TONY IOMMI PAYS HEARTFELT TRIBUTE TO OZZY OSBOURNE: “WE’VE LOST OUR BROTHER — THERE WON’T EVER BE ANOTHER LIKE HIM”
The world is still reeling from the death of Ozzy Osbourne, the legendary frontman of Black Sabbath and a cornerstone of rock and heavy metal. Now, Tony Iommi — Black Sabbath’s co-founder and guitarist — has broken his silence, delivering a heart-wrenching tribute to his friend, bandmate, and musical brother.
“I just can’t believe it!” Iommi wrote in a statement released just hours after the news broke. “My dear dear friend Ozzy has passed away only weeks after our show at Villa Park. It’s just such heartbreaking news that I can’t really find the words.”
The grief is raw — and understandably so. Iommi and Osbourne were more than just collaborators. They were childhood friends from the streets of Aston, Birmingham, who together created a genre. Black Sabbath wasn’t just a band — it was a movement, a sound that would come to define heavy metal for generations. And at the center of it all was the magnetic, chaotic, and soulful partnership between Iommi’s riffs and Ozzy’s unmistakable voice.
“Geezer, Bill and myself have lost our brother,” Iommi continued, referencing bassist Geezer Butler and drummer Bill Ward — the original lineup that made history together in 1968.
Ozzy’s death comes just weeks after a highly emotional final appearance with the band at Villa Park in their shared hometown. The show had been hailed by fans as both a reunion and a possible farewell, though no one expected it to be final in such a tragic and literal sense.
For Iommi, the loss is deeply personal. The pair weathered every imaginable storm together — drug abuse, breakups, comebacks, career reinventions, and more. Their relationship, at times strained, was always rooted in deep respect and brotherhood.
“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Iommi once said of Ozzy in a 2017 interview. “But he’s family. We made something nobody else did. And no matter what happens, that bond never goes away.”
Now, with Ozzy gone, that bond shifts from the present to the past — a living history now closed by death.
As tributes pour in from across the globe, Iommi’s words stand out for their simplicity and sincerity. No grand speeches. No overly polished eulogy. Just a friend trying to make sense of the unimaginable.
“There won’t ever be another like him,” Iommi said. “My thoughts go out to Sharon and all the Osbourne family. Rest in peace, Oz.”
Ozzy Osbourne’s death marks the end of an era not just for fans, but for the men who stood beside him onstage as the very pillars of a new kind of music. Together, Iommi, Osbourne, Butler, and Ward forged a dark, thunderous sound that inspired everything from Metallica to Nirvana, Slipknot to Soundgarden.
From the eerie tolling bells of their debut album to the driving force of Paranoid, Black Sabbath became the godfathers of heavy metal — and Ozzy’s voice was the haunted soul of it all. Tony’s guitar thundered beneath that voice, the two forever locked in an artistic dance that defined a genre.
Their story, marked by success and struggle, mirrored the best and worst of rock and roll. And through it all, Iommi remained the quiet anchor to Ozzy’s chaotic storm — the riff master behind the madness.
Now, without Ozzy, that silence is deafening.
Fans have flooded social media with video clips from their final Villa Park performance. Many are pointing to moments between Iommi and Osbourne on stage — a knowing glance, a shared grin, a lingering hug — that now take on a haunting new weight.
Black Sabbath was never just about sound. It was about survival. Brotherhood. Creation from pain. And Tony Iommi’s tribute reminds the world that even icons grieve.
Ozzy Osbourne is survived by his wife Sharon, children Aimee, Kelly, Jack, and Louis, and a legacy that will echo through the halls of rock history forever. But to Tony Iommi, he was something more: a friend. A brother. A kindred soul lost too soon.
And for those who grew up listening to their music — who found strength in their noise and shelter in their shadows — this moment is not just the end of a life. It’s the end of a sacred chapter in music itself.
