It was a glowing hot summer day in London in August 2022 when I personally met Ozzy Osbourne for the last time – in a classy hotel near Hyde Park. I took a seat, but the Prince of Darkness had to lie down-he was exhausted from his triumphant comeback appearance the evening before in his hometown Birmingham, where he had performed “Iron Man” and “Paranoid” together with Black-Sabbath colleague Tony Iommi. He made the decision to go back on stage after a four -year break – despite health problems. But his mood was good.
“Is it hot here, or I’m … damn it,” he gasped. “The air conditioning has probably not yet made it to England.” Nevertheless – there he was, glittering with sweat, unmistakably ozzy, despite pain and heat. He wanted to talk about how he felt by the performance, about his recent near-death experiences (he stretched out his hands and showed me how his Parkinson’s medication kept him stable), and that even he could not believe that he was still alive. He had grew up in poverty – now he could afford to sleep in the same hotel as Winston Churchill once.
Four hours full of stories and humor
We spoke almost four hours that day. Ozzy Osbourne patiently answered every question – from mine Rolling-Stone-Ditors as well as my very personal to his legendary career. I have been fan since I was twelve-when I bought a double cassette album from “Live & Loud”, enthusiastic about the videos for “Mr. Tinkertrain” and “Road to Nowhere” on MTV.
“I think you don’t write an article,” he teased after three and a half hours, “you write a damn encyclopedia.” We both laughed. It was not the first time that he said that in an interview with me.
Ozzy Osbourne and I – from 2005 to the last interview
In the past 15 years I took every opportunity to interview Ozzy – because he was my favorite artist and because conversations with him were simply fun. I have led around 20 interviews with him: about new music, his travel TV series with son Jack, the birth of the metal-and I wrote the linner notes to “Paranoid” (box set) and the concert film “The End”. Our relationship felt special over time. I think that was based on mutuality – because Ozzy ended every conversation: “If you still need something, just call in the office.” Something that hardly offers a superstar.
“I am a real person who makes music”
Today, when processing the message from his death, I not only think of Ozzy Osbourne’s influence on music and pop culture – but also of its enormous importance in my life. I remember how I heard “Live & Loud” with a friend in the car, he “paranoid” – and our mothers explained to us that it was the same singer. I remember the “Retirement Sucks” concert in Denver, Ozzfest 1997 (with Sabbath, Pantera, Type o Negative, Fear Factory, Machine Head, Neurosis). I saw Ozzy – solo or with Sabbath – at least 25 times live. I remember every single concert when I think long enough.
From shock rocker to the model
As a teenager, I was fascinated by the danger of his music – how he laughed in the face of darkness. But the more I read, the more I admired him as an ingenious, innovative musician and as a person who spoke openly about his fights with alcohol and wanted to improve. Despite all the scandals – bat, Alamo, drugs – he was a role model for me. He often fell, but got up again and again.
From Tower Records to the office at Sony
I met Ozzy for the first time in 2005 at a Meet & Greet. I told him his music changed my life. He replied dryly: “Mine too.” This sentence was a gift and reminded me that he was famous for his music, but became a legend because he was open.
My first interview as a professional took place in 2010 in the Sony office in New York. I was nervous, but Ozzy took everything away – talked about the album Scream, about Randy Rhoads and made jokes that I only understood on the recording band when I was hearing. That taught me: listening well and being open to ozzy’s dry, deep humor.
Late years, illness, strength
I learned: You have to ask Ozzy clearly and directly and just let him talk. His answers always surprised me. Sometimes he explained why Sabbath was not a metal (because of bands like Poison), sometimes he spoke openly about the failure of his body-his Parkinson’s diagnosis, falls, infections. But there was hope in his voice. He was awake, talked about his albums Ordinary Man and Patient Number 9, about photo shoots, new songs with Billy Morrison. And he was still wearing the Lemmy kilmister poker chip in his pocket to remember his late friend.
“I never think I win”, but he did it
In 2022 he was electrified after a single song with Iommi – over 50 years after Black Sabbath was founded. “I never think I win,” he told me. But that evening he was a winner. This humility was his secret. He told me how he behaved like an idiot at Eric Clapton and how honored he was that Clapton still played on his album. This modesty made him so popular. As a musician and as a reality TV father.
One last concert with the family
A few weeks ago I saw “Back to the Beginning”, the livestream of his last concert. I couldn’t travel to Birmingham – my daughter was just born. But we saw it together, their first “concert”. Ozzy on the throne, frail but strong. “Mama, I’m coming home” in a brittle voice. It was touching. I saw it again and again – at nightly bottles – and knew that this farewell meant everything.
“You say you should never meet your heroes”, but Ozzy never disappointed
In the industry it says: “Never meet your heroes – they disappoint you.” But Ozzy never disappointed. He always strived to be better. He was unmistakably Ozzy. “My life was just incredible,” he told me once. “You couldn’t write my story; you couldn’t invent me.” He was right. I am just grateful that he shared his story with me.