Welcome to the Deep Dive. We usually spend our
time on the show looking at, you know, these
really smooth rides to the top. Right. Flawless
execution stories. Yeah, exactly. Exploring how
brilliant strategies just execute perfectly.
But today's source material outlines the exact
opposite of a smooth ride. Oh, totally. It's
a mess. It really is. We are diving into a comprehensive
Wikipedia article detailing the chaotic, frustrating
and just wildly successful creation of Ozzy Osbourne.
1995 comeback album Osmosis. That's a fascinating
record. Right. So the mission for this deep dive
is to unpack exactly how an artist who supposedly
retires forever gets pulled right back into the
studio and then faces intense interference from
their record label. Not to mention the psychological
toll. Oh, literal psychological mind games during
production. Right. And somehow, despite all that,
comes out the other side with a massive commercial
triumph, even when the critics were, you know,
sharpening their knives. It is a remarkable sequence
of events. And before we get into the heavy metal
elements of the recording, it helps to set the
tone for what we're actually looking at here.
Yeah, set the stage for us. Well, this isn't
just a standard story about a rock star cutting
a record. It serves as a really fascinating case
study on the inherent conflict between creative
freedom, corporate control, and the obsessive
pursuit of perfection. That tension is just everywhere
in this story. Exactly. You don't necessarily
have to be a metal purist to appreciate the human
drama that unfolds when art and commerce collide
this violently in a recording studio. That collision
is exactly what makes us so compelling for you
to listen to. To really trace the fault lines,
we need to step back to the early 90s. 1991 specifically.
Right, 1991. Ozzy released No More Tears, which
was just a monumental, critical and commercial
peak. Following that, he announced he was done.
Completely done. Stepping away from the music
industry entirely, he even named his supporting
global run the No More Tours Tour. Which is hilarious.
It is. It was a very definitive public closing
of the book. Or so we thought. Which is a classic
maneuver in the entertainment industry. The grand
farewell creates an incredible sense of urgency
and finality. But usually... An artist lets that
retirement breathe for, I don't know, a decade
before reversing course. Yeah. In Ozzy's case,
the retirement barely lasted a long weekend in
industry time. By 1995, just a few short years
later, he is right back at it. gearing up for
osmosis. Right back in the grind. And it's a
very human thing, isn't it? If you've ever tried
to quit something, making a grand public declaration
that you're quitting forever, only to realize
you actually miss it. Or you realize the alternative
is just worse. Exactly. Yeah. And Ozzy's justification
for his return is refreshingly honest. He ended
up calling his comeback tour the Retirement Sucks
Tour. Such a great name. Kicking off in August
1995 down in Monterey in Mexico City, and when
pressed on why he was back so soon, he said,
and I quote, if you stayed at home day in and
day out for three years with your wife and a
house full of screaming kids, you'd want to get
back out on the road too. That is just brilliant.
You really have to appreciate the irony of it.
Going on a grueling heavy metal world tour was
essentially his dad retreat. Basically, yeah.
What's fascinating here is how that single quote
completely undercuts the terrifying gothic image
he spent decades building. Oh, totally. The whole
Prince of Darkness thing. Right. Ozzy's brand,
especially his solo career, relies heavily on
this deeply human, self -deprecating humor. It
sharply contrasts with the mythology. He isn't
claiming he returned because some dark muse called
to him from the abyss. He came back because he
was a stressed out father. Exactly. He desperately
needed to get out of the house. Yeah. That level
of transparency is rare, and it creates a very
genuine bond with the listener. They aren't just
looking up to an untouchable rock god. They're
commiserating with a guy who just wants some
peace and quiet. Yeah, precisely. Okay, let's
unpack this, because the journey from leaving
the chaotic house to actually delivering a finished
album was anything but peaceful. It was a disaster
at first. Let's look at the initial recording
sessions, which were ultimately aborted. Originally,
in early 1994, Ozzy headed out to Granny's House
recording studio in Reno, Nevada. A very different
vibe from Los Angeles or New York. Right. And
he was working with producer Michael Wagner,
who was a deeply trusted collaborator. Wagner
had actually mixed the previous smash hit, No
More Tears. So there's a proven track record
there. Exactly. And Ozzy had a very specific,
clear vision. He was in the room with bassist
Mikey Nez and drummer Randy Castillo, and their
intentional goal was to directly replicate the
sonic magic and the formula of No More Tears.
