Dusty's Record Review: August '07

Arise, ye prisoners of starvation,
Arise, ye wretched of the earth,
For justice thunders condemnation –

Eugene Pottier

In late 1970, Black Sabbath launched a salvo of thunder across the bow of rock and roll in the form of Paranoid. Their second album, released only months after their debut, brought the band national acclaim and nefarious reputation in both England and the United States. From the first hammering yowl and thump of the opening track, War Pigs/Luke’s Wall (written, naturally enough, as a protest to the war in Vietnam), it was something that struck awe in the hearts and minds of the rock and roll fan and fear in the psyche of those who prefer their music a little bit safer. Tommy Iommi’s almost hypnotic and hair raising riffs seemed to set fire to his fret board, backed by a monolithic back beat at the hands of a down-tuned bass of Geezer Butler and the rock-steady, machine shop rhythms supplied by Bill Ward. And then there was Ozzy. His approach to vocals, while being a dervish dance between screaming, howling and deep, soul-full releases of bottomless well of fear and pain, fell right into the groove. It gives the band its fierce all over metal sound that remains as maniacal and pounding today as it did when released over thirty years ago.

Paranoid, the title track, and the bands first song to catch any real airplay in the United States, was written late as a filler to add some length to the album. It fell into place easily with War Pigs, again, as if Iommi had plugged his guitar directly into an industrial grinder, turned it up to twelve and gave sound to a madness that rattles around in the night.

A dankly moody Planet Caravan follows Paranoid. An interesting tune on the album in that it has the feel of a foul nightmare breaking out in the middle of a hippie daydream. As if you’re watching the sunset through gasoline vapors rising from concrete.

The next offering became a rock anthem of sorts: Iron Man. With it’s brutish chording, behind the nut bends and a haunting melody line punctuated by a savage vocal rammed through an abattoir, it became an instantly recognizable, bone crushing exercise containing a riff that almost everyone who has held a guitar has tried to master, at least once.

Electric Funeral is a roughshod, power hungry march up the side of a mountain, swords drawn, readying for battle. The sound of Geezers bass rumbling under Iommi’s guitar work gives this song an extra dimension and one that continues to pop up on metal records even now.

Hand of Doom is about as close to schizophrenia as I have ever heard recorded. It slogs along in parts, breaking out into a flat run of angst and hubris, spinning almost out of control before settling down again for a moment. The result is a song that refuses to allow the listener a moment to relax, a chance to process what they have just heard before charging off again into the misty highlands of the battle.

Rat Salad is the one track on the album that, to me, has always felt a little out of place, as if they needed a place for Ward to show his chops via a solo. Much better live and in concert but slightly out of sync with the rest of the album. However, if you’re a fan of the extended drum solo, you will enjoy this track.

The album ends with a 6:50 rip-snort titled Jack The Stripper/Fairies Wear Boots. It’s a perfect culmination to this metal feast as it shows the absolute fist pumping muscle and metal mastery in its entire early head banging glory. Again, Sabbath throws out the rules of tempo, loading the song with a variety of timings, slick runs, earthy chording and an overall sound of the primal.

Although Black Sabbath has attained an almost legendary status, at the time of Paranoid, to some they were derided as being evil, possible Satanists, a horrid freak show that intended to lead the youth into the very depths of Hell itself. But to many rock and roll fans, Sabbath was new, fresh and exciting. Somehow they had managed to catch teenage rage and confusion and set it to music. Somehow they had managed to record what we were all feeling but feared articulating.

Even if you’re not a fan of the genre, this is still a must listen to album if for no other reason than to hear what power can be generated when the right musicians come together at the right time. If you are a metal-head, take a trip back and take a listen to what has become an accepted form of music when it was still stumbling in the dark, struggling for its legs, shaking its fists at the sky.

Those things that go bump in the night? This is what they are listening to when the lights go out.