My introduction to Black Sabbath came in late 1985, when a friend made me a 90 minute tape that had the classic 1981 Ozzy Osbourne bootleg Bats Head Soup on one side (my intro to the greatness of Randy Rhoads), and on the other, Sabbath's seminal album Paranoid. Of course, being the enthusiastic young metal dude I was, I dug it all enormously, especially "Iron Man", "Paranoid", and "War Pigs", which really blew me away. I didn't get the whole hippy-dippy vibe of "Planet Caravan", but overall, the album was indeed killer: those deceptively simple riffs...those nimble basslines...the maniacal, primal drumming, those deliriously shrill vocals. Not long after that, I borrowed (and later bought) a cassette of Ozzy's 1982 solo live album Speak of the Devil, his sloppily-recorded response to Sabbath's Live Evil (with Ronnie James Dio at the helm) from the same year. Despite the horribly obvious vocal overdubs, it was (and still is) a half-decent live album, with good performances by his ace band. Most importantly, it served as the gateway to the rest of the Sabbath back catalogue, turning me on to such songs as "Symptom of the Universe", "N.I.B.", "Snowblind", "Sweet Leaf", and "Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath". Over the next couple years, as I became completely immersed in bands such as Metallica, Iron Maiden, Megadeth, and Queensryche (among many others), I borrowed more Sabbath tapes from friends. By then, I tended to be more finicky with the more obscure album tracks, maintaining a polite respect for Sabbath, but justifiably, more interested in the exciting new metal that was coming out at the time.

It didn't help that the second version of the Rolling Stone Album Guide came out in 1992. Despite being a valuable resource, enabling me to learn rock history, its album ratings were so curmudgeonly, so off-base, so anti-metal, that it actually made me question the relevance of the metal greats, including Sabbath. It wasn't until later that decade that my interest in the band would increase a hundredfold, and the fun 1998 Reunion live album, with Ozzy back in tow reminded me what I'd been missing for the previous five years. The problem was, the old Sabbath back catalog had notoriously bad sound. You knew that someday remastered versions of the classic albums would come out, much like the great Led Zeppelin box remasters in 1990, so I bided my time, downloading mp3's, trading in crummy CDs for a stellar used copy of the great Castle compilation The Best of Black Sabbath (which I've always thought was a better collection than the recent Symptom of the Universe compilation). Then, in August of 2003, I read the news I'd been craving for years: the first eight Black Sabbath albums were to be released in a gargantuan box set, complete with fully remastered sound. At last! Just in time for Christmas, too. Sadly, the release date was pushed further and further back, until it finally came out early this year. After an agonizing wait, I finally got The Black Box for my birthday, and now, three weeks later, now's as good a time as any to take an in-depth look at the set, and the albums therein.

Listen to the newly-remastered debut album, and you'll realize two things: one, its influence on the entire metal genre is immeasurable; without this very album, heavy metal would simply cease to be. Secondly, this is one of the most stunning improvements in sound quality that's ever been done...after thirty some-odd years of that muddy sound, the new version, remastered from the original tapes, is like a wallop to the face. Simpler than Led Zeppelin, louder than Cream, less nuanced than Deep Purple, and so dark and dank, that it still retains its sheer power today, this is the single most important album in metal history. Every single metal band that's ever been is deeply indebted to this record. It's all there in the opening track, "Black Sabbath": the sound of pouring rain, a bell's toll, thunderclaps, and blammo, a simple, three-note riff by Tony Iommi, on that tuned-down Gibson SG, his prosthetic fingertips muscularly bending the strings, as Geezer Butler repeats the riff with minimal enhancements, and Bill Ward crashing down on his cymbals. Then one John Michael Osbourne enters, and drones ominously, "What is this that stands before me?/Figure in black that points at me/Turn round quick and start to run/Find out I'm the chosen one...OH NOOOOOOOO!" The song, the first track on the first album, perfectly encapsulates every aspect of the Black Sabbath sound, and its power is absolutely devastating, as the song reaches its coda, where Iommi takes the song on a throttling gallop, getting more and more ferocious as it nears its cacophonous conclusion. Elsewhere, there's the underrated "Wicked World" (which I've always loved) and the superb covers of "The Wizard" (dig that harp!) and "Evil Woman, but the real fun is in the form of two extended suites, presented as single tracks for the first time ever on CD. The four song combo of "Wasp/Behind the Wall of Sleep/Bassically/N.I.B." is a total groovefest, highlighted by "Sleep"'s laid back, swinging bassline and minimal lead fills, and the flat-out classic riff of "N.I.B." The fourteen minute "A Bit of Finger/Sleeping Village/Warning" features a brief verse sung by Ozzy (with mouth harp continuing the strong blues/folk influence), before taking off into an extended jam, featuring another cover, this time of "Warning", previously recorded by early Journey and journeyman drummer Ansley Dunbar. The remastering, again, is astonishing. I was never a huge fan of this album in the past, because its muddy sound came off as so primitive, but this new version is so great, it's as if my eyes have been opened for the first time. Finally, the debut album sounds like it was always mean to be. Indispensable and incomparable.