That makes a lot of sense from a creative standpoint.
standpoint. If you are stepping out of a highly
publicized retirement, the instinct is to return
to the exact formula that gave you your last
massive win. You want a sure thing. Right. You
want a comfortable, familiar environment with
musicians and producers who speak your language.
The label, however, saw it completely differently.
The source notes that the band had actually completed
seven songs in Reno. Seven songs. That's almost
the whole album. That is the bulk of a standard
90s rock album. But then Epic Records steps in
and they allegedly demand a total overhaul of
the production style. They did not want No More
Tears Part Two. They absolutely did not. So they
fired Michael Wagoner, essentially scrapped the
Reno sessions and brought in a completely different
producer named Michael Beinhorn to take over.
That intervention by Epic Records is the pivot
point for this entire era of Ozzy's career. You
have to consider the landscape of the music industry
in 94, 95. Key grunge era. Exactly. This was
the absolute zenith of grunge and alternative
rock. The slick, traditional heavy metal sound
of the late 80s and early 90s was suddenly viewed
by executives as a commercial liability. They
were terrified of sounding old. Epic Records
was terrified of releasing an album that sounded
dated. So it wasn't just a simple swapping of
personnel. It completely fractured the project's
foundation. What they had done was essentially
blown up. Just thrown out. Yeah. Some of the
tracks Wagner produced, like Perry Mason and
See You on the Other Side, had to be completely
re -recorded from scratch with Beinhorn. Which
is crazy to think about. And other tracks, like
Amy, were tossed aside and relegated to B -sides,
which, for anyone who used it just streaming
today, meant it was physically pushed to the
flip side of a cassette or CD single. Essentially
burying the song from the main album narrative.
Right. And a track called Slow Burn was just
left completely unreleased. It paints a stark
picture of the power dynamics at play. Imagine
doing all that intensive studio work, capturing
lightning in a bottle with your trusted team
and the executives walk in, declare it's the
wrong flavor for the current market, and hire
someone else to oversee your every move. It's
incredibly demoralizing. It completely changed
the trajectory of Osmosis. But with a new producer
came a whole new lineup of musicians. And here's
where it gets really interesting, because the
roster of talent brought in for these new sessions
is just staggering. Foundational pillars of rock.
We are talking absolute legends. Having Geezer
Butler back in the fold on rhythm was a massive
pull. Oh, absolutely. This is actually the first
and only Aussie solo album to feature the legendary
Black Sabbath bassist. Getting those two back
together creates an immediate gravity for the
fans. It grounds the whole project. Yeah. Then
you have Dean Castronovo stepping in on drums
and Zach Wild holding down the incredibly heavy
guitar riffs. But then they throw a total curveball
by bringing in Rick Wakeman. From yes. From the
progressive rock band, yes. He is brought in
to play the Mellotron on tracks like Perry Mason
and I Just Want You. The addition of Wegman is
such a specific, ambitious choice. For those
who might not be familiar, the Mellotron is this
fascinating early analog keyboard from the 1960s.
It's a very unique instrument. It plays back
actual tape loops of instruments to create a
very haunting, somewhat unstable orchestral sound.
Combining a progressive rock virtuoso playing
vintage tape loop keyboards with the cure heavy
metal foundation of Butler and Wild shows a clear
mandate. They wanted it to sound epic. They wanted
this album to sound massive and theatrical, not
just loud. The ambition was definitely there.
But speaking of virtuosos, there is a lingering
mystery surrounding the guitars on this album
that is just wild to think about. The Steve Vai
situation. We have to talk about the Steve Vai
saga. The source points out that guitar legend
Steve Vai actually wrote songs with Ozzy in 1994
during those early stages before everything got
upended. Right, before the label stepped in.
But in the final release, only one single track
from their collaboration, a song called My Little
Man, actually made it onto the track list. The
circumstances around his departure provide a
perfect window into how fragile these high -level
collaborations can be. Definitely. The official
public reasoning was that Vi left the project
due to a quote -unquote falling out with Osbourne.
However, Zach Wild maintains to this day that
everyone actually remained friends. So there
are conflicting stories. There are. But the truly
striking detail comes from a much more recent
perspective. In a 2023 interview, Steve Vai claimed
that he is actually sitting on a whole Ozzy album.
