“My first real encounter with Ozzy was when he came to my door after I had answered his note ‘Ozzy Zig needs a gig’ in a local music shop. That was 57 years ago, in 1968. He was dressed in his dad’s brown work overall, a chimney brush over his shoulder, a shoe on a dog lead and bare feet. After I stopped laughing, I asked what he wanted and he told me he’d come about joining my band. I told him what kind of music we were doing, he said, ‘Let’s do it,’ and that was it. He kept me in fits of laughter ever since. We had the same warped sense of humour, which seemed to bring us closer as friends, as well as working together.
“I had seen him around Aston occasionally, but never thought I’d end up being friends with him as he was what we of long hair would call a ‘mohair’ – meaning a bloke with an almost-shaved head wearing mohair suits and into soul music. Whereas I was into Cream, Hendrix, Mayall and hard rock, and had hair down past my shoulders. But we became as close as any hetero blokes could be.
“When we joined up with fellow Aston inhabitants Tony Iommi and Bill Ward, the circle was formed. We all had similar backgrounds and we all knew about the rougher side of life, which helped shape our music. Ozzy was unique in knowing how to vocalise Sabbath’s heavy riffs, and making my lyrics sound like they were coming from his very soul. Such incredible talent. He was also a wizard at the slower ‘ballad’ songs, such as Changes and Planet Caravan. Nobody else could sound as menacing on heavier songs but then as gentle on the slower stuff.
“Through all the success both with Sabbath and solo, he always was down to earth. He never forgot his working class upbringing, never developed the ego common to many successful musicians, and in the ’70s he always kept a wad of cash in case everything went pear-shaped.
“He wasn’t aware of how great he was, and how much people loved him. The imposter syndrome weighed heavily on him, in spite of his wild man image – Ozzy was a very fragile person in the later days of ’70s Sabbath. But that changed when he met and married Sharon, who knew exactly what he needed for his self-esteem, and made him believe in himself, guiding him to massive solo success.
“When I was asked to take part in the Back To The Beginning gig at Villa Park, of course I said yes. I knew Ozzy was having health issues, but I wasn’t prepared to see how far his health had deteriorated when we got together for rehearsals. He was determined to finish where it all started: back in Aston. The rehearsals were quite gruelling for him, but he didn’t complain once. He was glad to be back with his old friends and colleagues, Tony, Bill and myself.
“The final gig went great. The incredible response from the greatest metal and rock bands and musicians was heartwarming – they had come to support Ozzy and his charities, to pay one last homage to the voice of metal. Ozzy gave his best; it took a lot of courage and balls to give his final performance, sitting in his throne. When he tried to stand, it brought a tear to my eye, but he gave his all. He loved his fans, and they certainly loved him. After the show, backstage was absolutely crammed with well wishers, relatives, friends and fellow musicians. I didn’t get to say goodbye to Ozzy or Bill, as it was chaotic back there. Little did I know the next time I’d see Ozzy would be at his house in Buckinghamshire, in his coffin.
“The outpouring of grief and love and tributes to Ozzy was incredible – a true send-off to the greatest frontman, singer and character in music. The Sabbath bench in Birmingham became a shrine, and thousands of people lined Broad Street to pay respects at his funeral procession.
“Of course, Ozzy may be physically gone, but his legacy will live forever. He brought so much happiness to his fans, he brought hope to many, and made our lives a little more joyful. The Prince Of Darkness, but to me The Prince Of Laughter And Friendship. Long live Ozzy!”