🔗 Share this article {‘People shrieked. Wept. Got sick’: 10 Extraordinary Insights from the rock legend’s New Memoir “The truth is, man,” ponders the recently departed Ozzy Osbourne in his latest memoir. “Why would anybody want counsel from me?” Indeed, he gave us Planet Caravan and countless other iconic rock songs. But, by his personal confession, Osbourne was also a criminal, a deceiver and an substance abuser, who routinely risked his and others’ lives and decapitated a bat. (To explain, he claims, he thought it was a toy.) For all his mistakes and misdemeanours, however, Osbourne appears favorably in Last Rites: introspective, level-headed and hilariously blunt, and not just by rock star standards. Osbourne passed away in July aged seventy-six, less than three weeks after performing with the original Black Sabbath. Like a dispatch from beyond the grave, Last Rites chronicles his struggles behind the scenes with a neurological condition, risky spinal surgery in 2019 and ongoing complications. But it wasn’t entirely negative, Osbourne adds, typically self-effacing: he also provided the voice for King Thrash in Trolls World Tour, and recorded a song with Post Malone. Reflecting on his guiding principle as the “Prince of Darkness”, he states: “I had 70 great years, which is a lot longer than I ever expected or likely deserved.” Here are 10 takeaways. 1. Persistence pays off Osbourne attributes his career to his dad, who purchased for him a 50-watt PA system on installment plan for £250 – £2,000-3,000 in today’s money, and an “astronomical sum” for a factory-worker parent in Birmingham. Ozzy’s greatest regret was that he never thanked him: “Without that PA system, I’d never have left Aston.” Aged 19, and fresh out of prison (for burglary), Osbourne formed his first band: the Polka Tulk Blues Band, named after his mum’s favorite brand of talcum powder. But they were consistently metal, in essence if not yet in name. Tony Iommi, the guitarist and “unofficial leader” of Black Sabbath, severed the tips of two fingers in an workplace mishap. Not to be dissuaded, “He just created himself a set of new fingertips using an old Fairy Liquid bottle, then retrained himself how to play,” Osbourne writes. Later Ozzy showed the same determination and enterprising spirit to get high, cultivating relationships with every crooked medical professional who’d write him a prescription. “At one point I had a larger circle who were dental anaesthesiologists than the average dental anaesthesiologist did.” 2. Anything can be addictive if you’re an addict As a “top-tier” drug addict and alcoholic, Osbourne’s habits had a tendency to escalate. One pint of Guinness resulted in nine more, then cocaine, then pills; an attempt to quit smoking resulted in him smoking 30 cigars a day. His only saving grace, Osbourne writes, was that he had “never, ever wanted to shoot up … Needles just freak me out, man.” More or less everything else was acceptable, narcotic or no. Ozzy describes being addicted to all manner of drugs, of course, but also sex, fame, fast cars, Yorkshire Tea, English sweets, doodling, wordsearch books, “texting funny shit” to his mates and Peter Gabriel’s album So, which he listened to so much upon its release that his security guard was forced to take stress leave. At one point, Osbourne was eating so much ice-cream (vanilla and chocolate only, “sometimes strawberry”), he decided it would be more cost-effective to hire a chef to make it for him. “Big mistake … After a few weeks, I became pre-diabetic.” Even his healthier habits became excessive. In Los Angeles, Osbourne got addicted to apples, and “none of that granny smith bullshit”: they had to be pink ladies, hand-selected from the high-end LA grocer Erewhon. At his peak, Osbourne was eating 12 a night. “I guess I’m a former apple-a-holic now.” Three. Purchasing power isn’t driving ability Osbourne’s last bender was in 2012. “The first sign of trouble,” he writes, was when he purchased a Ferrari 458 Italia, then a second Ferrari 458 Italia, then an Audi R8 – despite not knowing how to drive. He sat his test in LA: a “piece of piss”, Osbourne writes. “All you’ve gotta do is navigate the block at this place in Hollywood and not crash into anything. They don’t even make you park, never mind do a hill start.” But once back in Buckinghamshire, the Californian driving licence made him overconfident. He started driving under the influence to High Wycombe to buy coke. “To this day, I have no recollection of ever going to High Wycombe.” Sharon – still in LA, making her TV Show The Talk – eventually got wind, sold all of his cars and got him into AA. “That one bender set me back north of half a million quid.” 4. Don’t attempt dangerous acts In 2018, Ozzy was clean for half a decade, a few months off turning 70 and busy preparing for his final concerts, No More Tours II. (The first No More Tours tour, in the 90s, had been marketed as his farewell “before I realised there’s only so much time you can