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I didn't even know this book was being released until yesterday.
The reviews at Amazon.com say it's a pretty funny read.
Anyone else picking this up?
from Record Collector Magazine
I Am Ozzy
by Ozzy Osbourne With Chris Ayres
Sort of the diary of a madman
Ozzy Osbourne’s autobiography was always going to be a letdown in some ways. The man hardly made it easy on himself, claiming for at least a decade before its publication that the undertaking would be impossible because he can’t remember much of his past. Fortunately, this has proven to be untrue – there’s still gold in them hills, literarily speaking. The problem is that so many of the juicy details of Osbourne’s life have been conducted behind the closed doors of big business, or are still sub judice at the time of publication, that vast areas of his career with Black Sabbath or as a solo singer are skipped over.
If you’re looking for in-depth info on Patrick Meehan (Sabbath’s swindling manager) or the many lawsuits that have plagued Ozzy and his family over the years, for example, you’ll draw a blank here. Strangely, he also shows no interest in exploring the songs which he’s written and/or sung over the years. It’s telling that the one current lawsuit of most interest – Ozzy’s battle with Sabs guitarist Tony Iommi over ownership of the band’s name – is dealt with in a single, perfunctory paragraph. There’s also no mention of the fate of longtime cohort Zakk Wylde, who was dropped by the Osbourne camp with stunning callousness this year after decades of service.
Still, the bones and most of the flesh of the story are here. Ozzy rattles through his childhood and teenage years with unexpectedly precise recall, never avoiding the grim truth of those far off days, but also adding a rich dose of intelligent humour. The Sabbath years up until the death of Randy Rhoads in 1982 are the chapters that remain with the reader longest, as the 80s were taken up with Osbourne’s drug and booze issues, and the Ozzfest/MTV saga of recent years seem pretty lightweight in comparison.
Throughout, Ozzy is presented as the sad clown behind the drunken madness, admitting that he knows nothing about the record industry. For the juice on the toxic business deals and shark-like characters that lurked in the background, Sharon Osbourne’s candid autobiography, Extreme, is a better read, despite its poodles-and-celebs fluff.
The reviews at Amazon.com say it's a pretty funny read.
Anyone else picking this up?
from Record Collector Magazine
I Am Ozzy
by Ozzy Osbourne With Chris Ayres
Sort of the diary of a madman
Ozzy Osbourne’s autobiography was always going to be a letdown in some ways. The man hardly made it easy on himself, claiming for at least a decade before its publication that the undertaking would be impossible because he can’t remember much of his past. Fortunately, this has proven to be untrue – there’s still gold in them hills, literarily speaking. The problem is that so many of the juicy details of Osbourne’s life have been conducted behind the closed doors of big business, or are still sub judice at the time of publication, that vast areas of his career with Black Sabbath or as a solo singer are skipped over.
If you’re looking for in-depth info on Patrick Meehan (Sabbath’s swindling manager) or the many lawsuits that have plagued Ozzy and his family over the years, for example, you’ll draw a blank here. Strangely, he also shows no interest in exploring the songs which he’s written and/or sung over the years. It’s telling that the one current lawsuit of most interest – Ozzy’s battle with Sabs guitarist Tony Iommi over ownership of the band’s name – is dealt with in a single, perfunctory paragraph. There’s also no mention of the fate of longtime cohort Zakk Wylde, who was dropped by the Osbourne camp with stunning callousness this year after decades of service.
Still, the bones and most of the flesh of the story are here. Ozzy rattles through his childhood and teenage years with unexpectedly precise recall, never avoiding the grim truth of those far off days, but also adding a rich dose of intelligent humour. The Sabbath years up until the death of Randy Rhoads in 1982 are the chapters that remain with the reader longest, as the 80s were taken up with Osbourne’s drug and booze issues, and the Ozzfest/MTV saga of recent years seem pretty lightweight in comparison.
Throughout, Ozzy is presented as the sad clown behind the drunken madness, admitting that he knows nothing about the record industry. For the juice on the toxic business deals and shark-like characters that lurked in the background, Sharon Osbourne’s candid autobiography, Extreme, is a better read, despite its poodles-and-celebs fluff.
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