As Henry Rollins says “You can only trust yourself and the first six Black Sabbath albums” I’d expand that to include at least the Heaven and Hell record but I digress. It’s undeniable how bulletproof the 70’s Sabbath catalog is, Vol. 4 being no exception. While not my absolute favorite of the catalog, it’s one of the best albums they ever made. Sabbath is so foundational to my musical upbringing, reviewing an album is akin to making pros and cons lists about my own genetic code. What I think about it is irrelevant. It’s in me all the way down to the core. The crushing groove of “Wheels of Confusion” starts the record off in true Sabbath form. It’s impossible not to rock out on the blistering solo/instrumental section dubbed “The Straightener”. Changes is such a simple yet underrated ballad. The way Ozzy delivers the message with his emotional vocals proves what range he had as an artist. The lyrical pendulum swinging from this wistful tune into the depths of cocaine madness on “Snowblind”; one of the heaviest songs of all time. You don’t have to be mired in 70s excess to feel Ozzy’s pain on this song. It’s raw, vulnerable, with his still beating heart pinned to his sleeve. The whole album is a masterclass in guitar work. From the monster riffs like “Supernaut” to the delicate arrangement of “Laguna Sunrise”; a tropical island doober jamboree. Lest we forget Bill Ward’s ripping drums of thunder on Under The Sun. Throw it on driving through the desert at top speed. You won’t regret it.

Hey There, Banthony Craptano here, the internets crappiest music nerd and todaaaaayy, we’ve got The Rise and Fall by Madness. The whole thing is available on YouTube for those interested. This record truly is a rise and fall. It had all the elements of something I should like. Esoteric arrangements, a fervent horn section and the sound of a band doing whatever the hell they want. It felt like a dish cooking on the stove with many great ingredients and yet, when I taste the stew, there’s so much happening at once, it becomes overbearing. There were moments throughout each song I enjoyed but overall, the front of the album plays out like a fever dream. An intoxi-faded night out on the town that keeps escalating. “Did I just talk to that random stranger about my 3rd grade pot collection?” You can’t quite remember what just happened as the brownout begins. Just when you think you’re maintaining, “Blue Skin Beast” clambers around the corner and flips your perception of time signatures upside down. We keep ascending up “Primrose Hill”. A song with some kind of haunted reminiscence of The Benefit of Mr. Kite if it was written for a Tim Burton Movie. The bender continues well into “Sunday Morning” (literally and figuratively). Just when you feel like you’re about to go completely mad, you stumble on ‘Our House’, the equivalent of finding a glowing neon Waffle House sign in the depths of your depravity. As soon the verse kicks in, it’s the audible sigh of relief. Smothered Hash browns are ordered, the coffee has arrived and the chain smoking 56 year old waitress calls you honey as she slides it over. Everything is going to be okay. New Delhi was the only one I skipped about 3/4’s of the way through. That was hot trash. For whatever reason, this album didn’t resonate with me but that’s okay. I mean, if I’m complaining that the band named Madness was too free form/experimental, who’s the real jackass here? It’s got remnants of Ian Dury, Sparks, The Beatles and the ska sound that Madness was founded on. It’s definitely worth a listen, albeit a fucking bizarre one. 3/5

It feels odd to review an album that’s so engrained in your psyche. As I said with Vol. 4 by Sabbath, it’s like reviewing my own genetic code. My opinion won’t change how rooted it is in the zeitgeist of what we call heavy music. There’s a reason why Sabbath remains so present 50 something years later. Why they still spawn so many disciples of their revelatory sound. Take away the nostalgia factor, the hype and what you’re supposed to feel about it. The reason why it still holds up is it could been recorded yesterday. Aside from the minutiae of the production of the record, some lyrical themes, it’s not wrapped to a particular time. Four broke ass dudes from a very rough part of England created a soundtrack to their environment. It wasn’t glamorous, it was raw, real and relatable to people around the world to this day. The craziest one of the bunch used his voice to rail against unjust wars, toxic skinhead culture and a myriad of other social ills that plagued people in his working class neighborhoods beyond the British Isle. This is a building block of rock.