From this specific time period. It is staggering
to consider an entire fully written project from
two of the most recognizable figures in rock
just sitting on a tape reel or a hard drive in
a vault somewhere. It really encourages you to
think critically about the sheer volume of art
that the public never gets to experience. How
many incredible collaborations are locked away
forever. Probably hundreds. Sometimes it is due
to corporate mandates, like the Wagoner sessions
we just discussed, but often it is just the friction
of the creative process itself. Just personalities
clashing. You put two brilliant, uncompromising
artists in a room, and the chemistry might be
slightly off, or the pacing doesn't match, or
they simply have diverging visions for the final
product. Yeah, it doesn't always click. The fact
that a full album's worth of material exists
between Ozzy Osbourne and Steve Vai. and it was
simply buried highlights how much waste is built
into the pursuit of a perfect record so what
does this all mean for the actual recording process
once they finally locked in the new lineup and
got down to business with michael beinhorn well
It wasn't easy. No, the geography of the album
shifted dramatically. They abandoned the familiar
Reno setup and turned it into a globetrotting
affair. They recorded at Guillaume Tell Studios
in Paris, right track recording in Electric Lady
Studios in New York City, and Bearsville Studios
up in Woodstock. World -class facility. Top of
the line. But despite the change of scenery and
the amazing studios, the actual experience of
making the record was agonizing for the frontman.
Agonizing is putting it mildly. The descriptions
of those sessions sound deeply unpleasant. Unpleasant
to the point of breaking him. Ozzy absolutely
hated working with Beinhorn. I want to share
a quote from Ozzy from a 2001 interview that
perfectly captures the environment inside those
vocal booths. Please do. He said, After doing
Osmosis with Michael Beinhorn producing, I didn't
care if I never made another album again. There'd
be these fucking mind games. He'd have me singing
all day and then I'd get three quarters through
and he'd go, your voice sounds tired. Let's pick
it up tomorrow. And I knew that the next day
he'd go, your voice has changed. Let's start
again. That dynamic sounds like pure psychological
warfare. When you think about the physical mechanics
of heavy metal vocals, it is an athletic endeavor.
It's exhausting. It completely shreds the vocal
cords. To sing all day, give everything you have
to a track, and then have a producer constantly
moving the goalposts must be infuriating. Just
devastating for morale. Beinhorn was clearly
playing mind games to try and extract some perceived...
technically flawless take but in doing so he
completely alienated the artist exactly it broke
his spirit to have a legend who has been recording
since the late 1960s say that a single producer
made him not care if he ever made music again
that is a profound level of studio burnout it
really is if we connect this to the bigger picture
the broader reception of the album. You can actually
trace a direct line from Ozzy's misery in that
vocal booth to the mixed reaction Osmosis received
from music critics upon its release. The critics
really picked up on it. They were in many ways
hearing the exact same issues that Ozzy was complaining
about feeling. They picked up on the exhaustion
and the overproduction. They zeroed right in
on it. The source provides some fascinating examples
of the critical pushback. Stephen Thomas Erlewine,
writing for AllMusic, acknowledged that the guitar
work was impressive, but he noted the album completely
lacked any real evolution. Right. His sharpest
criticism, however, was aimed squarely at Beinhorn's
modern rock production style. The exact style
Epic Records demanded. Exactly. Erlewine pointed
out that while the music was technically hard
and loud, it ultimately sounded smooth and processed.
Wow. heavy metal record, smooth and processed
is a devastating critique. It's basically an
insult. It is the exact opposite of the raw,
dangerous energy that built Ozzy Osbourne's career.
When a producer forces an artist to do take after
take. Day after day, constantly stopping them
to fix minute imperfections, you inevitably scrub
away the human element. Oh, Zeus, the soul. The
grit, the spontaneity, and the emotion get polished
right out of the final mix. And all music wasn't
the only outlet noticing the cracks in the foundation.
Chuck Eddy from Entertainment Weekly gave the
album a flat C grade, and his assessment was
even more brutal. What did he say? He focused
on the incredibly long running times of the tracks
and claimed the album felt like a parody. of
a most overinflated opera. Ouch. So the critics
were clearly seeing the negative impact of all
this studio turmoil, the scrap sessions, and
the label's desperate demand for a specific micromanaged
sound. The critical consensus largely painted
it as a bloated project where the soul of the
music had been suffocated by the production techniques,
which brings us to the ultimate paradox of this
entire deep dive. It is a massive paradox because
when you stack up the evidence we've just discussed,
the aborted original sessions, the mind games
that made the artist want to quit the industry
and the prominent critics calling it an overinflated,
processed parody. The logical conclusion is that
the album was a catastrophic flop. Right. But
the reality defies all that logic. Osmosis was
a staggering commercial juggernaut. When it finally
hit shelves in October 1995, it shot straight
up to number four on the U .S. Billboard 200.