spend in your back garden wearing wellies”.) Life was good, as evinced by his hi-tech bed. Osbourne describes it as having “a “bigger brain than ChatGPT”, with two remotes for him and Sharon to each control their separate sides and “motors, wires and gear wheels”. Ever since he was a boy – and through his marriage, much to Sharon’s displeasure – Osbourne had always taken to bed with a running jump. One night in 2018, he got up to relieve himself before returning to bed with his usual dramatic entrance. This time, however, he landed on the floor, hard. “To this day, I don’t understand how the fuck I could have missed it … It’s like having a Sherman tank parked in the middle of the room.” Five. Always get a second opinion … and read the small print In 2003, while filming The Osbournes, Ozzy had wrecked his quad bike, broken his neck and spent eight days in a chemical coma. The failed stage-dive into bed, 15 years later, dislodged the metal holding his shoulders and spine together, requiring intrusive surgery. Though Osbourne was advised to get a second opinion about having surgery, he wound up going ahead with a specialist he nicknamed “Dr No Socks … ’cos he didn’t wear any”. For years after the procedure, he struggled to recover and suffered serious illnesses such as sepsis and pneumonia. Together with the Covid-19 pandemic, this forced the delay, then the cancellation, of No More Tours II, fueling online rumours of Osbourne’s death. At one point he was in intensive care. “I’d never taken so many drugs in my life, which was quite a statement.” Though Ozzy did not blame Dr No Socks, he regretted not getting a second opinion, he writes. “It’s hard to imagine it could have turned out any worse.” Osbourne’s other big regret was not checking the fine print of his first contract with Black Sabbath. Not understanding the term “in perpetuity” cost the band their publishing rights, which were transferred to “a bloke called David Platz, who died in the nineties”, and since then his children. Once Osbourne asked his accountant how much that mistake had cost him. The accountant answered hesitantly, and only after being pressed, that it was roughly £100m. “I had to go and sit down.” Six. Make your mark Ozzy is ambivalent about Black Sabbath’s sinister reputation, and his own as the “Prince of Darkness” (“not that I knew who the fuck John Milton was”). His first musical love was Cliff Richard; later, he was awestruck meeting Phil Collins. Of the teenage girls who used to run out of Sabbath gigs screaming, he writes: “You’ve gotta remember, a lot more people went to church back then.” Nonetheless, when asked by Sharon to “make an impression” at a big meeting with his American label in 1980, Osbourne’s response was to pull a live dove out of his jacket pocket, having stashed it there for a vaguely-thought-out stunt about peace – and bite its head off. “The place went completely insane. People screaming. Crying. Vomiting.” Osbourne adds that he was 36 hours into a 72-hour bender. “The poor dove didn’t deserve it,” but it did help with the promotional campaign for his solo album, Blizzard of Ozz. “People thought I was an absolute fucking lunatic.” Decades later, when Covid hit, Osbourne was shaken by the risks he’d run with the dove and then the bat in Des Moines (though, again – he thought it was a toy). “Of all the bullets I’ve ever avoided, not catching some deadly disease … has gotta be right up there.” 7. Choose your opening act carefully For all its occultish stylings, Black Sabbath was “the kind of band that went on stage in our jeans and leather jackets”, Osbourne writes – “a male band … for male audiences”. They struggled when metal started to move toward spectacle. Picking Kiss to open for their mid-70s tour was a mistake, Osbourne writes, remembering their Spandex jumpsuits, bared nipples, extravagant facepaint and “half a ton of explosives”. Sabbath bassist Geezer “almost had a heart attack” at Gene Simmons, 7ft tall in platforms, flashing his tongue. Meanwhile, “The closest I got to a sexy album cover was me in a werewolf costume,” Osbourne writes. They thought they’d understood the issue: “You wanted your support act to be good, but didn’t want to overshadow yourself. You wanted Status Quo, basically.” Instead, for their 1978 tour, Sabbath ended up hiring a obscure LA outfit called Van Halen. After he watched 20,000 jaws drop at Eddie Van Halen’s futuristic performance of Eruption, Osbourne remembers “going back to our dressing room in silence and just sitting there, staring at the fucking wall”. Every night of the tour, Van Halen “just destroyed us”. Eight. Find a spouse who accepts your identity Osbourne met Sharon through her father, Don Arden, Black Sabbath’s early manager. When Paranoid came out, in 1970, she was about 18 and working as his receptionist. Sharon’s first memory of Ozzy, he writes, was when he came into the office “with no shoes on”. His first memory of her was thinking, some time later, “Wow, what a attractive chick.” They eventually married (after Osbourne’s divorce)
