Vol. 4 is the fourth studio album by English rock band Black Sabbath, released in September 1972. It was the first album by Black Sabbath not produced by Rodger Bain; guitarist Tony Iommi assumed production duties. Patrick Meehan, the band’s then-manager, was listed as co-producer, though his actual involvement in the album’s production was minimal.
In June 1972, Black Sabbath began work on their fourth album at the Record Plant studios in Los Angeles.
“It’s the first album we’ve produced ourselves,” observed Ozzy Osbourne. “Previously we had Rodger Bain as a producer – and, although he’s very good, he didn’t really feel what the band was doing. It was a matter of communication. This time, we did it with Patrick, our manager, and I think we’re all very happy… It was great to work in an American studio.”[1]
The recording was plagued with problems, many due to substance abuse. In the studio, the band regularly had speaker boxes full of cocaine delivered.
Struggling to record “Cornucopia” after “sitting in the middle of the room, just doing drugs”,[3] Bill Ward feared that he was to be fired: “I hated the song, there were some patterns that were just horrible. I nailed it in the end, but the reaction I got was the cold shoulder from everybody. It was like ‘Well, just go home, you’re not being of any use right now.’ I felt like I’d blown it, I was about to get fired.”

According to the book How Black Was Our Sabbath, Ward “was always a drinker, but rarely appeared drunk. Retrospectively, that might have been a danger sign. Now, his self-control was clearly slipping.” Iommi claims in his autobiography that Ward almost died after a prank-gone-wrong during recording. The Bel Air mansion the band was renting belonged to John du Pont and the band found several spray cans of gold DuPont paint in a room of the house; finding Ward naked and unconscious after drinking heavily, they proceeded to cover the drummer in gold paint from head to toe. According to Sharon Osbourne’s memoirs, a Doberman at the mansion got into part of the band’s cocaine supply, laced with the baby laxative mannitol, and became ill from the effects of the drug.

The Vol. 4 sessions could be viewed as the point when the seeds were planted for the demise of Sabbath’s classic line-up. Bassist Geezer Butler told Guitar World in 2001: “The cocaine had set in. We went out to L.A. and got into a totally different lifestyle. Half the budget went on the coke and the other half went to seeing how long we could stay in the studio … We rented a house in Bel Air and the debauchery up there was just unbelievable.” In the same interview, Ward said: “Vol. 4 is a great album, but listening to it now, I can see it as a turning point for me, where the alcohol and drugs stopped being fun.” To Guitar World in 1992, Iommi admitted, “L.A. was a real distraction for us, and that album ended up sounding a bit strange. The people who were involved with the record really didn’t have a clue. They were all learning with us, and we didn’t know what we were doing either. The experimental stage we began with Master of Reality continued with Vol. 4, and we were trying to widen our sound and break out of the bag everyone had put us into.” In the liner notes to 1998’s Reunion, Iommi reflected, “By the time we got to Bel Air we were totally gone. It really was a case of wine, women and song, and we were doing more drugs than ever before.” In his memoir Iron Man: My Journey Through Heaven & Hell with Black Sabbath, the guitarist says, “Like Tony Montana in the movie Scarface: we’d put a big pile (of cocaine) on the table, carve it all up and then we’d all have a bit, well, quite a lot.”
In his autobiography I Am Ozzy, Osbourne speaks at length about the sessions: “In spite of all the arsing around, musically those few weeks in Bel Air were the strongest we’d ever been.” But he admits, “Eventually we started to wonder where the fuck all the coke was coming from … that coke was the whitest, purest, strongest stuff you could ever imagine. One sniff, and you were king of the universe.” Osbourne also recounts the band’s ongoing anxiety over the possibility of being busted, which worsened after they went to the cinema to see The French Connection (1971), about undercover New York City cops busting an international heroin-smuggling ring. “By the time the credits rolled,” Osbourne recalled, “I was hyperventilating.” In 2013, Butler admitted to Mojo magazine that heroin, too, had entered the picture: “We sniffed it, we never shot up … I didn’t realize how nuts things had gotten until I went home and the girl I was with didn’t recognize me.”
Vol. 4 saw Black Sabbath beginning to experiment with the heavy sound they had become known for. In June 2013 Mojo declared, “If booze and dope had helped fuel Sabbath’s earlier albums, Vol. 4 is their cocaine … Despite their spiraling addictions, musically Vol. 4 is another ambitious outing. The band’s heavy side remains intact on the likes of ‘Tomorrow’s Dream’, ‘Cornucopia’ and the seismic ‘Supernaut’ (a firm favorite of Frank Zappa, featuring Bill Ward’s soul-inspired breakdown), but the guitar intro on ‘St. Vitus Dance’ possesses a jaunty, Led Zeppelin-flavoured quality, while ‘Laguna Sunrise’ is an evocative neo-classical Iommi instrumental.” After being up all night and watching the sunrise at Laguna Beach, Iommi composed the song. In the studio, an orchestra accompanied Iommi’s guitar, although they refused to perform until their parts were properly written out. The same orchestra performed on “Snowblind”.