Number four. Number four. At that specific time
in his career, that was Ozzy Osbourne's highest
charting position ever. The disconnect between
the grueling artistic experience, the cynical
critical reception, and the actual consumer behavior
is just incredible. And the momentum didn't stop
in the U .S. It was a massive hit. hit globally.
It cracked the top 10 in Finland and Sweden.
It reached the top 30 in major markets like Germany,
New Zealand, and Norway. Global reach. In the
United States alone, the album was quickly certified
double platinum, moving over 2 million units.
Worldwide, the source notes that Billboard magazine
estimated sales in excess of 3 million copies.
Unbelievable. The singles dominated the airwaves
too. Perry Mason climbed to number three on the
mainstream rock songs chart while See you on
the other side. I just want to... You were also
major fixtures on rock radio. The people who
actually buy their records absolutely devoured
it. This raises an important question, and it
is something for you listening to really mull
over. What is the true measure of an album's
success? It's a tough question. Is it the artist's
happiness and feeling of creative fulfillment?
Because by that metric, Osmosis was a grueling
disaster that almost ended a legendary career.
Right. Is it critical acclaim? Reviewers largely
viewed it as a process bloated misstep? Or is
it the millions of fans buying the record, connecting
deeply with the songs, and cementing it as a
multi -platinum cornerstone of 90s rock? It's
the ultimate paradox of the record business.
Agonizing corporate micromanagement, producing
a raw, platinum -selling rebellion that the fans
embrace wholeheartedly. It's the multi -million
dollar question. It is endlessly fascinating
how three wildly different realities, the artist's
misery, the critic's disdain, and the fan's adoration
can exist at the exact same time around a single
piece of music. All at once. As we wrap up this
deep dive, let's look back at the chaotic timeline
of Osmosis. We started with a heavy metal icon
coming out of a very public retirement, partly
to escape the realities of domestic life. The
screaming kids? Right. We watched the label aggressively
intervene, firing a trusted producer and scrapping
perfectly good sessions out of a fear of sounding
dated. We explored the mystery of the unreleased
Steve Vai material still sitting in a vault.
We stepped inside the vocal booth to witness
the exhausting psychological warfare that drained...
the joy out of the recording process, and finally
we saw how that deeply flawed, critically panned
process somehow resulted in one of the biggest
commercial peaks of Ozzy Osbourne's entire solo
career. The whole saga perfectly captures the
beautiful, messy reality of how popular art is
manufactured. But there is one final detail from
our source material that offers a really provocative
thought to leave you with. Let's hear it. Let's
fast forward a bit. In 2002, the label decided
to remaster and reissue Osmosis. As is standard
practice to incentivize fans to buy an album
they already own, they dug into the archives
to include some bonus tracks. Standard reissue
stuff? Right. One of the tracks they dusted off
and added to this premium reissue was a song
called Whole World's Fallen Down. This track
was entirely unreleased during the 1995 album
cycle. It was a casualty of those original scrap
sessions before the label overhauled the project's
sound. And Amy, too, right? Yes, Amy was also
added. They actually went back and used the material
they originally rejected. Yeah. They did. And
so the thought I want to leave you with is this.
What does it say about the machinery of the music
industry that the very work a label fundamentally
rejects? The work that causes an artist immense
stress when it is thrown away is eventually dusted
off years later and repackaged to the public
as a valuable premium bonus. They sell it back
to you. It asks us to consider how the industry
ultimately commodifies its own historical errors.
They rejected the art when it didn't fit their
immediate mid -90s corporate strategy, but the
moment it acquired historical value, they packaged
it up and sold it right back to the very fans
they were originally trying to pivot away from.
It really makes you reconsider the concept of
the vault. Exactly. And who really benefits when
buried art finally sees the light of day? That
is a phenomenal point to end on. The label gets
the massive commercial hit they demanded in 95,
and then they turn around and sell the discarded
scraps for a profit seven years later. Brilliant
and ruthless. Brilliant and ruthless all at once.
Well, that is all the time we have for today.
Thank you so much for joining us on this deep
dive into the chaotic and bizarre world of Ozzy
Osbourne's Osmosis. We hope you gained a new
perspective, and we encourage you to keep questioning
the hidden stories, the boardroom decisions,
and the studio secrets behind the music you love.
Until next time.