“The truth is, man,” ponders the recently departed Ozzy Osbourne in his latest memoir. “Why would anybody want counsel from me?” Indeed, he gave us Planet Caravan and countless other iconic rock songs. But, by his personal confession, Osbourne was also a criminal, a deceiver and an substance abuser, who routinely risked his and others’ lives and decapitated a bat. (To explain, he claims, he thought it was a toy.) For all his mistakes and misdemeanours, however, Osbourne appears favorably in Last Rites: introspective, level-headed and hilariously blunt, and not just by rock star standards. Osbourne passed away in July aged seventy-six, less than three weeks after performing with the original Black Sabbath. Like a dispatch from beyond the grave, Last Rites chronicles his struggles behind the scenes with a neurological condition, risky spinal surgery in 2019 and ongoing complications. But it wasn’t entirely negative, Osbourne adds, typically self-effacing: he also provided the voice for King Thrash in Trolls World Tour, and recorded a song with Post Malone. Reflecting on his guiding principle as the “Prince of Darkness”, he states: “I had 70 great years, which is a lot longer than I ever expected or likely deserved.” Here are 10 takeaways. 1. Persistence pays off Osbourne attributes his career to his dad, who purchased for him a 50-watt PA system on installment plan for £250 – £2,000-3,000 in today’s money, and an “astronomical sum” for a factory-worker parent in Birmingham. Ozzy’s greatest regret was that he never thanked him: “Without that PA system, I’d never have left Aston.” Aged 19, and fresh out of prison (for burglary), Osbourne formed his first band: the Polka Tulk Blues Band, named after his mum’s favorite brand of talcum powder. But they were consistently metal, in essence if not yet in name. Tony Iommi, the guitarist and “unofficial leader” of Black Sabbath, severed the tips of two fingers in an workplace mishap. Not to be dissuaded, “He just created himself a set of new fingertips using an old Fairy Liquid bottle, then retrained himself how to play,” Osbourne writes. Later Ozzy showed the same determination and enterprising spirit to get high, cultivating relationships with every crooked medical professional who’d write him a prescription. “At one point I had a larger circle who were dental anaesthesiologists than the average dental anaesthesiologist did.” 2. Anything can be addictive if you’re an addict As a “top-tier” drug addict and alcoholic, Osbourne’s habits had a tendency to escalate. One pint of Guinness resulted in nine more, then cocaine, then pills; an attempt to quit smoking resulted in him smoking 30 cigars a day. His only saving grace, Osbourne writes, was that he had “never, ever wanted to shoot up … Needles just freak me out, man.” More or less everything else was acceptable, narcotic or no. Ozzy describes being addicted to all manner of drugs, of course, but also sex, fame, fast cars, Yorkshire Tea, English sweets, doodling, wordsearch books, “texting funny shit” to his mates and Peter Gabriel’s album So, which he listened to so much upon its release that his security guard was forced to take stress leave. At one point, Osbourne was eating so much ice-cream (vanilla and chocolate only, “sometimes strawberry”), he decided it would be more cost-effective to hire a chef to make it for him. “Big mistake … After a few weeks, I became pre-diabetic.” Even his healthier habits became excessive. In Los Angeles, Osbourne got addicted to apples, and “none of that granny smith bullshit”: they had to be pink ladies, hand-selected from the high-end LA grocer Erewhon. At his peak, Osbourne was eating 12 a night. “I guess I’m a former apple-a-holic now.” Three. Purchasing power isn’t driving ability Osbourne’s last bender was in 2012. “The first sign of trouble,” he writes, was when he purchased a Ferrari 458 Italia, then a second Ferrari 458 Italia, then an Audi R8 – despite not knowing how to drive. He sat his test in LA: a “piece of piss”, Osbourne writes. “All you’ve gotta do is navigate the block at this place in Hollywood and not crash into anything. They don’t even make you park, never mind do a hill start.” But once back in Buckinghamshire, the Californian driving licence made him overconfident. He started driving under the influence to High Wycombe to buy coke. “To this day, I have no recollection of ever going to High Wycombe.” Sharon – still in LA, making her TV Show The Talk – eventually got wind, sold all of his cars and got him into AA. “That one bender set me back north of half a million quid.” 4. Don’t attempt dangerous acts In 2018, Ozzy was clean for half a decade, a few months off turning 70 and busy preparing for his final concerts, No More Tours II. (The first No More Tours tour, in the 90s, had been marketed as his farewell “before I realised there’s only so much time you can spend in your back garden wearing wellies”.) Life was good, as