On Tuesday, July 22nd, 2025, we lost Ozzy Osbourne. Between Black Sabbath, his solo work, his reality show, and Ozzfest, his impact on the world of heavy metal, much less of pop culture as a whole, defies conventional description. The world is in mourning over the loss of a bonafide legend, and we here at The Nu Metal Agenda have assembled a collection of tributes to the Godfather of Heavy Metal.
Cain Borgia: Even if you weren’t into Ozzy’s solo music or his work with the legendary Black Sabbath, you’d be a fool to think you could go about the rock and metal world without hearing or seeing the man. “Crazy Train” is an eternal part of sporting events, “War Pigs” continues to be the cover of choice for artists who want to pay tribute to the Sabbath, and you’ve probably seen, or at least heard of, The Osbournes. I’m one of those cases. I never found my way into the discography of Ozzy or Sabbath. It never exactly clicked for me.
However, Ozzy’s influence is palpable in everything else I’ve ever listened to, especially my deep love for black metal. One of my favorite live performances of all time is Dimmu Borgir at Ozzfest 2004 in San Antonio; one of the best sets they ever did, in my opinion, even with their gaudy orchestral set ups nowadays. I like to think that many festival goers that day got introduced to a whole different area of the metal world by way of Ozzy including them in the lineup, opening up many eyes and minds to what music can truly offer. That’s kind of beautiful coming from the Prince of Darkness. I hope he knows that beauty was returned as he looked out on the crowd during his final show.
Lucia Z. Liner: Given that I grew up in the mid-2000s in the Midwest, Guitar Hero was a gateway drug for me and heavy music. Hearing songs like “Stricken” by Disturbed and “The Number of the Beast” by Iron Maiden kicked off a love of hard rock and heavy metal that has led me to this very publication. I’d rattle off all of the songs I had just played through to my mother, who I eventually badgered to get me a guitar so I could actually play the songs I worked through on that little plastic guitar.
While my guitar skills have fallen off - and that’s a mess of my own making - my love of the game has not, and Black Sabbath has quite a bit to do with that.
“Paranoid” would have been my first exposure to Sabbath, and by extension, Ozzy, and the rest, as they say, is history. I remember saving up allowance money to get their Greatest Hits CD and eventually blasting it in my hand-me-down pickup truck in high school. My freshman year of college, I met a Vietnam veteran named Dave in my psych 101 class, and we quickly bonded over music, thanks in part to a Sabbath shirt I had. He ended up giving me a few of his old Sabbath CDs by semester’s end, and we stayed in touch until his death.
Dave, if you do bump into Ozzy in the great beyond, thank him for me.
Ozzy Osbourne is a unifying figure in our world. People know him for one thing or another, be it the bat thing or “Crazy Train” or Sabbath or the reality show. No matter how you know Ozzy, it really feels like we all knew him in some way or another, and not since the death of Robin Williams will I be able to perfectly recall where I was when I heard the news of Ozzy’s death.
To the folks at the Biggby in Bowling Green, sorry for startling y’all with how loudly I gasped.
And to Ozzy, the godfather of metal, the prince of darkness, the foundation upon which heavy music was built upon… thank you.
Timon De Zwaef: I started listening to Ozzy’s work pretty much right after realizing I no longer wanted to be a vanquished foe of The Metal. Because once you let The Metal into your life, Ozzy and Sabbath sort of become mandatory listening. It’s like discovering the source.
Listening to Black Sabbath’s early ’70s material still feels like you’ve stumbled into something you weren’t meant to see: occult rituals, war, twisted fairy tales, and what have you. It’s like being dragged into Ozzy’s head, watching a looming apocalypse through his eyes while war drums echo in the distance. Or standing beside him in a crumbling, candlelit cathedral, with some supernatural freak creeping just out of sight. His voice is fragile, haunting, and above all, human—like he’s channeling these visions more than performing them. Like he knows something you don’t, and it’s bad fucking news. It’s a genuinely dreadful feeling only a handful of other bands have ever given me.
Sabbath’s music is obviously timeless, but way more culturally foundational than they’re often credited for. These Brummies basically cracked open a portal, and now everyone’s living in the world they accidentally summoned. The themes they pioneered as songwriters are baked into every D&D campaign you’ve ever taken part in and embedded in a massive swath of horror media you’ve probably consumed. And it makes sense, considering the band members were influenced by nerdy stuff themselves. That’s part of why Sabbath remains one of the most interesting bands to discuss with my dad and friends. They evoke entire worlds.
If you’re thankful for nu metal, you have to be extra thankful for Ozzy’s legacy. Fred Durst wouldn’t have been breaking stuff if it weren’t for Ozzy. Lajon Witherspoon wouldn’t have been looking at that fucking rainbow while performing if it weren’t for Ozzy. Rage Against the Machine? Primus? Mike Patton? Gone. All of it.
And now, as the Prince of Darkness makes his final deal with the devil, my father and I continue to share unintelligible clips from The Osbournes in the family group chat.
rosiegothicc: When you're eight, your brain hasn't fully developed, so your taste in anything doesn't really formed yet. However, everyone has their pipeline to heavy music. For me, it was the cliff that was video games and the jumping-off point was the internet at age 10. I didn't really have anything but AOL, 56k dial-up internet, and a home console, so if you're like me, you go to your friend's house for video games.
It's 2008 and your friend shows you a game system you haven't seen from the last generation. The all-bulky PS2. It's Halloween and your friend shows you his copy of Guitar Hero. While your mind isn't necessarily blown at the low poly graphics, you are blown away watching your friend Gabriel FC on expert. Most people when they remember FC’ing guitar hero "Through the Fire and Flames" by Dragonforce I remember my 7 year old friend FC'ing "Bark at the Moon" barely holding his tiny hands on the rainbow fret buttons, shredding like he's never had before. I went home that night and looked up "Bark at the Moon" on YouTube, and my love for heavy music started.
My second memory is admittedly a little more depressing. One of the last good memories where I felt my father cared was when he gifted me a busted vintage copy of Sabbath's Master of Reality. Looking back, I really took this kind gesture for granted. If can get personal me and my father haven't been in a healthy parent daughter relationship even before I transitioned in 2021. We're healing, but what my dad and I bonded around and still do bond around is music. His tastes may be less heavy than mine, but he always encouraged me to pursue that.
Not so much anymore, but I digress.
All I'm saying is that at 13 you don't recognize how awesome something is when you don't trust the person helping you with that. That album definitely was the heaviest “older metal” at the time I heard (by comparison, the newest at the time was Whitechapel). Now that I heard that Ozzy died, I gave it a listen and I say it's my favorite Sabbath and Ozzy-related record I have heard. I feel bad I let that interaction ruin that album for me. It was so stupid of me. If you have any time today get a nice pair of headphones or speakers if you have them. Listen to "Solitude" while sitting in a room alone. It will change your life.
