BLACK SABBATH: VOL. 4 (1972)
1) Wheels Of Confusion; 2)
Tomorrow's Dream; 3) Changes; 4) FX; 5) Supernaut; 6) Snowblind; 7) Cornucopia;
8) Laguna Sunrise; 9) St. Vitus Dance; 10) Under The Sun.
Much to the band's honor, back in 1971-72 they did
not entertain the idea of milking a particular formula to death. The new sound
that they discovered with Master Of
Reality could have been a gold vein that they could have easily exploited
for another dozen albums in a row. But the pressure was on to grow, develop,
and explore — even at the risk of coming up with musically inferior results.
Maybe the fans would be content with a total carbon copy of Master, but the band members themselves
would not. The heat was still on.
As it is, Vol.
4 is a curious result of the clash of two conflicting factors — Black
Sabbath's desire to chart out new territories, and Black Sabbath's personal
decline under the pressures of fame, fortune, and everything that went together
with the rags-to-riches transformation, most notably, booze and drugs. There is
no better track to illustrate that clash than ʽFXʼ, a short non-musical
interlude that walks the line between «avantgarde» and «coke-fueled stupidity»
— apparently, Tony discovered that his crucifix could make a funny noise when
accidentally hit against the guitar strings, and the band members then took
turns hitting the strings with various objects and adding echo effects for
extra giggly fun. Wheeee! (And no, there has been no positive evidence so far
for Ozzy's ding-a-ling being one of the «various objects», but I wouldn't be
surprised).
On a more serious note, Vol. 4 sees the addition of keyboards (used sparingly and all of
them played by the band members themselves, although ʽChangesʼ is pretty much all keyboards), elements of «soulful»
soloing (such as the short intro to ʽWheels Of Confusionʼ), and even an actual
orchestra (on ʽSnowblindʼ and most prominently on the instrumental ʽLaguna
Sunriseʼ). Progress ahoy, but it comes at the expense of some of that
earth-rumbling brutality: the «soul» component that suddenly appears out of
nowhere takes the place of the «doom» component, and, above all, if you want to
love Vol. 4, you have to have a
little love for Ozzy, whose presence here is far more crucial than on Master Of Reality — no wonder they put
him up on the album cover.
Riff-wise, Tony seems to be temporarily short
on great ideas. This becomes obvious almost immediately: the main chord
sequence that drives ʽWheels Of Confusionʼ is sort of a «basic» blues-rock
pattern that carries little meaning in and out of itself (no «crashing waves» impressionism
of ʽSweet Leafʼ here). ʽCornucopiaʼ, melody-wise, seems like a hybridization of
Sabbath's own ʽAfter Foreverʼ with Cream's ʽPoliticianʼ — not a good sign at
all. The «boogie» mid-section of ʽUnder The Sunʼ unexpectedly rips off Deep
Purple's ʽFlight Of The Ratʼ — no big crime, but sort of a «telling» detail,
I'd say.
And, finally, neither ʽTomorrow's Dreamʼ, nor
ʽSt. Vitus Danceʼ have ever managed to stick with me, the former sounding like
a failed attempt to do something different with the «fat» psychedelic distorted
guitar tone of Leslie West from Mountain, and the latter trying to glue
together a «power-poppy» part with a colorful guitar merry-go-round and a
generic metal part that, again, sounds like a re-stringing of several chord
sequences from Paranoid and Master Of Reality. (Even so, I think
the descriptions themselves suggest that at least they're trying to go in all these different directions).
The only song that is a total classic in all
respects is ʽSupernautʼ, which has even managed to draw praise from Frank Zappa
(one of the least likely persons you'd expect to go wild about a band like
Black Sabbath). Its riff actually feels as if it should be played on a fiddle —
there's a distinct Celtic folk dance flavor to it — but the psychedelic effect
is even more strongly enhanced by Geezer's bass «zoops» on the verses, which go
along pretty well with Ozzy's stated intention "to reach out and touch the
sky". Throw in the mad percussion romp in the middle and the disorienting
multi-layer solo guitar wobble overdubs, and the song becomes an exuberant
celebration of self-exaltation, or something like that. As heavy as the riff
is, ʽSupernautʼ is one of the happiest and proudest anthems in the band's
history...
