My mini-review (agonisingly schoolboy-styled, as is fitting because like most of us I was a teen when my ears lost their virginity)
War Pigs by Black Sabbath. Live in Paris (1970)
Sabbath showed up sharp as a knife with the chops to boot. Ozzy in his finest and most acerbic voice ever, a stiletto falsetto slicing through the air, skewering the warmongers on their own words and swords. Acid sermons for the disaffected. Memorial mantra for those murdered millions. The music itself even sounds like war. Ward is brutalising that vintage jazz kit in an indescribable way that I’ve never seen or heard before or since. Iommi’s fuzz tone and feedback is now an unearthly insistent drone, now a brief silence, and now it explodes into machine gun chatter. Geezer’s pinning it all down with galloping bassnotes, running from the frontline to tell us that all this time we’ve been lied to by our generals, our politicians, our parents, our TVs.
[video]https://youtu.be/K3b6SGoN6dA[/video]