“There is nobody bigger”: The artist Geezer Butler called the legend of rock
The explosiveness of heavy metal sometimes makes it easy to forget that it was never really a unique, standalone concept. Black Sabbath, in particular, might have done everything in their power to make it feel that way, but in reality, it stemmed from the very place nearly all rock offshoots learned their tricks—1950s rock ‘n’ roll. According to Geezer Butler, only one originator from this era deserves attention.
In 1982, Ozzy Osbourne delivered one of his typically provocative remarks and said, “All I am is a conductor of mayhem”. A status he lived up to in spades, Osbourne led Black Sabbath through the sticky wilderness of a sea of tie-dye and peace signs, quashing any remaining pretence of the hollow core of flower power and introducing a new, disillusioned kind of mania that many felt was long overdue.
Beneath the indisputable musical excellence, Sabbath was always all about the chaos. A beast that ran on the flames of every societal crack and against any remaining notion of dignity, Sabbath thrived on the radicalisation of their own presence, taking shape as a sort of mystical entity that none other could match, despite predictions that one day, the fires would eventually burn out.
However, even then, when others entered the playing field and Sabbath was no longer the ultimate leader and far less the latest, shiniest thing, it never really felt like an ending. Perhaps this was because the band would remain a heady presence despite stepping back somewhat, or that the sounds of countless others would testify to the unwavering impact and standard set by Sabbath. Still, it also meant that beyond the prominence of the new birth of heavy metal existed the shadow of rock ‘n’ roll.
It’s understandable why 1950s rock ‘n’ roll is credited with sparking several distinctive subgenres of rock. While the most notable reason is its energetic and impassioned drive, which many viewed as a conduit for the kind of escapist fervour music was intended to achieve, many also emphasised the impact of melodic charm, blending the two characteristics in a way that made the music pulsate with purpose.
According to Geezer Butler, there was only one true leader of the ’50s rock ‘n’ roll movement, someone who was introduced to him early on and who followed him throughout his career, lurking like an unshakable presence throughout the varying twists and turns of Black Sabbath and beyond. Elvis Presley, for Butler and countless others, more than earned his title as the blueprint of rock.
“Elvis is the legend,” he told Rock Cellar. “I mean, my brothers loved Elvis, and so I’ve been listening to Elvis since 1957 when he first came out. Apart from the Beatles, there is nobody bigger than Elvis. To see him live, it’s like, here’s four kids from Aston and Birmingham coming over and getting to see him perform. Everybody in the band was really excited.”
Interestingly, or perhaps rather amusingly, Butler recalled one moment in particular when it seemed as though Presley might have been more of an anarchist than Sabbath could ever dream of, as evidenced by the moment he removed a police officer’s hat during the set. “We were amazed because there was all this police security in front of the stage and Elvis took one of the copper’s hats off and put it on,” he explained, adding, “We thought, just imagine if one of us did that, they’d probably get shot.”
Clearly, it wasn’t just the sounds that inspired Butler and countless other rock virtuosos. Beneath the excitement, he also carried the kind of rebellious flair that many looked up to, particularly in the heavy metal scene, when all bets were off when it came to messy antics on stage. For Butler, someone like Presley pushed boundaries in unexpected ways, reinstating the level of excitement that music had always needed.
