Admittedly, it’s a cruel, heartless question to ask, and yet, can there be any doubt as to the answer? Could anything ever top Master of Reality? I ask the question mostly because I want to see if anyone sticks up for Vol. 4, which, apart from “Changes,” is about as flawless as an album can get. With the recent terrible news of Tony Iommi‘s lymphoma diagnosis, I think we’re due for a good time. So let’s have some fun.

Earliest Black Sabbath was nothing if not a coalescing of various elements into a cohesive whole. A kind of cultural distillation, ground down and remade into the singular most formative basis of doom — the album Black Sabbath. Only months later in 1970, they released Paranoid and refined the darkness of the first record, adding range and sonic breadth. While the title-track became the band’s signature piece, “Electric Funeral” and “Fairies Wear Boots” grew into the anthems of a subculture within a subculture, and they remain so to this day.

However, every time I put on Master of Reality and listen to it straight through, with each successive track, I say to myself, “This is the heaviest shit ever made.” And each song proves the prior assessment wrong — yes, even “Solitude” — until finally, “Into the Void” offers clear and indisputable truth of riff. It is pure in its muck, and as perfect as stoner rock has ever gotten. The standard by which the genre is and should be measured: the heaviest shit ever made.

But what about Vol. 4? It seems to have an answer for every challenge Master of Reality throws at it. A “Snowblind” for “Sweet Leaf,” “Supernaut” for “Into the Void,” “Under the Sun/Every Day Comes and Goes” for “Lord of this World.” 1972 found Black Sabbath a more realized beast with a perfected heavy rock that seemed to already know the tropes of the metal genre it was shaping.

I could go on. I won’t. Is “Changes” enough to hold back Vol. 4 from standing up to Master of Reality? There are people who consider “Solitude” a misstep of similar magnitude. I leave it to you to decide in the comments.

You know the scenario. You can only pick one, so which is it?

Stole this news right from Blabbermouth, and I expect I’m not the only person to do so this afternoon. Wishes for a complete recovery go without saying, and I know that headbangers, riffers and all the other miscreants around the world who’ve been touched by Tony Iommi and Black Sabbath‘s work over the years have the man in their thoughts today.

Legendary Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi has been diagnosed with the early stages of lymphoma, a cancer of the lymphocytes, a type of cell that forms part of the immune system.

Iommi, 63, is currently working with his doctors to establish the best treatment plan and remains upbeat and determined to make a full and successful recovery.

This comes as Black Sabbath — Ozzy Osbourne (vocals), Tony Iommi (guitar), Geezer Butler (bass) and Bill Ward (drums) — are writing and recording their first album in 33 years in Los Angeles (still set for release this fall) with producer Rick Rubin. They will now go to the UK to continue to work with Tony.

Mike H. posted the link on the forum to a Billboard article of the announcement. I guess I should be excited about this, since it’s Sabbath, but really, does a Rick Rubin-produced new Black Sabbath record with Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Bill Ward sound like a good idea? I was kind of hopeful for an Iommi collaboration with Ian Gillan after the Whocares single was released earlier this year, but Ozzy-fronted Sabbath? As much as I hate to say it, I’m skeptical.

That said, any excuse to see Geezer Butler play bass is good enough for me…

Here’s the news, pilfered from the above-mentioned industry trade:

Black Sabbath is reuniting to record its first studio album with original frontman Ozzy Osbourne since 1978, and will support it with a massive 2012 tour, sources have confirmed to Billboard.com.

The group made the announcement during a press conference today (Nov. 11) at the Whiskey A-Go-Go in Los Angeles, where Sabbath played its first show in the city exactly 41 years ago. Black Sabbath will headline Download Festival, which will take place between June 8-10 in Donington Park, England. Meanwhile, Rick Rubin will produce the group’s comeback album, which is expected to be released in fall 2012 through Vertigo/Universal.

Rumors of new Sabbath activity have been swirling for months, with Osbourne recently telling Billboard.com that new material was “a very, very strong possibility. It’s in the very early stages, so we haven’t recorded anything yet.”

Guitarist Tony Iommi, who wrote extensively about the band in his new book Iron Man: My Journey Through Heaven & Hell With Black Sabbath, also told Billboard.com that he regrouped with Osbourne, bassist Geezer Butler and drummer Bill Ward at Osbourne‘s California home earlier this year to play some music, “For a bit of fun, and to see if we could all play. It was good, but it was just purely, ‘Let’s have a go and see what happens.’”

Last night, The Patient Mrs. and I went to see the new documentary God Bless Ozzy Osbourne at its New Jersey “special premiere event.” I had posted the press release on the news forum last week, but the short version is the movie was produced by Jack Osbourne, directed by Mike Fleiss and Mike Piscitelli, and promised “the most honest portrait” of his father (Ozzy, duh) through his years with Black Sabbath and as a mind-blowingly successful solo artist.

Now obviously, to tell the whole story would require a 17-hour Ken Burns special and then some — as Ozzy has simply led that much life — but though God Bless Ozzy Osbourne started out promising by charting his childhood and Black Sabbath‘s formation and first several records, the movie soon took a turn and abandoned that method of storytelling, jumping directly from a scene of current Ozzy watching and being disgusted by the video for “The Ultimate Sin” to the first season of the MTV reality show The Osbournes, which came some 16 years later, and shifting the focus from his sundry triumphs and inebriated antics to his getting clean and, as Sharon Osbourne put it in one of her many dime-store-therapist-lingo interview segments, “growing up.”

That’s fine. I went into God Bless Ozzy Osbourne thinking it was probably going to be a one-sided take on the man’s life, perhaps some effort to restore the dignity that the last decade has stripped him of (The Osbournes playing no small part in that, but by no means being the only misstep), and that’s precisely what it was. The fact is that he’s an entertaining interview — I’ve never been so fortunate myself — and that alone is worth watching. Tony Iommi appeared three or four times, and since the movie-current live footage sprinkled throughout had Zakk Wylde on guitar, I’m guessing it was from 2008-2009, right around the time Iommi and Osbourne were embroiled in that lawsuit over the rights to the name Black Sabbath. I guess they were lucky to get him at all, if that’s the case.

But even so, the “most honest portrait” it wasn’t. Scenes of Ozzy‘s kids from his first and second marriage saying he was a shitty father popped up and were gone with little examination or criticism, flashing back and forth to a current interview thread of Ozzy talking about it, and he still couldn’t remember what year his first daughter was born. In addition, in talking about his relationship with Sharon, they laid out the timing that it began roughly two years before he divorced his first wife, but never mentioned it as an affair, the two of them laughing instead that they were either in bed, on the bus, or on stage at that point in their lives. Har har. And when talking about their marriage, Ozzy says he wanted to start a family and that’s why he married Sharon, completely neglecting to mention his two prior children, who just a few minutes ago, were remembered as begging him not to leave them.

So really, it’s got its issues. Leaving the theater, I couldn’t help but wonder about the footage they left out. They didn’t even interview Zakk Wylde! Robert Trujillo, who played bass with Ozzy‘s band for a while, is never mentioned as having done so, instead showing up as a representative of Metallica — which is laughable — and since you apparently can’t say anything about Black Sabbath these days without Henry Rollins showing up, he was there. Tommy Lee told a few choice stories of touring with Ozzy in 1985, and Rudy Sarzo gave a heartfelt reminisce of the day Randy Rhoads died, but there was a lot they left out, both positive and negative. Here are the five things that most stuck out to me:

1. Master of Reality
After recounting the first two Sabbath albums, they mentioned 1971′s Master of Reality, showed the cover, and then brushed it aside to talk about Vol. 4. Not for nothing, but Master of Reality has been scientifically proven to be the greatest album of all time. They’ve done tests. In labs. Nothing is better. I suppose I shouldn’t complain, because Technical Ecstasy didn’t get mentioned at all. Seriously. Like it didn’t exist. No love for “Rock & Roll Doctor.”

2. Ozzfest
This was a real surprise, especially with the time spent giving the highlights of Ozzy‘s career. The festival of which he was the namesake? Nothing about it ever appeared in the movie.

3. Jake E. Lee
Nope. The guy basically saved Ozzy‘s post-Randy Rhoads career. And nothing.

4. The second, third and fourth seasons of The Osbournes
You’d imagine in watching God Bless Ozzy Osbourne that someone tricked the family into filming their lives for MTV. I think it’s Kelly at one point (might be Jack) who says something about people thinking it was funny, but it was really watching their family fall apart because of her father’s drinking and drug use. Meanwhile, they raked in shitloads of cash on that and kept it going for three years! If it’s that awful, even if you’re contractually obligated, pull out and take the lawsuit. Aimee Osbourne continues to look like a young woman who has her shit together.

5. Any music after 1986.
No No More Tears, no Ozzmosis. In the live footage, Ozzy sings some of “No More Tears,” but no studio album after Bark at the Moon is discussed in detail, and neither is the reunion with Black Sabbath in 1997, the retirement tour, or even the names of the people in the current (as of the movie) band. Mike Bordin is shown playing drums a few times, and Wylde makes regular appearances on stage, but it looks like the camera is actively trying to avoid Rob “Blasko” Nicholson.

I’m glad Ozzy Osbourne is sober. In God Bless Ozzy Osbourne, toward the end of the film, he is shown driving, talking about getting his driver’s license and wanting to have his shit together, feeling like he loves himself for the first time in his life. He speaks clearly and stands up straight and looks nothing like the bumbling man in the garden yelling, “Sharon!” This is all wonderful. I mean it. I also think that part of having that ability to truly be comfortable with who you are means accepting your failures as well as your successes. You could easily say he didn’t make the film, and he didn’t — Sharon is listed as executive producer and Jack is given the aforementioned producer credit — but there’s no question it’s a favorable take rather than a genuine examination of his career and life.

It’s one side of a story to which there are probably 50 other sides, and I’m sure you could make a 90-minute documentary about the first Sabbath album and it would seem too short, but if the project is too much to chew, then what’s accomplished by putting it out there anyway is a few entertaining stories, choice interviews, some live footage (the 1974 California Jam is always welcome), and nothing approaching the raw analysis promised. So it was.

I alluded to it the other day in the third SHoD post, but wanted to save the details for this. To briefly recap: I got to Krug’s early Sunday for the third day of Stoner Hands of Doom XI in Frederick, Maryland, and having an hour to kill, decided to go record shopping. Not the first time in my life I’ve made that decision.

Using my magic cellophone, I got directions to CD/Game Exchange on N. Market St., and while on my way there, passed a sign on E. Patrick with Rock & Roll Graveyard printed on it. With hopes that it wasn’t some shitty irono-fashion boutique with $50 torn up Iron Maiden t-shirts on sale for dumb hipster girls who’ve never heard Killers, I nonetheless parked my car and decided to investigate.

A fucking treasure trove, this place was. If I bought vinyl — which I don’t — I wouldn’t have gotten out of there without putting down at least $100, but as it was, I spent only one-tenth of that (or $10) and still got a host of goodies for the effort. From a brief perusal of the CD bin, it was apparent that the owner, whose name is Chris Wolfe, knows his heavy. There was a lot I already had, but I did manage to find the SPV digipak reissue of the self-titled album from Uriah Heep offshoot Weed. It’s another one of those lost heavy ’70s classics that five people in the world preach like gospel and no one else has ever heard of, but man, it’s a pretty killer record. A bit all over the place, but when it locks in, it locks in hard. Dig it.

So that accounts for $5 of the total $10 I blew. The next $4 went to Black Sabbath tapes. Yes, plural. I spent $4 and got four tapes: Master of Reality, Vol. 4, Sabotage and Heaven and Hell. At a buck each, I couldn’t really ask for more. The only one I haven’t played is Vol. 4, because it would require clever fast-forwarding to get past “Changes,” but it was awesome to hear the little differences in the sound on Master of Reality, or the live version of “Sweet Leaf” tacked onto Sabotage — and Heaven and Hell, well, I’ll pretty much take that record on any format I can get it. An all-time favorite for one measly dollar, no way I was leaving that.

Wolfe, who also plays bass in Fat Chick Meat Haul, is a genuine record hoarder and has had the store open for about three months. Most everything he was selling came from his personal collection, and that included the tapes and the lime green 8-track edition of Jethro Tull‘s Aqualung that accounts for the last of the $10 I spent at Rock & Roll Graveyard. Yeah, the tape’s ripped, but what the hell do I care? Jeebus save me, it’s Aqualung on 8-track! I don’t have a player anyway — for a buck, I’m happy just to look at the damn thing and sing “Wind-Up” to myself.

