Sunday Sabbath: "Fairies Wear Boots," from Paranoid (1970)

One instrumental piece leads into another as “Rat Salad” gives way to the intro to “Fairies Wear Boots,” sometimes referred to as “Jack the Stripper” and sometimes not on different releases of the album. Oddly, I’ve always thought the intro to the tune was a little over long, and I couldn’t wait to get to the swinging rhythm of “Fairies Wear Boots.”

Sunday Sabbath: "Rat Salad," from Paranoid (1970)

After the dark and dreary “Hand of Doom,” the instrumental “Rat Salad” provides, perhaps, a brief ray of light amongst the doom and gloom.

I’ve always felt that this tune had the feel of a jazz number. It’s still heavy, of course, but I could easily hear the distorted guitars rearranged for horns and a big band playing it with gusto. Iommi’s guitar solo kind of takes the shape of a horn solo in a jazz tune. Though I often hear people talk about the jazz influence on Sabbath, particularly in the drumming of Bill Ward, I don’t often hear it as clearly as I do on “Rat Salad.”

Sunday Sabbath: "Hand of Doom," from Paranoid (1970)

As much as I love the rest of the record, this may be my favorite song on Paranoid. I don’t know that there’s ever been a better song written about the power and hopelessness of drug addiction.

It starts out with that dark and mysterious bass lick from Geezer Butler, and as always, Bill Ward’s jazzy beats lock in perfectly with it to create the mood. Enter Ozzy, moaning out the lyrics in a delivery that’s perfect for the subject matter of the song. To my ears, it’s bleak, even by Black Sabbath standards, then we get the punctuating explosion of sound at the end of each verse, like a mini-climax – perhaps the brief hit of the drug hitting the subject’s veins that soon returns to the low of the original bass and vocal.

Sunday Sabbath: "Electric Funeral," from Paranoid (1970)

Today, we move on to side 2 of Paranoid. Yes, I’m dating myself, but “Electric Funeral” was the first song on side 2 for a long time for me before it became track 5.

And what a way to kick of the second half of this album. Tony Iommi delivers that huge, warbling wah-wah lick, another one of those instantly recognizable riffs. There’s something particularly sinister and ominous about this one, perfect for the lyrical content, a bleak picture of the aftermath of a nuclear war.

Sunday Sabbath: "Iron Man," from Paranoid (1970)

Is there a more important guitar riff in the history of heavy metal than the main riff from “Iron Man?” If there is, I certainly can’t think of it.

There’s also probably not a metal riff that’s more recognizable among people who are not fans of the music. Hum those first notes – duuum-duuum-dum-dum-dum – just about anywhere, and I’ll bet there’s someone standing around who can finish it.

Sunday Sabbath: "Planet Caravan," from Paranoid (1970)

If ever there’s been a soundtrack for the acid trip, it’s probably the third song from Paranoid – “Planet Caravan.” When Pantera covered it for their Far Beyond Driven album, they took that feel even further, creating a trippy animated video that suited the song well. As much as I liked Dimebag’s performance on that version, though, the original still rules.

Though we’d heard psychedelic sounds on the band’s first album, “Planet Caravan” was the first hint of it that we heard on Paranoid, but it’s a full dose.

Sunday Sabbath: "Paranoid," from Paranoid (1970)

As is often the case, it was one of Black Sabbath’s shortest and simplest songs that gave them their biggest hit.

“Paranoid” reached the Top 10 in the UK charts, the only Sabbath song to do so, and according to Bill Ward, it was a tune knocked out in less than half an hour to fill the album. Despite its last-minute nature, the song got traction on the charts, and before the record was released, the name of the album had been changed from War Pigs to Paranoid.

Sunday Sabbath: "War Pigs," from Paranoid (1970)

So now we’ve reached what is probably Sabbath’s most popular album, though in my opinion, not their best. That one’s coming a little later in the program. But Paranoid does contain more than its share of the band’s iconic songs – the title track, “Iron Man,” “Hand of Doom,” “Electric Funeral,” “Fairies Wear Boots,” and of course, album opener “War Pigs.”

