From Uncut’s October 2020 issue [Take 281]. Ozzy and co on the story of Sabbath’s masterpiece. “There was no-one doing this sort of thing,” they tell John Robinson.

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IF you play video games you’ll perhaps have heard it on Guitar Hero 3, or Freestyle BMX 2. Enjoy films? It’s shown up in everything from Dazed And Confused to Suicide Squad, even the Angry Birds Movie. If you’re either of a certain age or a fan of archival British pop shows, you may even have witnessed its appearance on Top Of The Pops, and marvelled at a long-haired band at sea within a bopping studio audience, a hard-rocking albums outfit, quite unused to this kind of thing.

Such was and remains the peculiar reach of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid”, two and a bit minutes which helped unlock new worlds for the band: the singles charts, television, instant recognition. Pedants have suggested the song doesn’t stand up to clinical evaluation, but the power of the music – a choppy riff , a simple vocal melody, an ancient-sounding guitar solo – remains undeniable.

During its 50 years of service so far, it’s been misheard (during the mid-1980s “satanic panic”, concerned parents heard its lyric to be “I tell you to end your life”, not “to enjoy life”), extensively covered (by, to name a few notables, Mötley Crüe, Ministry and Weezer) and, though unrepresentative of their epic, doomy riffing, widely adored by fans. “We played it on the last Sabbath tour,” guitarist Tony Iommi tells Uncut down the line from his Midlands home. “It’s still very popular.”

It’s fair to say that in 1970, neither Black Sabbath nor their new audience quite expected anything like “Paranoid”. Originally a band called Earth, formed out of a mutual love of heavy blues, the band quickly took things in a more extreme direction, changing their name to Black Sabbath, and spreading their very loud word via European residencies (at Hamburg’s Star-Club, among others) and UK gigs from Low Hesket village hall to the Pied Bull pub in Islington.

“By the time we got to Regent Sound they’d been playing The Star-Club for six 45-minute sets a night,” recalls their first manager, Jim Simpson. “At the weekends they played eight 45s a night. By the time they came back to Britain they were like finely trained racehorses.”

The band’s scarifying debut album was just the start of their spectacular 1970. With an oversupply of material for just one record, the band were developing their follow-up while still promoting their first album. They still needed a few minutes more to turn what they had into a full length album – and what they came up with proved decisive.

OZZY OSBOURNE [vocals]: We were made by a man called Jim Simpson, who used to have a club called Henry’s Blueshouse. We used to carry our equipment around in case someone didn’t turn up; we’d say, “We’ll play.” It was hand to mouth in the beginning.

JIM SIMPSON [sabbath manager, 1969-1970]: People think they were a drug-crazed band, biting the heads off alligators, but they weren’t. They were very serious young men, dedicated to their music. We’d have band meetings: every Wednesday morning when they weren’t on the road, a business meeting in my office with an agenda. One day in the midst of all this, Geezer came in late. He leaned round the door and said “I’ve got it.” What you got? “The name.” I can still remember his facial expression to this day: “Black Sabbath.” There was a collective intake of breath. That led them to write the song “Black Sabbath” and that pointed the direction they were going to go in.

TONY IOMMI [guitar]: There was no-one doing this sort of thing, we had to break down the barriers. A lot of people just didn’t understand us and were quite honestly frightened of us in the early days. They were quite frightened to come and meet us or talk to us or anything. It was very strange. Because of the image that was built up around the band.

FIND THE FULL INTERVIEW FROM UNCUT OCTOBER 2020/TAKE 281 IN THE ARCHIVE