The best part? Well, all this stuff was pretty great, especially for the price, but the best part came in talking to Wolfe about old records and heavy rock and whatever else. He told me about an album from a band called Tin House he’d picked up not too long ago, and when I said it sounded cool (because it did), he went ahead and burned me a copy, right there on the spot, free of charge. And he was right, it’s rightout proto-proggy heavy blues, from the Beatles “oooh-la-la-la” on “30 Weight Blues” to the driving lead of “Silver Star” and the string arrangements on “Lady of the Silent Opera.” I think I might dig it more even than the Weed record.

I don’t know when I’ll be back in Frederick again, but whenever it is, you can bet your ass I’ll be checking in on Rock & Roll Graveyard. Until then, I’ve got the Sabbath tapes in my car, the Tull on my office shelf, and the Weed ready to go. I never made it to CD/Game Exchange, but finding a shop of the niche caliber I did, I’m hardly crying over it.

Find Rock & Roll Graveyard on Thee Facebooks here.

One of the things I like best about Whocares is the fact that you can almost imagine the conversation where the formidable personnel involved were sitting around in the studio, deciding what to name the project, and someone finally said, “Who the hell cares what we call it?” and it stuck. It’s a valid point, since no matter what name they gave it, it’s the names Tony Iommi and Ian Gillan that were going to draw eyes to the debut Whocares charity CD single (when was the last time you saw one of those? In a full jewel case, no less!), Out of My Mind/Holy Water (Armoury). The band, centered around the Black Sabbath guitarist and Deep Purple vocalist, was put together to benefit an Armenian music school. The story goes that Gillan — whose history in Armenia going back more than 20 years to the aftermath of the 1988 earthquake there is chronicled in an included documentary video – and Iommi were in Armenia to receive medals from the prime minister for the work they did and the money they gave helping rebuild after that quake, saw the school, and decided to help out some more. What it rounds out to is the first time Iommi and Gillan have paired on new studio material since Black Sabbath’s underrated 1983 offering, Born Again.

That alone has drawn eyes and hears to Whocares and the Out of My Mind/Holy Water single, but the fact that the guitarist and singer – two figures whose influence over hard rock and metal simply can’t be measured – are joined by the likes of drummer Nicko McBrain of Iron Maiden, former Metallica bassist Jason Newsted and ex-Deep Purple organ master Jon Lord is even more fodder for the salivary glands. The above, as well as guitarist Mikko “Linde” Lindström of HIM (also Iommi’s son in law), comprise the Whocares lineup for “Out of My Mind,” the focus track from the single and the song for which a video was made that’s also included here. On the somewhat less star-studded, “Holy Water,” Iommi and Gillan are joined by guitarists Steve Morse (Deep Purple) and Michael Lee Jackson (a Deep Purple backup and Gillan solo guitarist), bassist Rodney Appleby and Hammond player Jesse O’Brien (both also of Gillan’s band), and drummer Randy Clarke. “Holy Water” also has a duduk contribution from Arshak Sahakyan and a key intro Ara Gevorgyan, for that Armenian flavor. It’s essentially two different bands led by Iommi and Gillan, one mega-supergroup and one regular old supergroup, operating under the same moniker to benefit an Armenian music school. Sure, they probably could have cut a check and been done with it, but one assumes (at least hopes) this was more fun.

Read more »

I’ve been insanely jealous of Bill Ward‘s Never Say Die-era double-braids ever since watching the above video for that title-track from Black Sabbath‘s 1978 Ozzy Osbourne-period cap-off, and finally, after so many beers on last night, The Patient Mrs. saw fit to grace me with the aforementioned braids, and in case you’re wondering: Yes, it’s all I could ever want from a hairstyle.

In honor, we close out this week with Sabbath doing “Never Say Die” from Top of the Pops in ’78. Someone posted the video on Facebook earlier this week too, I think it might have been Joe Hasselvander. And if it wasn’t, I’ll give him credit for it anyway, since  he deserves it. The song was stuck in my head anyhow since reviewing that Karma to Burn album earlier this week. Here’s that review, in case you didn’t see it before.