Originally titled “Walpurgis” by writer Geezer Butler, that name was nixed by the record company as being too satanic for the time, resulting in the change to “War Pigs.” It’s a song that announces fairly quickly that Paranoid is going to perhaps be a little more aggressive than its predecessor.

Sunday Sabbath: "Warning," from Black Sabbath (1970)

And we close our journey through Sabbath’s debut album out with the second cover, “Warning,” originally performed by the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation.

Given what I’ve said about Sabbath’s rhythm section through the previous pieces in this series, “Warning” provides them with a great opportunity. The absolute coolest thing about the original version of this song is how the bass and drums lock together in a rumble of thunder. Bill Ward and Geezer Butler follow through on that, but there’s a little more inflection on what they do that makes it sound kind of, for lack of a better word, “bendy.”

Sunday Sabbath: "Sleeping Village," from Black Sabbath (1970)

Here’s where we get into some more tracking weirdness. In North America, we have a medley “Sleeping Village/A Bit of Finger/Warning,” while Europe splits into “Sleeping Village” and “Warning.” Europe wins again. Sure, it all kind of melds together, but for some reason, I’ve always preferred separate tracks to “slash”songs.

“Sleeping Village” is an interesting song, opening with an ominous acoustic guitar and, of all the strange instruments to choose, a boinging jaw/mouth harp. It’s not a particularly dark sounding instrument, but Sabbath manages to make it one. Ozzy’s moaning vocal delivery adds to the melancholy and dark mood of the song before Iommi cranks up the distortion to finish out the piece as an instrumental.

Sunday Sabbath: "Evil Woman," from Black Sabbath (1970)

After our detour to North America, we come back to Europe to pick up “Evil Woman,” the first of two covers that show up on that version of the album. This one was originally recorded by the Minneapolis based blues rock band Crow, but doesn’t appear on the American version.

Sunday Sabbath: "Wicked World," from Black Sabbath (1970)

Now we jump back to the North American version of Sabbath’s first album to pick up “Wicked World,” a song that didn’t appear on the European version, and to be honest, it’s one of the weaker tracks on the album.

The song starts with a jumping and jiving riff from Iommi that paired with Bill Ward’s drums has an almost jazzy feel. After a brief little jam session, it drops into the main riff of the song, which is OK at first, but gets a little old as the song goes on. Ozzy’s vocal delivery is also a little flat and tired for the most part.

Sunday Sabbath: "N.I.B." from Black Sabbath (1970)

Thumping bass solo from Geezer Butler? Check.

Mega-fucking riff from Tony Iommi? Check.

Sinister lyrics about the devil? Check.

Must be time for “N.I.B.”

Sunday Sabbath: "Behind the Wall of Sleep," from Black Sabbath (1970)

So here’s where things start to get a little sticky with this series, depending on which version of the album you have. The original European version has the third track as “Behind the Wall of Sleep.” The North American version that I grew up with jams this song and “N.I.B.” together as “Wasp/Behind the Wall of Sleep/Bassically/N.I.B.” I’m going with the European (at least for the next two tracks), because it makes way more sense.

Sunday Sabbath: "The Wizard," from Black Sabbath (1970)

If you’ve spent any time over at my book blog, you’ll know that I’m a complete fantasy geek, so it should come as no surprise that “The Wizard” is one of my favorite Sabbath tunes.

While the eponymous “Black Sabbath” announced the arrival of a new genre, “The Wizard” opens with a wistful harmonica that speaks to the band's blues roots. Of course, as Tony Iommi’s big, brooding guitar riffs come into play, the tone changes from wistful to angry. The combination of the guitar and harmonica riffs, though, are simply infectious, and when they combine there’s a certain sense of joy among the heaviness.

Sunday Sabbath: "Black Sabbath," from Black Sabbath (1970)

Welcome to the start of a new series taking a track-by-track look at the masters of heavy metal, Black Sabbath.

It’s only fitting that the series start with the eponymous track off their eponymous debut album, which for me, is the genesis of the genre of music that I dearly love.