Ozzy! Ozzy! Ozzy! Went to the Ozzy Osbourne concert last night at the Molson Centre. Kewl! I'm not really a heavy metal fan, but I couldn't resist the idea of going to see the father of goth live (more or less) on stage amidst a crowd of adults and kids who knew all the words to "Paranoid". They sang them whilst bobbing their heads up and down--long hair works exceptionally well under these circumstances. Mostly a boys-bonding (bondage?) thing, row upon row of men who flung their arms around one another and looked at each other meaningfully, as if to say, "Hey man, do you remember that night when we..." and there's no need to finish the thought because... It was a simple affair. A massive drum kit. A bass guitar. A lead guitar. And a singer. There was a keyboardist in the background, but he didn't count. Nope, it was just the dudes with the long hair and their axes swung low on their hips. The lead guitarist did the de riguer solo (while Ozzy was off stage recuperating mid set) that included him playing not only behind his head but ~using his mouth~. Ew. Gross. Where *have* those strings and frets been, I wonder. As for Ozzy, well...I think he was wearing my grandpa's slippers judging fom the way he literally shuffled accross the stage. You sensed he didn't have much muscle strength, as he could barely raise his hands above his head. But his heart was there, although his hearing didn't seem to be, as he kept on admonishing the crowd with these immortal words: "I can't fuckin' hear you." Well, Ozzy, we heard you, and you were fuckin' fabulous! Mr. Crowley, won't you ride my white horse Mr. Crowley, it's symbolic of course Approaching a time that is classic I hear maidens call Approaching a time that is drastic Standing with their backs to the wall Was it polemically sent l wanna know what you meant I wanna know I wanna know what you meant

No comments: