never enough energy. Whatever. If you’ve emailed me this week, I apologize for not getting back. I’ll be catching up this weekend.

This coming week, reviews of Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, Kadavar and Serpent Throne. Yeah that’s right, I’m breaking out the big guns. Also, on Monday, a full-album stream from Devil to Pay and, on Wednesday, one from Small Stone newcomers Isaak, formerly known as Gandhi’s Gunn. Also, so help me Robot Jeebus, I’ll get that Pombagira interview posted. I don’t care how long the transcription takes, it’s fucking time so there you go. Stay tuned for all that and much more.

Alright now, back to Monty Python. Have a great and safe weekend. See you on the forum and back here Monday for that Devil to Pay stream and other good time whathaveyou.

The rightful position when it comes to a disc like Jimi Hendrix‘s People, Hell and Angels (they used to call them “catalog releases,” but there’s probably a new word for it now because I’m old and there’s a new word for everything) is almost invariably one of disdain. As much albums as this, or Sony Legacy/Experience Hendrix‘s previous mining operation, 2010’s Valleys of Neptune, are so often predicated on the idea of “new material,” and so often that’s a load of bunk, the cynicism on the part of a certain segment of the fanbase is invariable. The Jimi Hendrix Experience put out three records. Since Hendrix‘s death in Sept. 1970, more than 40 studio, live and compilation albums have appeared, and that’s not counting bootlegs, official and otherwise. It’s easy to see a release like People, Hell and Angels as part of an ongoing effort to take advantage of fan loyalty and squeeze people for their hard-earned cash by recycling the same old “previously unreleased” songs and jams.

I’m not going to argue with that position. At all. I get it completely and I won’t even say I disagree. Nonetheless, let me offer an opposing view just for fun: People, Hell and Angels presents very, very little that hasn’t been heard before, either in the form of these exact recordings or others like them, but as a fan and as someone passionate about Hendrix‘s work, doesn’t a new collection present an exciting opportunity to explore the material, even if it’s been heard before? This could be a new mix, or a new master, or hell, even a new track order makes a difference in the listening experience, so while “Hear My Train a Comin'” is so very, very familiar, can’t a fan also just enjoy the way it leads into the funky jam “Baby Let Me Move You?,” fronted by Lonnie Youngblood, with whom Hendrix had worked prior to getting big with the Experience? If we take away the idea of “previously unreleased,” couldn’t it possibly be okay to dig on People, Hell and Angels for being a shiny new Hendrix collection?

And I do mean “shiny.” Literally, the digipak reflects light. Metallic ink or foil paper may not be any newer than these recordings, but between that and the 24-page booklet packed with recording information and photos for each and every track, no one can say that effort wasn’t put into the package and the design. And while I’m on board with bootleg purists in eschewing overly clean remastered releases, listening to “Earth Blues” open People, Hell and Angels or the later cool jam “Hey Gypsy Boy” — recorded March 18, 1969, according to the liner — these songs do sound damn good. The thing of it is, there comes a point where the righteous anger of the superfan has to meet with the realization that not everyone in the world has the time, the interest or the passion to dedicate themselves to the project of hunting down and memorizing the entire recorded output of an artist. I’d love to be able to afford to chase down every Hendrix bootleg ever pressed, but I can’t do that or my wife will leave me. She’s all but said so.

So while we all know the implication of “newly unearthed recordings” or the image of some hapless studio employee finding this stuff in a basement and dusting it off to read the label and see “Jimi H. session, 6/11/68″  on there isn’t how it happened, I’ll take the rehashed blues jam of unfinished closer “Villanova Junction,” a different version of which was included in 1996’s Burning Desire for what it is. Tell me, even if you’re a diehard Hendrix fan, is there something you’d rather be hearing? I don’t think Sony Legacy is sitting on a pile of unreleased finished, mastered, never-heard songs going, “No, these are mine! Give them the same shit over again!” Pretty sure if they could sell that stuff, they’d do it, and even if it’s one or two songs on here that’s never seen light in this form, how much more can you really expect after 43 years of posthumous albums? If releases like this are for super-nerds and those who don’t know any better, I guess what I’m having a hard time with is seeing the problem in that if they enjoy listening to it.

And hell, if there’s some kid out there who picks up People, Hell and Angels as the first Hendrix album they own, can’t we just be glad that someone under the age of 25 knows who Jimi Hendrix is and assume that kid will use the internet research skills seemingly endemic to their generation to figure out that he or she probably should’ve started with Are You Experienced instead? Yeah, I know People, Hell and Angels has its downsides. It’s not short on them, but really, I’ve enjoyed listening to it so much while I sat here to write this and I’ve had so much fun reading about each of the songs in the liner notes, that I guess I’m limited in how much I can really tear it apart in a review. If that makes me a sucker, then I’m a sucker. We all are, to one extent or another. If you need me, I’ll be the sucker fuzz-rocking “Crash Landing” on repeat while he compiles a list of bootlegs to chase down.

Credit where it’s due, Antiquiet put together a great piece last year on where this material has been heard before. Commendable effort and excellent for the curious.