I’ve always had a special fondness for Vol. 4. As I delved into Black Sabbath, the first three albums were the obvious canonical foundations of heavy metal. But Vol. 4, while not obscure, is the first Black Sabbath album where all of the songs are not foundational but additions to a masterful early catalog. In other words, it’s the first Black Sabbath music for fans wanting to dig deeper than the obvious hits and albums - and there are many rewards to be had here. The first thing that struck me about Vol. 4 when I first listened to it in the early 2000s was its production. For all of their magical status, Black Sabbath didn’t seem to get a break early on with production. 1973’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath was the best Black Sabbath ever sounded in the studio. By contrast, Vol. 4 feels like a step back in sound - as if they got demoted to a lesser studio even after Master of Reality. The sound is heavy, crunchy, and buzzy. Tony Iommi produced the album, and there are clearly limitations to his production talent at this juncture. However, like many things about Black Sabbath, the limitations lead to strengths. The unusual, crunchy sound gives the songs a heaviness that prefigures 1980s heavy metal. While Master of Reality established many metal subgenres, Vol. 4 extends the influence on doom metal, stoner metal, grunge, and hints of thrash metal throughout the 10 songs. There’s a weird feeling throughout the album of staying awake despite knowing you’re tired - the feeling of being buzzed at 3am in the morning with lights on and heavy metal music blaring. The opening, "Wheels of Confusion/The Straightener,” is one of my favorite, least appreciated Black Sabbath songs. It sets the tone with its almost numb, stiff opening riff that plods and plods. Then, the band - without increasing the tempo of the song - just digs deep and summons a heaviness to the riff that blows my mind. It’s like I can’t headbang hard enough, and Black Sabbath gets credit for blowing open yet another heavy metal door. Delightfully meandering onward, the song eventually transitions to the hypnotic “The Straightener” that takes us out to close the epic. There’s a focused, crushing, relentlessness here that, for me, features Black Sabbath at their most definitive.
Next, Black Sabbath slide in one of their best songs with "Tomorrow's Dream.” Everything about it is perfect. Killer riff, suspenseful stops and starts, and Ozzy’s tortured wail. There is also something a little deeper emotionally about the song compared to past efforts - both in the lyrics and Iommi’s atmospheric bridge. Yet, it’s also catchy and memorable like some of their more radio-friendly songs off Paranoid. While “Changes” may foreshadow the rise of heavy metal power ballads, it’s really not a good song and ruins the early momentum of Vol. 4. Purely relying on piano and strings to frame Ozzy’s voice, no matter how sincere, just doesn’t work. Yet, it’s beloved many years later, so what do I know? The album almost completely derails by following up “Changes” with “FX,” which is basically the band fucking around with sounds on Iommi’s guitar strings. Maybe this sounds cool a few times or if you’re high and jamming with friends, but it’s not well thought out. Thankfully, we next arrive at the crushingly great "Supernaut.” A wide range of artists from Trent Reznor to Frank Zappa appreciate this song, and for good reason. There’s something unique about how Black Sabbath approached this song. It’s a little more upbeat than usual while still retaining an insanely heavy riff and Ozzy’s screaming vocals. It may meander a few times but overall it’s one of Black Sabbath’s finest moments. Then...we come to "Snowblind.” This actually may be my favorite Black Sabbath song. It’s got everything I like about Black Sabbath - a heavy riff, and the plodding, the frenetic, the atmospheric, the melancholy, and the epic majesty of early 1970s heavy metal. I don’t care that it’s about cocaine - there’s something deeper about the music and Ozzy’s vocal delivery that reaches a higher plane. For me, this is Black Sabbath at their peak, where all of the magic came together perfectly. The song is stuffed and overflowing with inspiration and ideas, and it’s like the song itself can’t quite contain its magic.
It’s easy to neglect the final four songs, and I admit that many times I’ve listened to Vol. 4 up until “Snowblind” before turning it off. But while the songs may not match what came before, Black Sabbath continue to hint at the future. “Cornucopia” begins like an evil doom metal song from a 1980s or 1990s band before settling into yet another above average Sabbath song full of random tempo shifts and frenetic playing. The bridge feels like a glimpse into 1990s grunge metal and gives me goosebumps - but it’s over before it begins. "Laguna Sunrise" might pour it on a bit thick, but it’s a pleasant acoustic guitar interlude that works much better than “Changes” or “FX.” "St. Vitus' Dance" is average Sabbath by the numbers with nothing inspired or innovative about it. "Under the Sun/Every Day Comes and Goes" ends the album on an intriguing note. It opens like a Slayer song - envisioning late 1980s thrash. The main riff isn’t as heavy, but it’s up there, and the song finishes out the album on a good note. Despite my nitpicking, I love Vol. 4 because (maybe sadistically) I enjoy the moments when bands start to lose their original momentum and yet mastered a certain sound so well that they peak for a few more albums until they go down in flames or become a formulaic and watered down version of themselves. I listened to Vol. 4 a great deal during my final year of grad school, a time when I also felt like I was holding on for dear life. The simultaneous insane, OCD focus of the album coupled with the erratic diversity represented how my mind felt during late 2001 and early 2002 as I largely worked, isolated, in my apartment day after day. Because it wasn’t a well-known canonical Sabbath album, it felt like a unique soundtrack for that specific year and I even imagined my friends Dusty, Adam, and I playing similar, organic, from the basement music as I still contemplated maybe working with them on musical material. Yet, there’s also a farewell sadness to Vol. 4, one of those early signs that the original new car smell of youth was wearing off. I had been in school in some form for 20 years, and I was in my very last year. It was time to leave it behind, change up my life, and enter “tomorrow’s dream.” But to this day, Vol. 4 captures the dying, last days of my schooling youth - with the magic, buzz, inconsistency, and early momentum that all implies.