I actually started this post last night as “Frydee Black Sabbath” but “fell asleep” before finishing it. A four-hour office happy hour led to a trip to the bar led to the hangover I woke up with not so long ago. Nonetheless, tonight in Manhattan, the mighty (and recently interviewed) ORANGE FUCKING GOBLIN are set to lay waste to an unsuspecting Santos Party House, and you can bet your ass I’ll be there early to catch Kings Destroy opening the show. Righteous times shall be had. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the dude with the braids.

Next week we’ll wrap up May with the numbers, and I’ll have a sales update on Blackwolfgoat (thanks to everyone who’s bought so far, and if you haven’t, you can here), a brand new interview with T-Roy Medlin from Sourvein, plus reviews of Lights at Sea, Faces of Bayon and several others, not to mention some live notes from the aforementioned Orange Goblin show tonight, to which I’ve been very much looking forward, if you couldn’t tell. It’s also getting on podcast time, and if I don’t do it this weekend, I might try and make it happen sometime this week, so either way, sooner than later.

Hope everyone has a great weekend. If you’re in the States, happy Memorial Day, and please drive safe. See you back here next week.

The day kind of got away from me yesterday, so I didn’t get to close out the week proper like I wanted to or normally would on a Friday. It’s the end of the semester and work has been balls-kickingly unpleasant the last couple weeks surrounding the Roadburn trip, but that too should be cleared up by the time May hits, so I’m just counting down the days more or less. Until then, my therapy:

THERE IS A NEW PODCAST COMING THIS WEEKEND.

I’ll have it up tomorrow, and no, it’s not Easter themed. I hope to rip some tracks today, some tomorrow and get it all posted by tomorrow night, but yeah, it should be a good one. Kind of a personal theme, but fun all the same, and what the hell is the point anyway if I’m not enjoying myself. You’ll note I didn’t put a question mark at the end of that sentence, because I realize there’s no question there at all.

But I thought we’d close out this week with some under-appreciated Ian Gillan-fronted Black Sabbath from the Born Again album. I saw a post on the forum about the impending re-release (looks sweet), and it kind of put me onto listening to it again. I know it catches hell because of the mix or whatever, but I think this record rules. Wouldn’t trade either Ozzy or Dio Sabbath for it, but it’s a completely unique item in the band’s catalog and certainly better than any of the Tony Martin-era stuff.

Plus, Deep Purple‘s touring (of course with Gillan singing), so it’s semi-relevant on that level as well. They’re bringing an orchestra out with them for the first time in the US this summer. Should be fun. I always thought “Space Truckin’” needed some extra strings.

Enjoy the rest of your Saturday and tomorrow as well. Next week I’ll have my interview with Graveyard posted and reviews of Bong, El Hijo de la Aurora and that podcast too. Much fun to be had.

I “took yesterday off” to get a bunch of work done before flying out to The Netherlands this evening in order to get to Tilburg tomorrow afternoon for the start of Roadburn. As I haven’t traveled in probably five years without bringing some Dio-inclusive album with me, I thought I’d post up “Falling Off the Edge of the World” to mark the occasion. It’s an appropriate enough song for getting on an airplane, I think.

Obviously, lots to come from Roadburn. Over the next few days, I’ll have pictures, video and writeups from the fest, as well as whatever else I can think of about traveling, so please, stay tuned. I’ve basically broken my ass the last few days to get my ducks aligned, so I’m definitely looking forward to getting away for a couple days to get a reminder of why I love all this stuff so much in the first place: the music.

My luggage (aptly named Big Blue, because it is both quite huge and quite blue) is mostly packed, and I’ve got my passport, so all that remains is to get to Newark Airport after class — which I’m about to go to — and catch the flight. It’s raining in Jersey, so pending any delays or shit like that, I should be good to go. Here’s hoping.

If you’ll be at Roadburn, I hope to see you there. If not, and you see this, I hope you enjoy the posts. In any case, here’s to adventure.

Along with their 1974 performance at the California Jam and the glorious 1975 Asbury Park show, Black Sabbath‘s December, 1970, performance in Paris, France is among the group’s most famous bootlegs. Various snippets have made the rounds over the years — mostly video — but the soundboard audio from the show, coupled with the fact that it’s the original lineup in their Paranoid-era, was too good for me to pass up on eBay recently. Maybe it was posting the “N.I.B.” video last week that did it. Maybe it was the wine. Could go either way.

Whatever the case, it was one of those shows I had downloaded forever ago, but definitely of a quality worth owning physically. Even as Ozzy butchers the lyrics to nearly every song — “War Pigs” and “Hand of Doom” are especially brutal — the energy with which he does so practically punches you in the face through the speakers, and Bill Ward holds down “Black Sabbath” like I haven’t heard in any other era of the band. All the material was fresh, immediate, and fortunately, the sound on the War Pigs bootleg is good enough to capture that.

I’m pretty sure it’s a home-print job, inkjet, burner, whatnot, but it’s a silver-backed disc and I paid less than $20 for it, and in this age of sabboots, each of those is rare enough on its own that to have them both at the same time feels like getting away with something. If you’re into Sabbath bootlegs, you probably already have this show one way or another — I’ve never had much interest in collecting bootleg videos, but I know plenty of people who do — but if you don’t, it’s an essential piece to the catalog.

Interestingly (or maybe not), the track list on the back of the CD is wrong, and “Black Sabbath” is not the closer of the show, “Fairies Wear Boots” is. “Black Sabbath” comes after “Iron Man” — written as one word on the CD — though it kicks enough ass it could have just as easily ended the set. “Behind the Wall of Sleep” is another highlight, for Tony Iommi‘s hypnotic solo if not Geezer Butler‘s running bass, which is low on “War Pigs” to the point of needing to be adjusted on the EQ, but well worth the minimal effort of doing so.

There are plenty of other copies out there, and even if it’s a cheap inkjet knockoff that you’re getting, the War Pigs bootleg captures young Sabbath at their most vital and as they never would be again. If you see it, get it.

Geezer Butler‘s got something to say about it. This came in just now on the PR wire:

Responding to ongoing rumors surrounding a possible Black Sabbath reunion, Geezer Butler has issued the following statement:

“I would like to make it clear, because of mounting speculation and rumours, that there will be definitely no reunion of all four original members of Black Sabbath, whether to record an album or to tour.”

So, uh, yeah. Take that. In other Sabbath-related news, Geezer wrote the lyrics, Iommi is god, Bill Ward played better fills than John Bonham and Ozzy has pissed away all his credibility. The end.

Born Again reunion! Do it now!

Happier times:

I haven’t done one of these in a while (it might actually be since last Thanksgiving), but today’s the perfect opportunity for it. Maybe you’re stuck in the house with your entire family and you want to get away for a little bit — no better way to do it than with the clips below.

For the puritan in all of us, there’s the creepy heavy ’70s rock of Salem Mass, for the doomer, The Obsessed live in 1992. Steven Seagal shows up in the Masters of Reality video. Christopher is bound to fill your psych needs, and if it gets more stoner rock than Fu Manchu doing “King of the Road,” I don’t know how. And finally, if you don’t feel like listening to or watching music at all, there’s Ian Gillan telling stories about his time in Black Sabbath. Hope you dig it and Happy Thanksgiving (or whatever day it is when you see this).

You know we’re celebrating when “Sabbra Cadabra” comes out, and when it’s the extended version Sabbath played on the now-famous Asbury Park 1975 bootleg, we must be celebrating something big. And so we are. Yesterday my sister gave birth to her second son, making me a third-time uncle. Kid was nine pounds and looks like an old man. Makes noise like a door creaking.

Hopefully that goes toward explaining the relative lack of posts today and yesterday. I’m gonna head back over to the hospital and gaze adoringly for a while. If you’re in Philly tonight, I’ll be at the Clamfight show at the Millcreek Tavern, which, if you look below, just also happens to be where the Small Stone showcase is next month. Marvelous coincidence, that.

Next week is gonna be a little haphazard because I start work on Monday (Eek! A job!), but I’ll do my best to keep things regular around here. Stay tuned for a Yawning Man interview and reviews of Riotgod, The Kings of Frog Island and more. Meantime, be safe and enjoy the weekend.

I’ve been on a real Black Sabbath kick lately, which is about as close as I come to religion. You know how it is, you come and go with those records. You know them front and back, and it’s almost like you don’t have to put them on to hear them in your head. Well, lately I’ve been putting them on anyway, so when I stepped into one of Jersey‘s premiere indie stores (I’m not going to name which), the first place I went was the Sabbath section to see if there were any good looking bootlegs.