After that, the ubiquitous classic, Paranoid. There's no denying it, this album is perfect in every way. But, might I add, it remains the one classic rock album with the single worst album cover, ever. What were they thinking? But I digress. The production is marginally slicker on this record, Iommi's guitar work tighter, Ward's drumming harnessed considerably. Yeah, you've got the timeless trifecta of "War Pigs", "Paranoid", and "Iron Man", but look beyond those, and the rest of the album holds up brilliantly, especially on what constituted Side Two. "Electric Funeral" is the prototypical stoner rock song (yeah, before "Sweet Leaf"), with that wah-wah enhanced riff, the plodding dinosaur's pace, and the subsequent funky groove of the coda. "Hand of Doom" remains one of the greatest Sabbath songs nobody talks about...the riff, driven by Geezer this time around, is delicious, as is the incredible irony of the lyrics. How strangely prophetic that the band would sing a song about the dangers of drug abuse, and then go on to re-write the book on drug abuse for the next ten years? The song remains one of the more progressive Sabbath tracks, with its deft tempo changes that would foreshadow the likes of rainbow, Judas Priest, and Scorpions five years later. The band would go on to tack on instrumentals on their albums, some good, some insufferably noodly, but "Rat Salad" is one of the better ones, a nifty little jam that paves the way for the great "Fairies Wear Boots", which concludes the album. It's always tempting to gloss over Paranoid because so many people cite it as their favourite Sabbath album, but the fact is, it's too flawless to ignore. It could very well be their finest moment on record.

Released in July 1971, a mere six months after Paranoid, Master of Reality proved to be every bit as good. In fact, for years it was my favourite Sabbath album...and for good reason. The timeless "Sweet Leaf", with its not-so-subtle lyrical content, the lumbering "Into the Void", and one of my all-time fave songs, "Children of the Grave", which practically explodes out of the gate with that galloping riff (which Iron Maiden would employ to great effect a decade later), propelled by Ward's phenomenal drumming, and enhanced, importantly, I might add, with ferocious tom-tom triplets that make it sound even faster than it actually is. The upbeat "After Forever" contains some of Geezer Butler's best lyrics ("Is God just a thought within your head or is he a part of you?"), while "Lord of This World" continues in the classic Sabbath mold: massive and beastly. "Solitude" is the most interesting departure, a soft, tender ballad that has the band going a step further than the previous record's "Planet Caravan", and would go even more over the top on the next release. Again, you cannot go wrong with any song on Master of Reality, it's a snapshot of Sabbath plowing along, full steam ahead.

Many people view Volume 4 as a flawed piece of work, but I think it's always great fun to listen to. There's no secret the album was fueled by cocaine, and the overall feeling on this album is one of careening energy and crashing comedowns. It's an insane ride, but an enthralling one. Of course, the album is defined by its sensational centrepiece of "Supernaut" (arguably the heaviest riff Iommi has ever composed) and the drug anthem to end all drug anthems, "Snowblind", but the rest of the record is surprisingly diverse. "Wheels of Confusion" is a jaw-dropper of an eight-minute track, displaying the band's forceful presence. "Tomorrow's Dream" is a great head-bobber of a tune, its high-end production a perfect example of the money the band had available to put together a slicker record, while "Cornucopia" is a great piece of prog-style rock. Meanwhile, "St. Vitus' Dance" has a strange, yet compelling folk rock feel that perhaps reflects the West Coast influence at the time (the album was recorded in Los Angeles), and "Under the Sun" closes the album in very strong fashion. While "Laguna Sunrise" is a decent enough instrumental, the same can't be said of "FX", an obviously drug-fueled exercise in electronic self-indulgence; it's the only throwaway on an otherwise great disc. People may be divided about the syrupy piano ballad "Changes", especially after Ozzy and his daughter Kelly massacred the song a year ago, but despite the fact that it was a blatant attempt at mainstream airplay, and that it's so hackneyed and sentimental, I still love the song. I think it has one of Ozzy's greatest ever performances...the way he sings those extremely goofy lines ("I feel unhappy/I feel so sad/I lost the best friend/That I ever had"), he sells them perfectly, and it's impossible not to give in. The man would go on to repeat this formula during his solo years, but none of his ballads can ever top this one. "Changes" is a gaudy piece of costume jewelry amidst a collection of gems, but taken as a whole, Volume 4 benefits from its presence, a little perspective amidst the nose candy.

1973's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is the band's one big attempt at a hard rock masterpiece, from songwriting, to production, even to the artwork, which finally fits well with the music inside. And, yeah, they pull it off. There are times when I feel that this album is their greatest achievement, even better than their first three albums. After all, this had the band putting it all together the most impeccably. It's almost pristine, as you hear the band roar into the title track, which has to be the definitive Sabbath tune, with Ozzy in great form, Ward at his most powerful, and Iommi contributing his greatest riff ever. It's just immaculate, not to mention highly focused, all the way through, as the sludge of the early material is gone, as is the self-indulgence of Volume 4. Track after track has the band in peak form: "A National Acrobat" has the band adding subtle touches to its trademark heavy sound, the lively "Sabbra Cadabra" is bolstered by a synth solo by Yes's Rick Wakeman, and "Killing Yourself to Live" dares to incorporate more of a mainstream sound without compromising the band's formula. "Who Are You" is very synth heavy, too much so for some, but it works well enough, adding a little variety to a song that perhaps would have sounded bland with just a guitar doing the same old thing. "Looking For Today" has the same light, airy feel of "St. Vitus' Dance", but feels much less forced, the band sounding comfortable incorporating a pop feel. The great "Spiral Architect" closes the album in stunning fashion, its combination of electric and acoustic guitars echoing The Who; big, bombastic, and grandiose, it's a fitting end to Sabbath's most daring album of the 1970s.

