The Bobby Rock Newsletter #119 (7-27-25) - The Ozzy Effect
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My Friends -
As many of you may know by now, these Newsletters are written fairly spontaneously, usually over a two or three-day period. But the thing is, the way they start off is not always the way they wind up. I usually have a few ideas about what I want to get into, but then as I start to write—boom—life happens, we take an unexpected left turn, and the Newsletter once again has a mind of its own.
Case in point this week: Here's how this one began...
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London Calling
7-21-25 - The Flight
Hey kids, coming at ya from 35.000 feet, heading back across the pond for a couple weeks of shows with Lita Ford and crew.
With guitarist Patrick Kennison in the background there...
I then proceeded with my Plan A stuff for this Newsletter and did some writing on the flight. But none of that material would make this edition. By the time we touched down in London, and band and crew were shuttled a few hours northwest to Wolverhampton, things in the world would shift.
7-22-25 - The News
I woke up from a nap to a link in a text from my old friend and bandmate, Dana Strum, about "Remembering Ozzy Osbourne." I figured it was some kind of retrospective on his life and career in the aftermath of this recent final show with Black Sabbath. But no. It was news of his passing. This floored me.
And then I realized where we were in England and wondered how far it was from Birmingham... the place it all began for both Ozzy and the mighty Sabbath. A couple clicks on my Map app spelled it out: 12 miles! And then it hit me: the next night, we would be playing a show right here in the Ozzy mecca, performing the infamous Lita-Ozzy duet, "Close My Eyes Forever." Damn! What are the odds that I might wind up in this exact part of the world, at this very moment, with a chance to pay a hallowed homage to the main man, for his hometown folks? Synchronicity on overdrive!
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7-23-25 - KK's Steel Mill, Wolverhampton
Our first show was a sold out affair at a 1200+ seat club owned by legendary Judas Priest guitarist, K.K. Downing. It was converted from a drafty automotive factory built in 1903 and carries that rugged, cold-concrete ambience that still oozes from the cells of this working class city. The show unfolded beautifully, effortlessly, and when we finally got to "Close My Eyes Forever," we let the magic happen.
Here's what I wrote on social the next morning:
The crowd started chanting Ozzie's name after Lita introduced "Close My Eyes Forever." It was quite a moment. Patrick fucking killed it on Ozzie's part, as always, which I imagine must've been tough, given all the emotion in the room. Must've been difficult for Lita, as well. But we all took a moment to get in the right headspace during our preshow zen, and everything worked out. London tonight!
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Yes, quite a moment indeed. I filmed a bit of the intro from behind the kit, but then cut it short so I could actually be in the moment, rather than worry about filming the moment. You could actually feel the collective sadness, reverence, love, and numb shock in the room. I recognized that every soul before us had their own personal history with this sweet, authentic, and endearingly wacky genius of a human, who orchestrated so much of that proverbial soundtrack of our youth—and beyond.
I felt myself getting emotional, as I pondered my own long and winding Ozzy connection through the decades. But I just buried my face in my towel for a few like I was soaking away the sweat and got my shit together. After all, with the drumless half of the song now almost over, it was time to get back to work.
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The Ozzy Chair
For me, the implications of Ozzy and Sabbath run as deep as it gets. It would be my first hearing of Black Sabbath's Volume IV—and a neighborhood drummer named Cole Newbury who was jamming along to it—that would spark my awakening to music, drums, and a life pursuit that continues to this very day. Paranoid would be the second record I ever bought as a kid, and Black Sabbath at the Sam Houston Coliseum (with Boston opening on their debut album tour!), fall of '76, among my first concerts. Hell, I can even remember phases where there were only Sabbath records stacked up on my turntable, and primarily Sabbath t-shirts comprising my wardrobe.
In the LA years ahead, my path would cross with Ozzy's in strange ways. For nearly 30 years, I had a private drum studio at a well-known LA rehearsal facility, that had been constructed alongside a row of large storage rooms. Ozzy had two gigantic lock-outs next to my studio: one next door that appeared to be more private, overflow personal items (furniture, etc.), and one across the hall that was jammed with stage gear. I never saw Ozzy near the lockers, although I would occasionally bump into him in one of the other buildings where the rehearsal studios were.
One afternoon, I was heading into my studio to practice when I saw that almost the entire hallway was jammed with all kinds of boxes, furniture, and miscellaneous "storage items." One of Ozzy's lockers was open and Sharon Osbourne was there with several helper/assistants, sorting things out and obviously in the middle of a serious purging of some sort. There was so much shit everywhere, I could barely open the door to my studio. When Sharon saw me struggle to enter my space, she apologized profusely and said they would be out of my way shortly. "No worries," I responded. It was amusing.
A bit later, as I was navigating my way out of the building through the crowded hallway, an unusual piece of furniture caught my eye: it was an elegant, antique-looking bench chair... richly upholstered in these striking copper-orange and burgundy-red hues, accented with Asian floral designs, and with 10" tassels draped to the floor. Wow. East-meets-west like a motherfucker. Was it from Asia or Europe? I wondered. I stopped to admire the piece but, respectfully, was careful not to touch it. Sharon saw me scoping it.
"You like that one?" she called out.
"Oh man, it's gorgeous," I replied.
"You want it?" she asked.
"Are you serious?" I responded.
"Yes. We have way more stuff to contend with around here than we know what to do with. Please, take it!"
"Oh shit! Thanks!"
I picked up my new "antique" and carried it safely out of the building and into my car... before someone might change their mind! And thus, the "Ozzy chair" would become a permanent fixture in my office in the years ahead. In fact, I recently moved it into my new studio, where it sits right behind the desk. I sometimes lay back on it, as I listen to an instrumental version of "Supernaut" (from Sabbath's Volume IV) that we've been working on for my next solo record. Talk about a full-circle experience.
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Carry On...
7-26-25 - Wales, UK
So now it's Saturday afternoon, and I'm just trying to put the finishing touches on this bitch. We played London two nights ago and, again, it was a nice moment when we got to "Close." The show went over well and we all had a blast. One of the unique things about these past two shows was that Vixen was on the bill with us, and we had the girls come on stage and play "Cherry Bomb" with Lita. They sounded great! Here's a shot we took with them after one of our meet-and-greets, which we did together before each show.
After the set, I took a nice 5-mile run through the streets of London at 2:00 AM. Since becoming a father, I'm generally cautious about running around populated areas in big cities late at night... just to play if safe. I used to not give a fuck and would pretty much run anywhere, at any time (except for late-nights in Detroit!). But some of the locals told me it was pretty desolate in this section of London late at night, so I went for it.
This run was a great purging of the soul, reflecting on the shows, my Ozzy/Sabbath history... the sentiment, the memories, the sadness of his passing, and for his family... just sort of "zeroing out" and burning off all the last fumes of accumulated emotion. It was actually a perfect night to run, mild and breezy, and all without incident... although I was waiting for Jack the Ripper to jump out of one particularly dark and secluded alleyway I ran through. It was eerie and stone quiet, except for the sound of my feet hitting the pavement. I did this run at an impressively brisk pace, if I'm being honest!
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And onward we go. Hitting at a festival here in Wales tonight, just behind WASP. Fun, fun, fun...
PS. Now a bit later... and yes... it was grand!
Calm before the storm...
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My bandmates, just before blast-off: Lita, Marten, Patrick
Onward to Germany...
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Thanks again, everybody. Connect soon!
Until then,
BR
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