I Am Ozzy Book

There are many things to like about this book. However, if you don't like Ozzy, you won't find them, at all. This book reads as though you were listening to him in person. His British accent permeates the pages that are full of pisses, fucks and bollocks, a testament to Chris Ayres'helping-hand author of this book'ability to edit himself out of the writing. In many respects this is a very honest book, that more than once leaves you wondering how is Ozzy still alive (old school rockers do seem to be made of stern stuff, 'cause the amounts of drugs and alcohol filling this book are more serious than a bad car crash).

The good thing is that if you do find Ozzy's ways funny or at least tolerable, you'll have a good time reading this bio that it's exactly what I was expecting when I got it: a wild ride through the even wilder side of The Prince of Darkness a.k.a THE bad boy of Heavy Metal (and if not THE at least The Original one).

The slaughterhouse labor, the prison term, the dyslexia, the guns, the blackouts, the Randy Rhoads airplane crash, the eating pigeons' heads, the tremor, the mumbling, the bike accident, the many brushes with death 'they're all here. But the best part 'at least for me' is that accompanying all those scary, funny and extreme anecdotes about Ozzy's life there is also a plethora of writing about recording, touring, and creating. In other words, about Ozzy's music.

Ozzy credits his initiation to the world of music to a single moment when a light went on in his head while hearing the record With the Beatles. "It just sucked me in. Lennon and McCartney's harmonies were like magic." Beyond that and throughout the book, Ozzy does talk about his music seriously, treating with respect. He regards the survival of Black Sabbath as celestially ordained, and while there is much bile directed at miscreant band members and managers, not least Don Arden, there's also respect for them. Interestingly, Ozzy acknowledges that he was not entirely blameless in these squabbles, pinpointing the moment when his relationship with Arden began to go wrong. "It wasn't long after I almost pissed in my new father-in-law's face that he stopped calling me Ozzy." Arden is dead now, but Ozzy, once John Osbourne from Aston, has somehow pulled through. "My heart's in great shape, and my liver's like brand new," he says, showing to us that karmic justice is a concept that still evades him.

I give it a 3.5 stars. I felt tempted to give it four but I prefer you to be pleasantly surprised that bitterly disappointed .