It's easy to focus only on Sabbath's first five albums, especially when you consider how much turmoil the band was going through: drug addiction, mismanagement, heart attacks, and on and on. However, the band had one more great record in them, that being 1975's Sabotage. How messed up was this band? Look at what they're wearing on the cover! Sober men would not dress like that. Seriously, Bill, what were you thinking with the red tights? But when you get to the music, this album is absolutely ferocious, something driven into your head on "Hole in the Sky", which then cuts abruptly into the classical guitar interlude of "Don't Start (Too Late)", which then leads into the skull-crushing "Symptom of the Universe", highlighted by Ward's ungodly drumming. His fills on that track have been compared to falling down a flight of stairs, and I can think of no better way of describing the sound. The adventurous epic "Megalomania", with its organ and piano, is a fitting, more detailed sequel to "Paranoid", while "The Thrill of it All" and "Am I Going Insane (Radio)", while not spectacular, keep the momentum going. A good thing, because man, does this record ever end on a strong note, that being the baroque Sabbath classic "The Writ", Ozzy's venomous retort to the band's former managers who were continually siccing the lawyers on the members. It's the single most passionate Sabbath track...just listen to Ozzy howl the lines, "What kind of people do you think we are? Another joker who's a rock and roll star for you...Just for you!" The song sums up the album perfectly, a massive howl in anger by a band who was at the end of their rope. Sabbath would not come close to equaling Sabotage until five years later, with Ozzy long gone, and Ronnie James Dio injecting new life into the band. When naming Black Sabbath's classic albums, to gloss over Sabotage is criminal.

The band's two subsequent albums are decidedly lacklustre, but they still have their moments, and don’t deserve to be completely ignored. 1976's Technical Ecstasy is a blatant attempt at watering down their classic sound, and the band comes off as surprisingly bland at times. Songs like "Back Street Kids" and "Rock 'n' Roll Doctor" are cheeseball arena rock and nothing more, disturbingly so, even, but amidst the dreck are little nuggets like the defiant "You Won't Change Me" and Bill Ward's oddly endearing "It's Alright". The one great track on the record is the sleazy "Dirty Women", the only track to echo the ambition of the previous two albums. On the other hand, 1978's Never Say Die is even less consistent. Easily the nadir of Sabbath's Ozzy years, it was one last, tired attempt to recapture past glory, but the results were disastrous, as Sabbath came off as has-beens. Actually, the title track is a very promising start, but the resolve the band seems to have in that song withers as the album wears on. Granted, "Junior's Eyes" is a touching tribute to Ozzy's late father, "Hard Road" is a fitting description of how far the band had come, and even "Air Dance", with Don Airey's keyboards, is rather compelling, but the rest sounds so lifeless and devoid of ideas, as riffs are swiped from Alice Cooper and Kiss, and the inclusion of a horn section on "Breakout" sounds desperate. It's an exhausting, exhausted-sounding record, and you can clearly see that both the band and Ozzy would be better off going their separate ways, and two years later, both would go on to record two all-time classic metal albums in the form of Heaven and Hell and Blizzard of Ozz.

The packaging on The Black Box is gorgeous. It comes with a big slipcase featuring cool, embossed, black-on-black lettering, and inside are two smaller slipcases that contain all the albums, which are presented in digipak format (which I always like), reproducing the original LP artwork. There's also a very snazzy hardcover book covered in black velvet, which contains a couple of very well-written essays, tons of photos, and a bunch of silly, cliché-ridden quotes by contemporary artists. Best of all are the complete lyrics for all eight albums, and as a bonus, there's a special DVD that features four television performances of "Black Sabbath", "Paranoid", "Iron Man", and a clunky cover of "Blue Suede Shoes". The DVD is a bit on the skimpy side, but fun nonetheless. You know, say what you will about Sharon Osbourne and her past crimes (her supervising of the re-recording of Ozzy's first two albums is unforgivable), as executive producer of this project, she has made sure fans have gotten their money's worth, and simply put, this is the finest CD box set I have ever seen. Sound quality is exceptional, the packaging is lavish. This lovingly-assembled set is essential for anyone remotely interested in Black Sabbath...it's everything I dreamed it would be, and then some, containing some of the greatest music of the 20th century, evoking fond memories and proving revelatory at the same time. Sure, the band faltered a bit on their sixth and seventh albums, but with music this great, it's easy to take a couple of mild duds among with the classics. Heavy metal music does not get any better than this. Astonishing. Groundbreaking. Exhilirating.

Friday, November 19, 2004