There were. I guess since Ronnie James Dio died last month the market has called for an upswing in material with him on it, because I was able to grab two discs from the 1980 Heaven and Hell tour. Yeah, it’s a little crass, but I had the demand before they had supply, so I don’t really feel all that bad feeding the machine on this one. Both Angel and Demon (live in Tokyo, Nov. 18, 1980) and We Blind the Sky (live in Sydney, Nov. 27, 1980) are CDR/inkjet jobs, but the covers are quality prints, the recordings are soundboards and they were only $15 a pop. I’ll pay that. $20′s pushing it, but I’ll go $15.

The setlists on Angel and Demon and We Blind the Sky (a bootleg formerly known as Burning the Cross because of a stage gimmick you can hear on the disc) are identical save for replacing “Lady Evil” on the former with “Die Young” on the latter, which also ends with “Paranoid” instead of “Iron Man,” and the mix sounds better on Angel and Demon, but you really can’t beat having Dio forget the words to the end of “Children of the Sea” as he does on We Blind the Sky. Other highlights include the sundry vocal effects that crop up and Geezer Butler‘s bass tone. Yes, on everything.

I know I’ve had some issues in the past with buying Black Sabbath bootlegs, so it seemed only fair to report an experience as positive as this one has proven to be. I also got Deep Purple, Made in Japan, and the 2CD version of the new Karma to Burn, the former used and the latter John Garcia-fied. All in all, chalk up a win, and for bonus points I’ll note they were playing Goatsnake when I walked into the store. Good things are bound to happen when you stumble on that.

If you’re looking for info on Sabbath bootlegs, there’s only one place to go: black-sabbath.de. They’re helpful in the way only true obsessives can be and they make the rest of us fanboys look like lightweights.

Here in the States, today is Memorial Day, which is basically yet another excuse for everyone to get their jingoism going and glorify war, blow fingers off with fireworks and blah blah blah. What it means to me is the official start of grilling season. True, I hate the heat and I have in fact been grilling all winter, but now it’s the season, which means eating outside, which means grilling music. Killer.

Because I’m all about sharing, here are my seven favorite barbecue records, presented in the order in which they should be played:

1. Black Sabbath, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. What this says is, “I am here to grill. I don’t care what else happens in the universe, I am going to have a good time and that is that. Now rock with me as I cook this meat.” Perfect starter album.

2. C.O.C., Wiseblood. Like Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, it’s a fun collection of songs, but Wiseblood is a little thicker sound-wise. It’s great to sing-along to, and the groove seems to run throughout the whole album, so it’s consistent too. A definite necessity.

3. Greenleaf, Agents of Ahriman. By now you’ve had a few beers and it’s time to let loose. Greenleaf‘s Agents of Ahriman is catchy, rocking and has a freedom to its sound that seems to be made for the outdoors.

4. Queens of the Stone Age, Songs for the Deaf. I confess, I love this record regardless of the food and/or climate surrounding. I try to take it everywhere, so it comes out for grilling for sure. “Go with the Flow?” Come on, man. Can’t beat that.

5. Fu Manchu, King of the Road. The last of the real rockers on the list, it’s great to finish the meal with some righteous fuzzery, and for that, there’s nowhere to go but to Fu Manchu. If you’ve got ice cream for dessert, this’ll work with it.

6. Monster Magnet, Spine of God. You’ve rocked, you’ve stuffed yourself, you’re probably more than a little intoxicated and you feel like if you ever even see another burger, your heart will explode in your chest. Clearly you’ve yanked on the spine of god and it’s time for some penance.

7. Masters of Reality, Flak ‘n Flight. This is for your cleanup. When you’ve drunkenly insulted all your relatives or friends and they’ve left and it’s just you and the mess. You put this one on and sing along as you throw away paper plates, beer bottles and the bloody packaging that once contained the meat now blocking up your colon. It’ll help ease the pain.

I’ve also found that Enslaved‘s Ruun album is great for cleanups, so if it persists longer than Flak ‘n Flight lasts, you might want to have that on-hand for reinforcements. Or maybe you just want to sit on a plastic chair in the dark for a while. It’s good for that too.

Of course, if you’re in it for the full-day barbecue experience, you’re going to need more than seven albums, but hopefully this is a decent start. If you have any longtime favorites, leave a comment and let me know about them. You can never have too much grilling music.