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“Being sober on a bus is, like, totally different than being drunk on a bus.” – Ozzy Osbourne
The world got a little quieter on July 22, 2025. Ozzy Osbourne, the one and only Prince of Darkness, took his final bow at 76 years old—seventeen days after his legendary farewell performance, “Back to the Beginning.”
His passing, though not unexpected, hit hard.
I know it hit me real hard.
For a generation raised on heavy metal music, Ozzy wasn’t just a vocalist—he was an icon. The bat-biting, dove-crunching, reality-TV-wrecking madman who somehow lived long enough to tell his tale (and then some).
This is more than just another tribute.
This is a celebration of chaos, charisma, and catharsis.
It Was Bound to Happen Any Day Now
I was at work when I saw a notification on FB that Ozzy had died.
I ignored it at first because I was busy optimizing a website.
When I finally had enough time to catch a break, I checked and verified if the news was real.
It was.
My heart sank.
I knew it was bound to happen but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Like just two weeks after people are rediscovering how much of an icon he is through his Back to the Beginning tour.
I was seriously bummed out and was considering just to take the day off.
I didn’t.
Because he wouldn’t.
Ozzy was no quitter.
Life threw him all sorts of curve balls but he just kept going.
Like a juggernaut.
A wild, drugged out juggernaut.
So I kept working but at the same time, I reflected on Ozzy and made a promise to write something about him at the end of my shift.
How I First Met the Prince of Darkness… Through My Speakers
I was 10 years old, living in Tacloban City when the Prince of Darkness first talked to me.
Rain was pouring outside and I remember being bored out of my mind going through each floor of the building we lived in. there were lots of rooms in that building. Lots of stockrooms filled with medicine, old documents, and other stuff.
I remember walking into one of the stockrooms where I found a dusty old cassette tape in a box with other tapes from artists like Kenny Loggins, Barbara Streisand, Enigma, etcetera.
I remember being intrigued by the name Black Sabbath and the psychedelic cover with the black and pink combination on the cover.
So, I picked that box up and rushed upstairs where I started going through the cassettes and pushed each one into the stereo cassette player. We had a big one with very powerful speakers.
Pressed play.
And then I heard it.
The slow, doom-laden Electric Funeral.
“What is this???” I thought, half terrified, half curious.
The thunder.
The bells.
The voice.
Ozzy.
It scared the hell out of me.
I actually ran out of the room.
But that was the beginning of my love affair with music.
I kept coming back.
Just like horror movies that scare the hell out of you but you still want to keep on watching. That moment planted the seed.
Decades later, I still remember that feeling. It like it was yesterday.
Ozzy Was Never the Best Vocalist—But He Was the Best Frontman
Let’s get this out of the way.
If we’re talking vocal prowess, Ozzy Osbourne wasn’t it.
His range was limited. He had a signature nasal whine.
And to be honest, live onstage, he sang off-key.
Everybody can out sing Ozzy.
But performance?
Aura?
Stage presence?
Nobody beat Ozzy.
You can’t fake charisma.
You can’t teach madness.
Ozzy had both in spades.
From the way he’d strut in sparkly robes to throwing buckets of water at the crowd, to just standing there with arms raised like some weird, electric wizard—he commanded the stage.
He made people feel things. Whether it was fear, laughter, confusion, or just raw metal energy,
Ozzy delivered.
Every.
Single.
Time.
I Am Ozzy: A Book You Must Read
When I finally read “I Am Ozzy” years ago, everything started to make sense.
The madness, the magic, the contradictions.
The book reads like he talks—rambling, brutally honest, funny as hell, and sometimes heartbreaking.
If you’re in Davao City or Tacloban and you’re a musician or just a curious fan, do yourself a favor.
Get this book.
Pair it with Dave Mustaine’s autobiography for a darker journey, Sammy Hagar’s for some wild Van Halen shenanigans, and Rex Brown’s if you love Pantera.
But Ozzy’s book?
Essential reading.
Period.
Ozzfest: A Metal Pilgrimage That Changed the Game
Let’s rewind to the ’90s.
Metal was flailing commercially. It had turned into a parody of itself.
There were also so many unnecessary metal bands that existed in a time where people had become disillusioned with escapism and wanted a more authentic approach to music.
And Grunge kind of was the final nail in the coffin.
Nobody wanted it.
