Born John Michael Osbourne on December 3, 1948, in Birmingham, England, the world came to know him as Ozzy, the Prince of Darkness. But here’s the truth I learned firsthand: Ozzy wasn’t just a stage name. He was a character John created, and over time that character sometimes took over. When I interviewed him, I could see both sides sitting in front of me. There was John, a working‑class kid turned rock legend, funny and humble. And there was Ozzy, the wild, unpredictable showman who helped invent heavy metal and terrified parents across the globe.

The music that redefined rock

When Black Sabbath broke through in the early 1970s, their sound was unlike anything before it. As Ozzy told me during our conversation, the band’s transition from blues to heavy metal wasn’t a conscious master plan. He said guitarist Tony Iommi once pointed out how people paid good money to see scary movies, so they thought, why not make scary music? That simple idea birthed the riffs and haunting sound that defined a genre.

From there, the Ozzy character took control on stage. John Osbourne might have been a shy kid from Aston, but under the lights, Ozzy became a force of nature.

The myths and the man

Everyone knows the infamous stories: biting a dove’s head, the bat on stage, the decades of excess. But what made Ozzy different is that he never ran from the truth. He admitted it all. Fans forgave him because he never pretended to be something he wasn’t.

During our interview, I teased him about how he was still alive after all the drugs and chaos. He laughed and said, “I think I’m going to sell my body when I die to medical science. They might find some parking fines in there somewhere.” That was classic Ozzy. Self‑deprecating, outrageous, and somehow warm all at the same time.

He also admitted he’d always been drawn to darker themes, even as a kid growing up in post‑war Birmingham. “We used to play on bomb sites,” he told me, describing how he didn’t even realize as a boy what those ruins meant. The fascination with shadows wasn’t an act—it was part of who he was.

When the character took over

By the 2000s, The Osbournes gave the world a peek at both John and Ozzy. Viewers saw the Prince of Darkness yelling at the TV remote, stumbling through the kitchen, and swearing at his dogs. But they also saw John the dad, worried about giving his kids good advice and admitting parenthood was one of the hardest jobs in the world.

When I asked him about being seen as a good father, he paused and said, “Being a parent in my opinion is one of the hardest jobs in the world. You never know if you’re giving them good information or not.” That was John speaking, stripped of the Ozzy character.

The warmth behind the legend

For all the chaos, Ozzy had a side most didn’t expect. He told me about meeting Paul McCartney, calling him “very nice, very accommodating.” He lit up when talking about it. That was John, the fan who never stopped being amazed at the company he kept.

Others close to him have shared similar stories—offering kindness when no one asked, being generous with time and support. Those who knew him best saw beyond the wild man.

The farewell

On July 5, 2025, Ozzy performed what would become his final concert at Villa Park in Birmingham, raising millions for Parkinson’s and children’s charities. Seventeen days later, on July 22, he passed away at 76.

Birmingham gave him a send‑off on July 30 that felt more like a festival than a funeral. Streets filled with fans chanting his name, flashing devil horns, and singing along as a brass band played “Iron Man.” It was less about mourning and more about celebrating the life of a man who changed music forever. His family later held a small private service, as John had requested, because he never wanted a “mope‑fest.”

Why we’ll always love him

We love Ozzy because John Michael Osbourne gave us a character so unforgettable that it sometimes took over his own life. Because he told the truth about his flaws instead of hiding them. Because he blended chaos with kindness. And because even at the end, he reminded us that survival itself was his legacy.

When I asked him why people still cared after everything, he grinned and said:

“Because they know I never lied. I’m still that same lunatic. I just cleaned house a bit.”

That was Ozzy speaking. But John was right there too. And that’s why the world will always love him.