If there’s one thing I’ll remember Black Sabbath for, it’s their monstrous, hypnotic riffs. Listening to their songs feels like a wave of sound crashing into you, enveloping you into a world of heavy distortion and occult ritualism. A wide range of influences shaped their sound, from rock and blues icons like Led Zeppelin and Howlin’ Wolf to their upbringing in the factory town of Birmingham in the United Kingdom, where guitarist Tony Iommi famously sliced his fingertips off in a machining accident. This event would later help to cultivate their signature doom sound, as Iommi learned to play with slackened strings and thimbles on his fingers. A great loss was felt in the metal community last summer with the passing of Black Sabbath’s frontman, Ozzy Osbourne. 

A fitting local memorial to their legacy was held via Into the Void: A Black Sabbath Tribute at Lee’s Palace on Friday, January 16th. Members of sixteen Toronto bands were reshuffled into five one-off groups to perform Black Sabbath’s first six albums—Black Sabbath through Sabotage—which are often considered their best. Outside, slush and snowfall mirrored the music’s bleak grandeur, like a scene out of Wuthering Heights. Inside, the event was put on by Project Nowhere, an artist-run collective now in its third year of hosting an annual self-titled October music festival. Proceeds went to the Will Munro Foundation, a charity providing financial assistance to LGBTQIA+ individuals with cancer living in Ontario. The show also paid homage to another loss in the music community: Michelle Puska, an integral member of Toronto’s local music scene who passed away from cancer in 2022. 

By the time I arrived, the debut album had already passed—blame the snow, or the excellent vermicelli at Nang Saigon across the street. I grabbed a seat along the left wall as the next band launched into material from Sabbath Bloody Sabbath and Sabotage. The singer from Burner was dressed like a doom-metal priest, complete with a black robe and oversized mirrored cross. He sang “Sabbra Cadabra” and “Hole in the Sky” from a mock pulpit with “Church of Black Sabbath” scrawled on black posterboard. The covers were faithful, if occasionally muddled by heavy vocal effects—not to say Ozzy was ever especially easy to understand.

Vol. 4 followed with a charismatic frontwoman channeling early ’70s Ozzy Osbourne through shaggy hair draped over a psychedelic jacket and adorned with a giant silver cross. She even put on a British accent, claiming the band was from Birmingham. Highlights included “Supernaut,” “Snowblind,” and a moving “Changes,” during which phone flashlights and real lighters from Toronto smokers lit the room. Her voice resonated throughout the venue, accentuated by a small vocal effects box which she tweaked throughout the set, and backed by a tight band that nailed Black Sabbath’s complex solos and riffs, cowbell included. 

Music from Master of Reality came next, opening with “Sweet Leaf.” The band, featuring members of The Motorists and Shiv and the Carvers, tore through renditions of “Children of the Grave” and “Into the Void.” The singer commanded the stage in a forest green velvet romper paired with a bright pink fringe straight out of the 1970s. Although she was sick, popping Ricolas mid-set, her voice remained strong, reverberating throughout the cavernous space of Lee’s Palace.

The final album of the night was Black Sabbath’s most prolific: Paranoid. Fortunately, the last band, comprised of members from Hot Garbage and Kali Horse, undoubtedly delivered. Starting with “War Pigs,” air-raid siren and all, the crowd grew rowdier, singing along and raising middle fingers during the song’s indictment of corrupt politicians – a message that sadly remains just as relevant today. They ripped through the album’s biggest songs—“Iron Man,” “Electric Funeral,” “Fairies Wear Boots”—with fervent energy and precision, leaving a breathless crowd screaming for an encore.

Despite its patchwork lineup, Into the Void felt remarkably cohesive. Tackling six different eras of Black Sabbath was no small feat for musicians who do not normally play together, and in spite of this, each group meshed seamlessly. Being too young to catch Black Sabbath’s final tour and missing Back to the Beginning this past July, I resigned myself to never seeing them live. This show, however, came close. Singing along with fellow concertgoers and feeling the thunderous riffs echo through me, I was offered a convincing semblance of the real thing. Beyond the music, concerts welcome us into communities of devoted fans, and at Into the Void that experience felt two-fold. It was a celebration of Black Sabbath, yes, but also of Toronto’s DIY scene, shining a light on promising local acts. In the wake of so much loss, of Ozzy Osbourne, of Michelle Puska, and of many the lives lost to cancer, Into the Void provided space for the local community to gather, grieve, and remember.

Here are playlists with music from the first six Black Sabbath albums and the local bands that covered them:

Black Sabbath:

Local Artists: