Ozzy Osbourne: The Prince of Darkness Had Ohio in His Grip

Written by Malik Perkins
July 23rd, 2025

Source: John Kuntz, cleveland.com

Ozzy Osbourne, the legendary Black Sabbath frontman and architect of heavy metal’s most unholy sounds, has died at 76. Known worldwide as the Prince of Darkness, Ozzy’s growling vocals, chaotic energy, and unapologetic weirdness shaped generations of music fans—and yes, Ohio had its share of run-ins with the madness.

While the world mourns one of rock’s most outrageous and influential icons, few may realize how deeply Ozzy’s shadow stretched into the Buckeye State. Cleveland, a city already known for its gritty rock-and-roll roots, played host to a vital chapter in Osbourne’s live legacy. In 1981, just months before guitarist Randy Rhoads’ untimely death, Ozzy and his band delivered a blistering performance at Cleveland Music Hall. Several tracks from that night—including “Paranoid,” “Iron Man,” and “I Don’t Know”—were immortalized on the Randy Rhoads Tribute album, a release that still ranks among the most visceral live recordings in metal history.

Ohio’s other major Ozzy moment? That would be Ozzfest ’97 near Columbus—an event that went down in metal lore for all the wrong reasons. Fans packed into Polaris Amphitheater, ready for a Sabbath reunion that night. But when Ozzy lost his voice and canceled, chaos erupted. Riots broke out, fires were set, and the festival had to be rescheduled. It was pure rock anarchy—the kind of mayhem Ozzy didn’t always plan for but somehow always inspired.

From the ashes of Birmingham to the concert halls of Cleveland and the riot fields of Columbus, Ozzy Osbourne left his mark in more ways than one. He wasn’t just a legend on stage—he was a living embodiment of what it meant to be loud, raw, and real.

Now, as tributes pour in from the likes of Black Sabbath, Elton John, and Tom Morello, Ohio fans have their own stories to tell—stories of being there when Ozzy howled into the mic in downtown Cleveland, or when metalheads went wild in a field outside Columbus waiting for the Prince who never came.

Ozzy may be gone, but in every raised horn, shattered speaker, and black-shirted misfit, his legacy screams on.

Rest easy, Ozzy.