..:: audio-music dot info ::..


Main Page    The Desert Island    Copyright Notice
Aa Bb Cc Dd Ee Ff Gg Hh Ii Jj Kk Ll Mm Nn Oo Pp Qq Rr Ss Tt Uu Vv Ww Xx Yy Zz


Black Sabbath: Paranoid

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Artist: Black Sabbath
Title: Paranoid
Released: 1970.09.18
Label: Gimcastle Records
Time: 42:00
Producer(s): Rodger Bain
Appears with: Ozzy Osbourne
Category: Hard Rock
Rating: ********.. (8/10)
Media type: CD
Purchase date:  2003.02.03
Price in €: 9,99
Web address: www.black-sabbath.com




 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] War Pigs/Luke's Wall (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 7:55
[2] Paranoid (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 2:50
[3] Planet Caravan (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 4:30
[4] Iron Man (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 6:00
[5] Electric Funeral (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 4:50
[6] Hand of Doom (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 7:10
[7] Rat Salad (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 2:30
[8] Jack the Stripper/Fairies Wear Boots (Butler/Iommi/Osbourne/Ward) - 6:15

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


OZZY OSBOURNE - Vocals
TONY IOMMI - Guitar
TERRY "Geezer" BUTLER - Bass Guitar
BILL WARD - Drums

TONY ALLOM - Engineer
BRIAN HUMPHRIES - Engineer
KEEF - Design, Photography, Cover Design
RAY STAFF - Remastering
ROSS HALFIN - Additional Photography
CHRIS WALTER - Additional Photography
HUGH GILMOUR - Re-Issue Design, Booklet Notes

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1974 LP Warner Brothers WS4-1887
1992 CD Castle CA197
1987 CD Warner Brothers 2-3104
1987 CS Warner Brothers M5-3104
1996 CD Castle ESM302
2001 CD Castle 91004
2002 CD Victor 61711



Paranoid was not only Black Sabbath's most popular record (it was a number one smash in the U.K., and "Paranoid" and "Iron Man" both scraped the U.S. charts despite virtually nonexistent radio play), it also stands as one of the greatest and most influential heavy metal albums of all time. Paranoid refined Black Sabbath's signature sound — crushingly loud, minor-key dirges loosely based on heavy blues-rock — and applied it to a newly consistent set of songs with utterly memorable riffs, most of which now rank as all-time metal classics. Where the extended, multi-sectioned songs on the debut sometimes felt like aimless jams, their counterparts on Paranoid have been given focus and direction, lending an epic drama to now-standards like "War Pigs" and "Iron Man" (which sports one of the most immediately identifiable riffs in metal history). The subject matter is unrelentingly, obsessively dark, covering both supernatural/sci-fi horrors and the real-life traumas of death, war, nuclear annihilation, mental illness, drug hallucinations, and narcotic abuse. Yet Sabbath makes it totally convincing, thanks to the crawling, muddled bleakness and bad-trip depression evoked so frighteningly well by their music. Even the qualities that made critics deplore the album (and the group) for years increase the overall effect — the technical simplicity of Ozzy Osbourne's vocals and Tony Iommi's lead guitar vocabulary; the spots when the lyrics sink into melodrama or awkwardness; the lack of subtlety and the infrequent dynamic contrast. Everything adds up to more than the sum of its parts, as though the anxieties behind the music simply demanded that the band achieve catharsis by steamrolling everything in its path, including its own limitations. Monolithic and primally powerful, Paranoid defined the sound and style of heavy metal more than any other record in rock history.

Steve Huey - All-Music Guide, © 1992 - 2003 AEC One Stop Group, Inc.



They'd already shown the survivors of the summer of love just how easy it was to crush pastoral dreams under a slow-moving juggernaut of sludgy riffs and nightmarish visions, but with this 1970 disc, Black Sabbath put the icing on the cake -- or is that the lid on the coffin? Ozzy Osbourne's haunted, disaffected howl has never sounded more chilling than it does cutting through the thick layers of sonic cement his bandmates poured into classics like "Iron Man" and the still-creepy title track. Painted in shades that run the gamut from black to blacker to blackest -- fully imploding on the number-than-numb "Electric Funeral" -- Paranoid doesn't offer much in the way of variety. But if you're looking for sheer sonic sedation -- the old-fashioned kind, meted out by a sledgehammer-wielding stranger -- you can't do any better than this.

David Sprague - Barnes and Noble



Though most of Black Sabbath's classic material from this album ("War Pigs," "Iron Man," "Fairies Wear Boots," and the title track) can also be found on the collection We Sold Our Soul for Rock & Roll, Paranoid is essential for the completist. One of the best albums from one of the bands to define heavy metal, this album is chock-full of the best stuff from Sabbath's Osbourne years. (Where else will you be able to hear "Rat Salad?") The music isn't exactly complex, but it doesn't need to be; its importance lies in its evocative power, with which any teenager will be able to identify.

Genevieve Williams, Amazon.com essential recording



Obwohl das meiste klassische Black Sabbath-Material von diesem Album ("War Pigs", "Iron Man", "Fairies Wear Boots" und der Title Track) auch auf dem Sampler We Sold Our Souls For Rock & Roll zu finden ist, ist Paranoid dennoch für den Sammler unentbehrlich. Als eines der besten Alben von einer Band, die den Heavy Metal erfand, ist dieses Album gespickt mit dem Besten aus Sabbaths Osbournejahren (Wo sonst ist es möglich "Rat Salad" zu hören?). Die Musik ist nicht unbedingt komplex, aber dies ist auch nicht notwendig; ihre Bedeutung liegt in ihrer hervorgerufenen Power, mit der sich jeder Teenager identifizieren kann.

Genevieve Williams - Aus der Amazon.de-Redaktion



What the Critics Say...

Q Magazine (12/99, p.170): Included in Q Magazine's Best Gothic Albums Of All Time - "...[They] stamped their bombastic and doom-laden imprint on British rock forever..."

Vibe (12/99, p.162): Included in Vibe's 100 Essential Albums of the 20th Century



A young girl's voice. She is dressed in a nun's habit. The boy turns and faces her. She proffers a chalice of cervical exudate and he drinks from it. She gets down on her knees and elbows, como peros, and tosses the nun's hem above her posterior. On each naked buttock is the scrawled sign of Ashirikas; "Fuck me, Rolf." The boy whips out a 10" personal vibrator, adorned in waterproof acrylics with the image of the Nazarene. He intones the words "nuk Khensu tenten nebu" and approaches her intendant fundament...impletion...across the room the fresh corpse of an illegitimate hippie baby is dis-impaled from the ceremonial sword of Baph-omet. The myrrh is extinguished with the collected saliva of priests listening to tales of carnal abuse in warm, dark confessionals. The Shadaic numinae are chalked over with the mirrored sign of Ariael, the eleven rubies returned to the vessel of Dione. A dark, handsome youth with the physique of a Dionysos–eyes, though, glazed and cold–grasps the two-foot stem of an imported El-Douhab hookah by its hilt and shoves its tip, sans mouthpiece, into the dry, collapsed rectum of the dead hippie baby, pushes until thin rivulets of blood ooze from the nostrils and lips of the infant. The hookah's stem-tip surfaces and the suck-piece is restored. Those in the room gather about. One youth wears a mosaic-inlaid Aztec skull mask, ornamented with the symbols of Gnostic adoration. He fills the hookah bowl with black opium tars and a dash of Asthmador powders...in the corner of the room, clutching a smuggled police photo of Sharon Tate with her hacked-off tit crammed up her snatch, a lone boy masturbates slowly, moaning "tempora mutantur et nos muta-mur in illis."

No "flower children" they, the sinister emanation of a generation who only yesterday, it seems, were set on changing a world in the shadow of nuclear holocaust and overpopulation into a utopia of peace and love. They drop the knee of fealty before the Antichrist. They shoot "M" and they engage in group sex. No act is too depraved, no thought too bizarre as they plunge deeper and deeper into the realm of perversion, into the ultimate "trip" of their own self-fashioned Hell. Orgies, incest, drugs, homosexuality, necrophilia, public nose-picking, Satanism, even living sacrifice.

And this is their music. Although you may not enjoy its "message," although you may not enjoy a lead singer (Kip Treavor), who sounds like Keith Relf whining about the tampons stuck up his nostrils, you owe it to yourself as a person concerned with contemporary society or merely with the artistic underground of the youth movement in general to be aware of the "heavy" sounds of bubble-gum Satanism and if you see them live sometimes they undress a hippie girl.

NICK TOSCHES - RS 80
© Copyright 2002 RollingStone.com
 

 L y r i c s


WAR PIGS/LUKE'S WALL

Gen'rals gathered in their masses,
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction,
Sorcerer of death's construction
In the fields the bodies burning,
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind,
Poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh Lord Yeah!

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave thier role to the poor, yeah

Time will tell on their power minds,
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess,
Wait 'till their judgement day comes, yeah

Now in darkness world stops turning,
Ashes where the bodies burning
No more War Pigs have the power,
And as God has struck the hour
Day of judgement, God is calling
On their knees the war pigs crawling,
Begging mercies for their sins
Satan, laughing, spreads his wings
Oh Lord Yeah!


PARANOID

Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind
People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time

All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy,
Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify

Can you help me occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find,
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I can not feel and love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life, I wish I could but (it's/I'm) too late


PLANET CARAVAN

We sail through endless skies,
Stars shine like eyes,
the black night sighs
The moon in silver dreams
falls down in beams,
Light of the night
The earth, a purple blaze
of sapphire haze in orbit always

While down below the trees,
bathed in cool breeze,
Silver starlight breaks down from night
And so we pass on by
the crimson (eye / knife)
of great god Mars
as we travel the universe


IRON MAN

I am Iron Man!

Has he lost his mind?
Can he see or is he blind?
Can he walk at all
Or if he moves will he fall?
Is he 'live or dead?
(Has he / Icy) thoughts with in his head?
We'll just pass him there,
Why should we even care?

He was turned to steel
in the great magnetic field
When he traveled time
for the future of mankind

Nobody wants him;
He just stares at the world,
Planning his vengeance
that he will soon unfurl

Now the time is here
for Iron Man to spread fear,
Vengeance from the grave
kills the people he once saved

Nobody wants him;
They just turn their heads
Nobody helps him
now he has his revenge

Heavy boots of lead
drills his victims full of dread
Running as fast as they can,
Iron Man lives again


ELECTRIC FUNERAL

Reflex in the sky warn you you're gonna die
Storm comin' you better hide from the atomic tide
Flashes in the sky turns houses into sty
Turns people into clay, radiation minds decay

Robot minds of robot slaves lead them to atomic (grave/rage/rate)
Plastic flowers, melting sun, fading moon falls upon
dying world of radiation, victims of (man/mad) frustration,
burning globe of obscene fire, like electric funeral pyre

Buildings crashing down to what's cracking ground
[Rivers turned to wood]**, ice melting to flood
Earth lies in death bed, clouds cry for the dead
Terrifying rain, ease a burning pain

'lectric Fun'ral
'lectric Fun'ral
'lectric Fun'ral
Electric Fun'ral

And so in the sky shines the electric eye
Supernat'ral king, takes earth under his wing
Heaven's golden chorus sings, Hell's angels flap their wings
Evil souls fall to Hell, ever trapped in burning cell


HAND OF DOOM

What you you gonna do,
Time's caught up with you
Now you wait your turn,
You know there's no return
Take your written rules,
You join the other fools
Turn to something new,
Now it's killing you

First it was the bomb,
Vietnam napalm,
Disillusioning,
You push the needle in
From life you escape,
Reality(')s that (way/fade)
Colors in your mind satisfy in time

Oh you you know you must be blind,
To do such things like this,
To take the sleep that you don't know
You're giving Death a kiss
Poor little fool now

Your mind is full of pleasure,
Your BODY's looking ill
To you it's shallow leisure,
So drop the acid pill
Don't stop to think now

You're having a good time baby,
But that won't last,
Your mind's all full of things,
You're living too fast,
Go out enjoy yourself,
Don't bar it in
You need someone to help you
stick the needle in, yeah

Now you know the scene,
Your skin starts turnin' green
Your eyes no longer see life's reality
Push the needle in,
Face Death's sickly grin
Holes are in your skin,
Caused by deadly pin

Head starts spinning 'round,
You fall down to the ground
Feel your body heave,
Death's hand starts to weave
It's too late to turn,
You Don't want to learn
Price of life you hide,
Now You're gonna die


RAT SALAD

(Instrumental)


FAIRIES WEAR BOOTS

Goin' home late last night,
Suddenly I got a fright
Yeah, I looked through a window and surprise what I saw:
Fairy boots are dancin' with a dwarf
All Right Now!

Yeah Fairies wear boots, and you gotta believe me
Yeah, I saw it, I saw it I tell you no lies
Yeah Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
I saw it I saw it with my own two eyes
Woah Right Now!

Yeah Fairies wear boots, and you gotta believe me
Yeah, I saw it, I saw it I tell you no lies
Yeah Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
I saw it I saw it with my own two eyes
Alright Now!

So I went to the doctor, see what he could give me
He said, "Son, son you've gone too far,
" 'Cos smokin' an trippin' is all that you do." Yeah

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


Currently no Samples available!