The summer festival schedule would not be complete without representation from the hard music realm, and there’s no one who can do it better than the Prince of Darkness himself, Ozzy Osbourne. As Ozzfest invaded the quiet town of Tinley Park, teens everywhere prepared themselves for severe heat, deafening sounds and the sight of many unattractive people in far too little clothing.
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Ozzfest 2006
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 Entertainment
 Art
First Midwest Bank Amphitheatre
Chicago, Ill.
July 16, 2006
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Our experiences at the 11th annual Ozzfest were focused on highlighting a few of the up-and-coming new bands on the tour, as well as the living legends like Zakk Wylde and Ozzy. So sit back and enjoy a little taste of the festival, as we apply aloe to our burns and try to wrap our minds around the “God bless you all!” wishes we received from the Prince of Darkness.
From the Deep South, Atlanta natives Norma Jean took the stage early and offered a 25 minute barrage of energetic metalcore, complete with the grace and civility of Southern gentility. By far the most youthful band on the tour, the band is just coming into their prime. Playing a mix of songs from their smash hit of last year, O’ God the Aftermath, and a sampling of new tracks from their forthcoming LP, Redeemer (out September 12th), Norma Jean used every minute of their short set to stand out in a festival of established hard music mainstays.
Even visual, the band was noticeably different. On stage, the band was joined by a second drummer who increased the rhythmic attacks by about 10 decibels. Also, instead of perfectly aligning the ridiculous amount of guitar and bass amps on stage, as most bands do, the band opted to make the stage look as if it was just hit by an onslaught of explosives. The aftermath, if you will, left amps randomly piled and damaged, giving the perfect visual accompaniment to their chaotic live performance.
Having never been to Ozzfest before, I assumed that the majority of the crowd would show up in full metal garb. Chokers, leather, zippers, black, black and more black. I was a little disappointed to find out that, in ninety-five degree heat, even the most dedicated Ozzfest-goers wore shorts. Not Bleeding Through, though. Lead singer Brian Schiepatti prowled around that stage in all black as if it was business as usual. The rest of the band followed suit. While the riffs were dead on, Schiapetti’s voice didn’t betray him for a second and keyboardist Marta was intriguing if not entirely necessary, I couldn’t find much in the music that set Bleeding Through apart from the rest. They put on a good show, though, and the crowd happily acquiesced to the constant demands for bigger and bigger circle pits.
The best way to describe Boston’s metal heroes, Unearth, is to say they are high school cheerleaders trapped in the bodies of a talented metal band. Or maybe, in an effort to not get beat up, rather than cheerleaders, WWE wrestlers. Their music is par for the course; heavy drums, thick vocals and impressive guitar work- nothing new, but they do it well. Where they succeeded at Ozzfest was to play to the crowd. As soon as I found myself spacing out in between guitar solos, the band, mostly rhythm guitarist Ken Susi, would offer a stunt to pull you back in. Some of these stunts included: downing a beer bong, having a roadie light a cigar mid-solo, around-the-body guitar spins, amp jumps, push-ups, Hulk Hogan-style crowd calls. The list goes on and on. Some of these spectacles did come off as cheesy. Yes, everyone knew what was coming near the end of the last song when Susi’s high-end 7-string Ibanez guitar was switched out for a Service Merchandiser Strat rip-off, but it didn’t matter. Unearth embodied a lot of the elements of live rock music that many bands avoid in fear of degrading their music. Loud music, destruction and having fun, honestly, isn’t this what rock and roll is all about?
There’s certainly something to be said for a band that doesn’t take itself too seriously. After opening with the intro from Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls”, Atreyu proceeded to not take itself too seriously for the rest of their set. There wore cutoff denim shorts and performed with ridiculously sharp guitars in a variety of fluorescent colors. Although I must say guitarists Travis Miguel and Dan Jacobs displayed some of the best guitar work I saw all day. Vocalist Alex Varkatzas knew exactly when to let the crowd do the singing. In short, Atreyu was having a good time. As a result, so was everyone else.
At the height of the heat, Zakk Wylde’s Black Label Society took the stage and brought with them a noticeable increase in excitement from the crowd, and in volume from the stage. Wylde is easily a legend in these arenas and received the royal treatment from the sound guys. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wylde had family in Naperville that he wanted to hear the show from their backyard.
There were two things I really enjoyed about Black Label Society. The first was the band’s focus on community. There’s a sense of family the band is striving for and constantly referred to the crowd as members of the Chicago chapter of the Black Label Society. Wylde introduced his touring band as other members of different chapters and it gave the crowd the sense they were all equals, almost as if anyone could be on stage playing at the next stop on the tour.
The other thing about BLS is that they don’t try to fool anyone, they are about one thing: Zakk Wylde soloing. They don’t try to hide the fact that their songs are simply backdrops for Wylde to show everyone a piece of heaven on six strings. There’s no messing around. They offer a few verses, a chorus here and there, and then it’s time to unleash the beast. And the beast is what everyone wants.
At times, the other members of the band would leave the stage in order to let Wylde completely showcase his guitar skills. This risky move would leave a normal, ego-motivated guitarist to look like that guy who goes into Guitar Center every Saturday to see which guitar goes best with his solo face, but not Zakk Wylde. It was seven minutes in Heaven. The band rejoined as everyone would come to their senses and the meeting of the Chicago chapter of the Black Label Society was adjourned.
When I first heard that Ozzy was playing at 4:00 PM on the second stage, I could only think of two plausible explanations. The first: The thousands of kids who show up at Ozzfest every year to smash each other to bits to the brutal metal onslaught of bands like Between the Buried and Me and Unearth are no longer interested in the slower and dare I say gentler offerings of Ozzy Osbourne. The second: This guy is in his sixties and 10:00 PM is just way past his bedtime.
I was wrong on both accounts. Not only did he draw the largest crowd the second stage had seen all day, but Ozzy (who is only fifty-seven, thank you very much) was as energetic as ever, even in ninety-five degree weather. Did he do “Crazy Train”? Yes. Did he do “Mama, I’m coming home”? Of Course. Did he close with “Paranoid”? Yes, and that alone was worth the cost of admission.
None of that matters, though. What matters is that this man has done more for heavy metal music than any other figure in history, and nobody forgot it for a second. When Ozzy told the crowd to put their hands in the air, they did it. When he started swaying his arms back and forth, they joined in. When he lovingly taunted the masses with cries of, “I can’t fucking hear you,” they put every ounce of energy they had left into making sure that he could. Why? Because no matter how old he gets, he’ll always be Ozzy. And whether he’s on main stage or second stage, his festival will remain the finest gathering of hard rock’s time tested favorites and those ready to take their place.
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