...but it is quite telling that, once
ʽSupernautʼ finalizes Side A and you turn over the LP (well, that's how it used
to be, kids), ʽSnowblindʼ greets you with the flipside of that exuberance — it
doesn't have a particularly great riff to match ʽSupernautʼ's, but it has its
own doom-laden atmosphere. "What you get and what you see / Things that
don't come easily", Ozzy warns us from the outset, and pretty soon we get
to the midsection, which (maybe unintentionally, but who really knows?) borrows
some tragic coldness from the Beatles' ʽShe's So Heavyʼ with fantastic results:
when Ozzy begins his "My eyes are blind but I can see..." part, it is
not only the most touching moment on the entire album, but it is the first time
ever that they have allowed to open the door to a bit of depressed sentimentalism,
and it totally works — just a couple minutes ago, you were sharing the band's
happiness, and now they work you up to share their despair. No contradiction
there, either — heavy use of cocaine has its ups and downs.
To be perfectly accurate, depressed
sentimentalism is all over ʽChangesʼ, which comes before ʽSnowblindʼ and, in
defiance of the formulaic Sabbath image, is a soft piano ballad decorated with
some Mellotron atmospherics in the background. But even though it was inspired
by a real life event (Bill Ward's breakup with his wife), it is way too clichéd
lyrically and too trivial melodically to qualify for heart-touching genius.
It's not as if Ozzy cannot sing a romantic ballad (it might have come as a
shock back in 1972, but he's done plenty of them quite convincingly since then)
— it's just that, as a first-time experiment, the song feels about as stiff as
the Rolling Stones' ʽTell Meʼ from 1964 (maybe even stiffer, since «formulaic
sentimentalism» by the standards of 1972 would be judged far more sternly than
by the standards of 1964). Some reviewer went as far as to call ʽChangesʼ «the scariest
thing about the album», but at least I like the Mellotron touch.
All in all, I'd never rate Vol. 4 as being on par with its three predecessors, but for the
most part, it still works well enough to be consistently listenable. Even when
the «meat» of the song is only so-so, it can still redeem itself in other
respects — ʽWheels Of Confusionʼ, for instance, starts out fine with those
several bars of soulful soloing, and fades out equally nobly, with a moody
electric piano rhythm as the backdrop for another grand solo (which, by the
way, reflects Tony's impressive progress a lead guitar player — ironically,
the more his riff genius deteriorated, the better his knack for spirited
blues-rock improvisation seemed to become). ʽUnder The Sunʼ may be ripping off
Deep Purple, but its coda still manages to supply a properly bombastic,
decisive conclusion to the album. A «transitional» effort, for sure — closing
the book on the first chapter of the Sabbath story and already opening it on
the second, «artsy» one — but still, at the very least, always intriguing and
interesting, and occasionally brilliant, so a thumbs up is fully guaranteed even
despite all the criticism.
One thing's for sure: Black Sabbath had the consistent honor of "Worst Album Cover Art From A Major 70's Act". Apart from the 1st album, which was rather nice, it was one slapdash abomination after another. Going the Hipgnosis route improved things somewhat at the end of the decade, but nothing will erase the putrid tableaux of "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath". Yuck!
ReplyDeleteI'd say that Sabbath Bloody Sabbath actually had some of their better artwork - artistically horrid, of course, but at least painted with some skill. Certainly well above the child's-Halloween-costume "knight" on Paranoid or whatever the HELL is going on with Sabotage. Funny that the official excuse for Sabotage's cover is that the band thought it was a rehearsal shoot - that would mean that those ridiculous getups were their "normal" clothes, which arguably makes things even worse!
DeleteThe Master of Reality artwork is kickass. There isn't a better possible illustration of that album's crushing, sinking heaviness.
Delete"Riff-wise, Tony seems to be temporarily short on great ideas. "
ReplyDeleteWhich for me, as I already wrote, in an unsurmountable obstacle.
"The only song that is a total classic in all respects is ʽSupernautʼ,"
Sure it is. It is essentially a rewrite of Paranoid - and hence failed to chart. So what? The two riffs are A-quality and manage to inspire Ozzy. The rhythm section shows no mercy. The solo at the end is good enough. Hence it qualifies for my personal compilaties with flying colours.
Of course Paranoid has been played by strings as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQ7p8K2fnVE
I dunno, I think "Cornucopia" kicks major ass. I like the tone Iommi uses at the beginning; it sounds like his guitar has a severe stomach-ache and its desperately trying not to throw up.
ReplyDeleteI checked out what George said about the mid-section of "Under the Sun" and it's "Flight of the Rat", spot on. The vocal melody of that same section has always seemed like something familiar and poppy. I delved about and found that the verse melody of "Western Union" by the Five Americans is damn close. I'm glad George gave Vol 4 a thumbs up, even if it is the weakest of the first four, maybe six, albums. I'd also like to put in that I've always been keen on "St. Vitus dance". It's cool, damn it.
ReplyDelete