Black Sabbath's Supernaut, from their 1972 album Vol. 4, is less a song, more of a volcanic release of rhythm and riff. It delivers pure proto-metal ecstasy. From the moment Bill Ward's drums erupt into that hypnotic groove, you know you're on a crazy train that refuses to brake.
Tony Iommi's guitar riff - dry, jagged and endlessly infectious - is one of his finest. It buzzes like electricity surging through a steel mill. Underneath, Geezer Butler's bass coils and snaps, locking you into a pulse that feels like it was forged under pressure and cooled in blood.
And, of course, there's Ozzy. Ozzy Osbourne's vocals aren't the eerie howls of doom from earlier Sabbath records. Here, they're playful, defiant, manic. His voice rides the rhythm with fearless swagger, declaring, 'I want to reach out and touch the sky/ I want to touch the sun but I don't need to fly.' This is Icarus on bat wings.
'Supernaut' isn't just heavy - it grooves, it breathes, it celebrates. In the pantheon of Sabbath songs, this track stands especially tall: a gritty, glorious hymn to unfiltered freedom.
Tony Iommi's guitar riff - dry, jagged and endlessly infectious - is one of his finest. It buzzes like electricity surging through a steel mill. Underneath, Geezer Butler's bass coils and snaps, locking you into a pulse that feels like it was forged under pressure and cooled in blood.
And, of course, there's Ozzy. Ozzy Osbourne's vocals aren't the eerie howls of doom from earlier Sabbath records. Here, they're playful, defiant, manic. His voice rides the rhythm with fearless swagger, declaring, 'I want to reach out and touch the sky/ I want to touch the sun but I don't need to fly.' This is Icarus on bat wings.
'Supernaut' isn't just heavy - it grooves, it breathes, it celebrates. In the pantheon of Sabbath songs, this track stands especially tall: a gritty, glorious hymn to unfiltered freedom.
