retiredmartin

July 2025. Birmingham.

Back from Hull, and straight off on the train to Birmingham the day after Ozzy finally left the stage for a final time.

And tonight he’s left us forever.

I’m not one to mourn the dead, but the outpouring of love for Ozzy tonight has been quite something.

In 2019 Julia Jacklin was asking the crowd at the Castle and Falcon trying to find out what Brum is famous for. I should have shouted out “Irish pubs, Pete Allen and Balti” of course, but instead 200 blokes screamed “Block Sabboff”.

The city of Birmingham had put on quite a show of its own to commemorate Sabbath’s last stand, though “birthplace of Heavy Metal” The Crown is no closer to pouring pints of Brew XI despite this classy display.

I was too young to be a Sabs fan, at 15 it was more the NWOBHM, though I bought a Portuguese reissue of “Paranoid” for 99p from Parrot Records.

But a nearly 15 year old Matt was a fan, dragging a reluctant Dad to the mud bath of Donnington ten years ago,

to hear what was billed as Sabbath’s big finale.

And though they weren’t that good, you knew you were in the presence of a legend you could forgive the murdering of his best songs.

Paranoid apart, I reckon this was the pick of them.

Cheers Ozzy.