There is perhaps no more unlikely group to change the course of music than Black Sabbath. Originally called the Pulka Tulk Blues Band, and later Earth, the working class quartet from Birmingham cut their teeth playing in blues clubs with a sound not unlike the blues rock of Cream.
But somewhere between forming and recording their first album, a series of events caused them to morph into one of the most ferocious and influential bands of all time. And while Black Sabbath still retains a lot of their blues jam tendencies, the nucleus of their legendary career—and heavy metal as a whole—is impossible to miss.
As the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus once said, “Change is the only constant in life.” He probably wasn’t talking about the artistic trajectory of musicians, but it’s certainly applicable. Every artist’s career is destined to change—whether by the continued growth of experimentation or the stagnation from repeating once-fresh formulas until they decay. And as artists change, their fans also change, and often in different directions. It seems to me that many fans usually follow an artist for three albums before they each move beyond one another.
I’ve spent much of my life trying to fight the idea that the “local” in “local bands” is a polite way of saying “bad.” After all, if they were any good, wouldn’t they have graduated from being local bands, right? We all know the universe unilaterally reward talent with notoriety to a proportional degree, right? Obviously, we know that’s absurd, but the idea persists.