Metal became a dirty word no one wanted to be associated with.
Even Lollapalooza turned Ozzy down despite his massive drawing power.
So what did the Osbournes do?
They said, “Screw it. We’ll make our own festival.”
Ozzfest was born in 1996. It toured relentlessly, brought bands like Slipknot, System of a Down, and Disturbed into the limelight.
It wasn’t just a concert—it was a culture.
Ozzfest helped Ozzy transcend his initial metal icon status and helped him cross over to other generations of listeners. It also helped him reach over $50 million in merchandise sales.
As a 17-year-old kid, I remember seeing Ozzfest posters online and wishing I had one or I could go to one. That’s how far the festival’s influence reached. From LA to Tacloban—Ozzy’s world was loud and global.
You didn’t necessarily have to love the man to love his festival. By being the person most associated with the festival, Ozzy became loved as a by-product of teenagers like me discovering and falling in love with newer bands he brought along with him in the festival.
Controversy Was His Love Language
You can’t talk about Ozzy without mentioning the scandals.
Bit the head off a dove.
Bit a live (or dead?) bat on stage.
Urinated on the Alamo.
His life was like a movie.
A bad, chaotic one.
Then came the lawsuits—suicide accusations, song lyrics taken out of context, ex-bandmates suing him over credits.
And still, he kept going.
Ozzy never denied his darkness.
He just leaned into it, laughed at it, and somehow, kept surviving it.
A Life of Excess and the Miracle of Survival
Honestly?
He shouldn’t have lived this long.
Drugs, alcohol, pills—lahat na ata tinira niya.
He was once prescribed 13,000 doses of 32 different medications in a single year. What?! He even shot 17 of his own cats during a drug-fueled rampage (I still can’t process that).
But he had fortitude. Zakk Wylde said Ozzy had a willpower tougher than King Kong and Godzilla combined.
And I believe it.
That dude was made of rock… literally and figuratively.
… or metal.
Even after discovering he had Parkin Syndrome—a genetic condition that mimics Parkinson’s—he kept touring, kept working.
Where did he get the will and energy to keep going?
If there’s anything truly admirabl about him, it would be his sustaining power.
He was a metal god.
He was iron man.
The Final Farewell – Back to the Beginning
“Back to the Beginning” wasn’t just a tour name.
It was symbolic.
His last show.
Nobody knew it’d be the last one he’d perform in.
Everyone, including me just thought he’d live forever.
Sharon brought a lot of iconic musicians onstage to honor him.
And honor him they did.
It was raw.
It was loud.
Nostalgic.
He was frail, sure.
But the fire was still there.
Like an indestructible Yamaha V50. Old, but still good to go, every time.
Watching clips of that performance gave me goosebumps.
It felt like a full circle—a fitting end to a chaotic legacy.
Nobody knew that seventeen days later, he’d die. What a way to exit life. It was everything fans wanted it to be.
And now, even in death, Ozzy reminded us of what it means to live full throttle.
… God, I hate saying goodbye to the things and people I love.
The Legacy That Lives Forever
Ozzy Osbourne was inducted into both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the UK Music Hall of Fame. He won Grammys, had a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and even became part of the WWE Hall of Fame.
And let’s not forget his role in reality TV. “The Osbournes” changed the game. Long before the Kardashians ruled the screen, Ozzy’s chaotic home was already entertaining the masses.
In 2025, just before he passed, he was made a Freeman of the City of Birmingham. He even had a tram named after him. Not bad for a snotty teen who just happened to become a musical icon, right?
But his true legacy?
It’s in every teenager picking up a guitar because of “Iron Man.”
It’s in every scream at a metal gig.
It’s in every rebel kid who felt seen.
Final Thoughts: Why Ozzy Matters
You don’t have to be a metalhead to appreciate Ozzy Osbourne.
You just have to be human.
He made mistakes.
Went to rehab.
Nearly died.
He also made millions smile, scream, headbang, and cry.
And through all of it, he stayed Ozzy.
Unfiltered.
Unhinged.
Unforgettable.
So, here’s to the man who scared me at age 10, made me laugh in my 20s, and made me reflect in my 40s.
Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness is gone.
Long live the Prince.
Got thoughts about Ozzy, music, or metal? Drop a comment below or send a message. We metalheads gotta stick together, kahit saan pa tayo sa Pilipinas.