Black Sabbath — Vol. 4 (2021 Remaster)
Qobuz reissue review (February 2021)
Between October 1969 and May 1972 — a span of just over two and a half years — Black Sabbath recorded four albums, which both individually and collectively provided the cornerstones, foundations, and building blocks of heavy metal. That the band managed such studio productivity is, in and of itself, a miracle, given both their touring regimen and their prodigious drug intake. Even more remarkable is the amount of creative growth Black Sabbath underwent in that time period. The band captured on Vol. 4 is one that has definitively advanced the style they codified on their debut and also one that is clearly straining to find new modes of expression within that style. While not quite reaching the heights achieved on 1973’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, Vol. 4 is absolutely a more impressive album than any of the three that preceded it — faster, slower, heavier, more delicate, more brutal, more complex. It is, daresay, more mature. It’s also definitely more fueled by cocaine, and that powdery influence is hard to deny here; yes, of course, there’s “Snowblind,” and, yes, that was the album’s original title, but there’s also a peculiar clarity and concision to the material that was almost certainly brought about by the band’s heightened … attention. While earlier Sabbath jams could dawdle a bit aimlessly, the grooves here are tight and the riffs are as focused as they are chunky. Throughout Vol. 4, the band eases into their most effective elements and gets straight to business. On Black Sabbath, “Cornucopia” would have had a four-minute opening but here, after a brief, four-bar intro, it careens straight into a breathless, four-minute bash to the back of your skull. Even the album’s longest song is technically two pieces (“Wheels of Confusion/The Straightener”). Yes, things are more compositionally complex, but they are also more focused. That’s not to say that Sabbath is all cocaine-sparkly speed-jams here; to the contrary, Tony Iommi digs into some of his meatiest, doomiest riffs, complemented by intricate song structures. “Tomorrow’s Dream” may be the burliest song in the Ozzy-era Sabbath catalog and its bridge may be the most uplifting moment. It all comes together on two of the album’s most contrasting and iconic tracks — the mournful piano balladry of “Changes” and the hard-charging “Supernaut” — both of which are inventive, perfectly executed, and impossible to imagine on any of the previous Sabbath albums. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz
