“What is this that stands before me?”

February 13, 1970: The Beatles are still an active band, though not for long. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison are alive and somewhat well. Between the Manson family murders and the ill fated Altamont festival, the summer of love is officially dead and buried. Flower children the world over aimlessly wander to their beloved summer’s funeral. While mourning what once was, it begins to rain. The delicate rainfall is contrasted by roaring thunder and a distant church bell. What happened next changed the world forever…

There were various 60s acts who paved the way for heavy metal. Vanilla Fudge gave us their organ driven renditions of Top 40 hits. Iron Butterfly led kids “In the Garden of Eden”, or as they said, “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”. Hendrix, Clapton, and Beck captivated audiences with their blistering six string heroics. Blue Cheer encouraged the listener to turn on, tune in, and drop out on their landmark 1968 slab of psychedelic fuzz, Vincebus Eruptum. Veterans like The Who and The Beatles threw their hats into this new hard rock ring with songs such as “I Can See for Miles” and “Helter Skelter” respectively (the latter of which was blamed for the Manson murders). Led Zeppelin and Grand Funk Railroad upped the ante even further on their first 2 albums, both released in 1969. However, all of this paled in comparison to the sheer display of heaviness unleashed upon the masses exactly half a century ago today. It was so heavy, it couldn’t be called hard rock. This was something nobody had heard before. This was heavy metal.

What other way could you describe Tony Iommi’s earthquaking monolith of a riff? Add to that the tormented wail of Ozzy Osbourne. You can hear the fear in his voice as he cries “Oh no, no, please God help me!”. As if this wasn’t enough, there’s the ever tight rhythm section of Geezer Butler and Bill Ward. They played with the precision of established jazz musicians, but possessed by spirits not of this world. Together, these four men made up Black Sabbath: “Spiral Architects” and “Masters of Reality”. Their debut album and namesake song is dark, but beautiful. It makes the listener uneasy, yet draws us in for more. Never before had such a doomed piece of music ever been written, let alone performed and recorded. If darkness had a sound, this was it.

Once the listener recovers from the initial shock of the opening track, we’re introduced to “The Wizard”. Beginning with Ozzy Osbourne’s harmonica, this track is much more blues based, but still devastatingly heavy. After all, Sabbath began as a blues band; first as Polka Tulk and then as Earth. It makes sense their debut effort contains blues leanings. With that said, aside from the harmonica and opening riff, said leanings end there. Like “Black Sabbath”, “The Wizard” deals with lyrical content in the fantastical, supernatural, and occult realm. Fellow pioneers such as Uriah Heep and Blue Öyster Cult would explore these themes further on their early releases.

We move along on our journey “Behind the Wall of Sleep”. A mid paced jam with horror inducing lyrics (“Turns your body to a corpse”), if “Sleep” proves one thing, it’s that nobody riffs like Iommi. You probably figured that out on the first two tracks. In case you didn’t, consider this a friendly reminder. While Iommi’s riffs are the blackened heart and soul of Sabbath, he’s not the only player who stands out on their debut. “N.I.B.” begins with the wah wah bass of Geezer Butler. Not only does he introduce the song, but it’s he who delivers the bulldozing riff which leads the song, only to be accompanied by Iommi. Before this record, the general structure of a hard rock song was for the guitar to lead the way while the bass held the rhythm alongside the drums. To call Iommi and Butler’s twin riffing “revolutionary” would be an understatement. The icing on the devil’s food cake? The infamous lyric: “My name is Lucifer, please take my hand.” Such a lyric caused mass controversy. Many believed “N.I.B.” stood for “Nativity in Black”. In reality, it was an innocent reference to the “nib” that was Bill Ward’s beard at the time.

Exit side A. Enter side B. This side begins with the closest thing you’ll hear on the album to a pop song. Released a month prior as a single, “Evil Woman (Don’t You Play Your Games with Me)” was a cover of a song by American hard rock act, Crow. The original version was a modest hit for the band, reaching the Billboard Top 40. It only made sense Sabbath covered it in an attempt for their version to chart in their native England. Back in those days, bands needed at least one single to present to their label and it definitely wasn’t going to be the title track. I’ve always compared this song to Deep Purple’s “Black Night”, also released as a single in 1970. Both are great tracks and prove that the bands could pack a punch even when being subdued.

Following this slice of pop goodness, it’s back to doom and gloom. “Sleeping Village” begins with an ominous, acoustic intro. Even unplugged, Sabbath could scare the daylights out of you. It foreshadows songs like “Planet Caravan” and “Solitude”, before diving head first into another monster of a riff. The riff leads to some jamming between Iommi, Butler, and Ward, only to segue into another cover and the album’s closer, “Warning” , originally by The Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation. If you were to grade Sabbath’s debut on virtuosity alone, this 10 minute track would be the magnum opus. We’ve heard for half a century about Iommi the riff master, Iommi the riff lord. Hell, look no further than this reflection piece. But what Iommi doesn’t get enough credit for are his solos. Exhibit A: The last 5 minutes of “Warning”.

I’ve always imagined Page and Iommi on a dimly lit, barroom stage, dueling in front of an audience of freaks and bikers. Page plays his blistering solo from Zeppelin’s “Heartbreaker”. His mat of black curls sticks to his face as sweat drips down his forehead. Once he finishes, Iommi smiles, his mustache curling cheek to cheek. He cracks his knuckles and plays “Warning”. The crowd stands in awe. Page stands in disbelief. Even he knows he can’t compete and proudly extends his arm for a firm, brotherly handshake. After all, real knows real.

Just like this, in a little under 40 minutes, heavy metal was born. Sabbath wouldn’t be the lone torchbearers of metal for long. 1970 would see the debut albums of Uriah Heep, Lucifer’s Friend, and Sir Lord Baltimore. Psychedelic rockers Deep Purple would introduce the world to their new leather lunged singer, Ian Gillan, and quickly embrace this new, heavy sound. Sabbath would even outdo themselves later that year with Paranoid. None of this would be possible, however, if it weren’t for the events that transpired on this day in 1970. Long live Iommi! Long live Sabbath! Long live heavy metal!