“Snowblind” is the band’s most obvious reference to cocaine, their drug of choice during this period. Snowblind was also the album’s working title, but Vertigo Records executives were reluctant to release an album with such an obvious drug reference. The liner notes thank “the great COKE-cola” and, in his autobiography, Osbourne notes, “Snowblind was one of Black Sabbath’s best-ever albums – although the record company wouldn’t let us keep the title, ‘cos in those days cocaine was a big deal, and they didn’t want the hassle of a controversy. We didn’t argue.”
Although most of the album is in the band’s trademark heavy style, some songs demonstrate a more sensitive approach. “Changes”, for example, written by Iommi with lyrics by Butler, is a piano ballad with mellotron. Iommi taught himself to play the piano after finding one in the ballroom of the Bel-Air mansion they were renting. It was on this piano that “Changes” was composed.[2] “Tony just sat down at the piano and came up with this beautiful riff,” Osbourne writes in his memoir. “I hummed a melody over the top, and Geezer wrote these heartbreaking lyrics about the break-up Bill was going through with his wife. I thought that was brilliant from the moment we recorded it.”

“FX” came about unexpectedly in the studio. After smoking hashish, the crucifix hanging from Iommi’s neck accidentally struck the strings of his guitar and the band took an interest in the odd sound produced. An echo effect was added and the band proceeded to hit the guitar with various objects to generate odd sound effects. Iommi calls the song “a total joke”.
Of “Wheels of Confusion”, Henry Rollins said: “It’s about alienation and being lost in the wheels of confusion, which is the way I find myself a lot of the time. Sabbath could be my favourite band. It’s the ultimate lonely man’s rock. There’s something about their music that’s so painful and yet so powerful.”
The album, Tony Iommi told Circus’s sister magazine Circus Raves, “was such a complete change – we felt we had jumped an album, really … We had tried to go too far.”
The album cover features a monochrome photograph of Ozzy Osbourne with hands raised throwing the peace sign, taken during a Black Sabbath concert. The album’s original release (on Vertigo in the UK, on Warner Bros. in the United States and on Nippon Phonogram in Japan) features a gatefold sleeve with a page glued into the middle. Each band member is given his own photo page, with the band on-stage at the Birmingham Town Hall (and photographed from behind) at the very centre.
Vol. 4 was released in September 1972, and while most critics of the era were dismissive of the album, it achieved gold status in less than a month, and was the band’s fourth consecutive release to sell one million copies in the United States. It reached number 13 on Billboard’s pop album chart and number 8 on the UK Albums Chart. The song “Tomorrow’s Dream” was released as a single but failed to chart. Following an extensive tour of the United States, the band toured Australia for the first time in 1973, and later Europe. (by wikipedia)

Vol. 4 is the point in Black Sabbath’s career where the band’s legendary drug consumption really starts to make itself felt. And it isn’t just in the lyrics, most of which are about the blurry line between reality and illusion. Vol. 4 has all the messiness of a heavy metal Exile on Main St., and if it lacks that album’s overall diversity, it does find Sabbath at their most musically varied, pushing to experiment amidst the drug-addled murk. As a result, there are some puzzling choices made here (not least of which is the inclusion of “FX”), and the album often contradicts itself. Ozzy Osbourne’s wail is becoming more powerful here, taking greater independence from Tony Iommi’s guitar riffs, yet his vocals are processed into a nearly textural element on much of side two. Parts of Vol. 4 are as ultra-heavy as Master of Reality, yet the band also takes its most blatant shots at accessibility to date — and then undercuts that very intent. The effectively concise “Tomorrow’s Dream” has a chorus that could almost be called radio-ready, were it not for the fact that it only appears once in the entire song. “St. Vitus Dance” is surprisingly upbeat, yet the distant-sounding vocals don’t really register. The notorious piano-and-Mellotron ballad “Changes” ultimately fails not because of its change-of-pace mood, but more for a raft of the most horrendously clichéd rhymes this side of “moon-June.”

Even the crushing “Supernaut” — perhaps the heaviest single track in the Sabbath catalog — sticks a funky, almost danceable acoustic breakdown smack in the middle. Besides “Supernaut,” the core of Vol. 4 lies in the midtempo cocaine ode “Snowblind,” which was originally slated to be the album’s title track until the record company got cold feet, and the multi-sectioned prog-leaning opener, “Wheels of Confusion.” The latter is one of Iommi’s most complex and impressive compositions, varying not only riffs but textures throughout its eight minutes. Many doom and stoner metal aficionados prize the second side of the album, where Osbourne’s vocals gradually fade further and further away into the murk, and Iommi’s guitar assumes center stage. The underrated “Cornucopia” strikes a better balance of those elements, but by the time “Under the Sun” closes the album, the lyrics are mostly lost under a mountain of memorable, contrasting riffery. Add all of this up, and Vol. 4 is a less cohesive effort than its two immediate predecessors, but is all the more fascinating for it. Die-hard fans sick of the standards come here next, and some end up counting this as their favorite Sabbath record for its eccentricities and for its embodiment of the band’s excesses. (by Steve Huey)

Personnel:
Geezer Butler (bass, mellotron)
Tony Iommi (guitar, piano, mellotron)
Ozzy Osbourne (vocals)
Bill Ward (drums, percussion)

Tracklist:
01. Wheels Of Confusion (including The Straightener) 8.12
02. Tomorrow’s Dream 3.09
03. Changes 4.43
04. FX (Instrumental) 1.40
05. Supernaut 4.44
06. Snowblind 5.28
7. “Cornucopia” 3:55 [26]
8. “Laguna Sunrise” (instrumental) 2:56
9. “St. Vitus Dance” 2:30
10. Under The Sun (including Every Day Comes And Goes) 5.53
Music written by Geezer Butler – Tony Iommi – Ozzy Osbourne – Bill Ward)
Lyrics: Geezer Butler.

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