evinced by his hi-tech bed. Osbourne describes it as having “a “bigger brain than ChatGPT”, with two remotes for him and Sharon to each control their separate sides and “motors, wires and gear wheels”. Ever since he was a boy – and through his marriage, much to Sharon’s displeasure – Osbourne had always taken to bed with a running jump. One night in 2018, he got up to relieve himself before returning to bed with his usual dramatic entrance. This time, however, he landed on the floor, hard. “To this day, I don’t understand how the fuck I could have missed it … It’s like having a Sherman tank parked in the middle of the room.” Five. Always get a second opinion … and read the small print In 2003, while filming The Osbournes, Ozzy had wrecked his quad bike, broken his neck and spent eight days in a chemical coma. The failed stage-dive into bed, 15 years later, dislodged the metal holding his shoulders and spine together, requiring intrusive surgery. Though Osbourne was advised to get a second opinion about having surgery, he wound up going ahead with a specialist he nicknamed “Dr No Socks … ’cos he didn’t wear any”. For years after the procedure, he struggled to recover and suffered serious illnesses such as sepsis and pneumonia. Together with the Covid-19 pandemic, this forced the delay, then the cancellation, of No More Tours II, fueling online rumours of Osbourne’s death. At one point he was in intensive care. “I’d never taken so many drugs in my life, which was quite a statement.” Though Ozzy did not blame Dr No Socks, he regretted not getting a second opinion, he writes. “It’s hard to imagine it could have turned out any worse.” Osbourne’s other big regret was not checking the fine print of his first contract with Black Sabbath. Not understanding the term “in perpetuity” cost the band their publishing rights, which were transferred to “a bloke called David Platz, who died in the nineties”, and since then his children. Once Osbourne asked his accountant how much that mistake had cost him. The accountant answered hesitantly, and only after being pressed, that it was roughly £100m. “I had to go and sit down.” Six. Make your mark Ozzy is ambivalent about Black Sabbath’s sinister reputation, and his own as the “Prince of Darkness” (“not that I knew who the fuck John Milton was”). His first musical love was Cliff Richard; later, he was awestruck meeting Phil Collins. Of the teenage girls who used to run out of Sabbath gigs screaming, he writes: “You’ve gotta remember, a lot more people went to church back then.” Nonetheless, when asked by Sharon to “make an impression” at a big meeting with his American label in 1980, Osbourne’s response was to pull a live dove out of his jacket pocket, having stashed it there for a vaguely-thought-out stunt about peace – and bite its head off. “The place went completely insane. People screaming. Crying. Vomiting.” Osbourne adds that he was 36 hours into a 72-hour bender. “The poor dove didn’t deserve it,” but it did help with the promotional campaign for his solo album, Blizzard of Ozz. “People thought I was an absolute fucking lunatic.” Decades later, when Covid hit, Osbourne was shaken by the risks he’d run with the dove and then the bat in Des Moines (though, again – he thought it was a toy). “Of all the bullets I’ve ever avoided, not catching some deadly disease … has gotta be right up there.” 7. Choose your opening act carefully For all its occultish stylings, Black Sabbath was “the kind of band that went on stage in our jeans and leather jackets”, Osbourne writes – “a male band … for male audiences”. They struggled when metal started to move toward spectacle. Picking Kiss to open for their mid-70s tour was a mistake, Osbourne writes, remembering their Spandex jumpsuits, bared nipples, extravagant facepaint and “half a ton of explosives”. Sabbath bassist Geezer “almost had a heart attack” at Gene Simmons, 7ft tall in platforms, flashing his tongue. Meanwhile, “The closest I got to a sexy album cover was me in a werewolf costume,” Osbourne writes. They thought they’d understood the issue: “You wanted your support act to be good, but didn’t want to overshadow yourself. You wanted Status Quo, basically.” Instead, for their 1978 tour, Sabbath ended up hiring a obscure LA outfit called Van Halen. After he watched 20,000 jaws drop at Eddie Van Halen’s futuristic performance of Eruption, Osbourne remembers “going back to our dressing room in silence and just sitting there, staring at the fucking wall”. Every night of the tour, Van Halen “just destroyed us”. Eight. Find a spouse who accepts your identity Osbourne met Sharon through her father, Don Arden, Black Sabbath’s early manager. When Paranoid came out, in 1970, she was about 18 and working as his receptionist. Sharon’s first memory of Ozzy, he writes, was when he came into the office “with no shoes on”. His first memory of her was thinking, some time later, “Wow, what a attractive chick.” They eventually married (after Osbourne’s divorce)