A Final Farewell to the Masters: Black Sabbath and Ozzy Bring It Home One Last Time

By Zach Moonshine

Wow... what a concert. Still trying to process everything I just witnessed. When you’ve been a fan of this music your entire life, moments like this hit deep—and this one was nothing short of monumental.

The lineup was pure metal royalty: Black Sabbath, Ozzy Osbourne, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Pantera, Slayer, Tool, Anthrax, Alice In Chains, Lamb of God, and more. Legends, all paying tribute to the godfathers of heavy metal. From the stories to the song covers, the emotion in the air was undeniable. But without question, the highlight of the night was Ozzy and Sabbath taking the stage together one final time.

I’ve seen Ozzy. I’ve seen Sabbath. More times than I can count. But this... this was something else. A lifetime of memories came flooding back. Goosebumps, tears, joy, sorrow—all at once. When Ozzy launched into Mama, I’m Coming Home, it hit me like a freight train. It wasn’t just a song anymore—it was a goodbye.

It’s bittersweet. We know we’ll never experience this again, but I’m so damn grateful we got to see it one last time. This wasn’t just a concert. It was a celebration. A eulogy. A reminder of why we fell in love with heavy metal in the first place.

For me, it all started when I was around 10 years old. I walked into a local record store with my allowance burning a hole in my pocket, dead set on buying an Ozzy cassette. I didn’t really know his music yet—just the stories, the controversy, the Satanic Panic buzz that made it all sound dangerous and exciting. I saw Bark at the Moon and Blizzard of Ozz on the shelf, but it was Speak of the Devil that caught my eye. That cover art was just too killer to ignore.

I popped the tape into my Walkman, threw on my headphones, and boom—that voice pulled me into another dimension. The songs were raw, haunting, electrifying. Later, my mom heard me blasting it in my room and said, “I know those songs... that’s Sabbath.” Turns out, she used to listen to them when she was younger.

The next day, she hit a few yard sales and came home with Paranoid on vinyl. That was it. Game over. My mind was blown wide open. That was the moment I became a metalhead for life.

That spark led me to start playing music, to launch a radio show, to build a career in music PR, to promote shows, festivals, and bands. Everything I’ve done—everything I am—traces back to that moment. To Sabbath. To Ozzy. To that evil fucking riff that changed the world.

It’s hard to put into words just how much this music has shaped me—and so many of us. It’s more than sound. It’s a way of life. A bond that connects generations. A fire that still burns in basements, venues, and hearts across the globe.

Every single day I get to do what I do at Metal Devastation Radio is because of what those guys created in Birmingham all those years ago. And I’ll never forget it.

So from the bottom of my heart—thank you, Black Sabbath. Thank you, Ozzy. Your legacy lives on in every riff, every scream, every fan still banging their head in the pit.

Until the end.

-- Zach Moonshine