Black Sabbath - Master of Reality

The opening cough is Iommi choking on a joint that Osbourne handed him during the session, and it sets the tone for a song that is unambiguous about its subject. The main riff is a descending figure in the downtuned guitars, and it lands on each note with enough weight to feel like a physical presence. The verse riff shifts the rhythm without changing the melodic contour, and the repetition becomes hypnotic rather than monotonous because Ward varies the drum pattern underneath. The song is five minutes of one idea, and it works because the idea is strong enough to carry the length. The lyrics are a straightforward ode to marijuana, with none of the ambiguity that characterized earlier Sabbath songs, and the directness matches the bluntness of the riff. The guitar solo is brief and serves the song rather than showboating, and the outro repeats the main riff until it fades. This is the clearest statement of the downtuned aesthetic, and it remains one of the most influential heavy metal songs ever recorded.

Butler's Catholic upbringing surfaces in lyrics that are pro-Christian, written in response to critics who accused the band of Satanism. The riff is faster than Sweet Leaf, with a galloping rhythm that gives the song more urgency, but the downtune is not present here, and the result is less crushing. The vocal melody is strong, and Osbourne handles the rapid phrasing in the verses with confidence. Iommi's synthesizer appears in the arrangement, adding texture without dominating the mix. The song was released as a single, and it is accessible enough to justify that choice, but it does not rank among the album's most enduring tracks. The lyrics are earnest to the point of being preachy, and the directness that works on Sweet Leaf feels heavy-handed here. The intro, titled The Elegy on some pressings, is a brief acoustic passage that sets up the heavier section, and it is one of the few moments where the band attempts a dynamic shift within a single track rather than across the sequencing.

A twenty-eight-second acoustic guitar figure that serves as a transition into Children of the Grave. It is pretty but too brief to develop into anything, and it functions as a palate cleanser rather than a standalone piece.

The fastest song on the album, driven by a galloping riff that Ward locks into with precision. The downtune returns here, and the combination of speed and weight gives the song a momentum that the slower tracks lack. The lyrics address war and the destruction of the planet, and the urgency of the subject matches the pace of the music. The verse riff is a descending figure that mirrors Sweet Leaf in structure but moves twice as fast, and the chorus shifts to a slower, heavier section that provides contrast. Ward's percussion work is prominent in the mix, with tambourine and other instruments adding texture to the arrangement. The song extends past five minutes, and the final minute is an instrumental coda titled The Haunting on some pressings, which repeats the main riff without adding new ideas. The song is one of the album's peaks, and it demonstrates that the downtuned sound could work at faster tempos. The coda is unnecessary, and the song would be tighter if it ended a minute earlier, but the core idea is strong enough to survive the padding.

A ninety-one-second acoustic guitar piece that Iommi composed, serving as an introduction to Lord of This World. It is pleasant and demonstrates that Iommi could handle quieter material, but it does not develop far enough to justify its inclusion as a separate track. The melody is simple and the performance is clean, but it feels like a sketch rather than a finished idea.

The downtune returns, but the riff is less memorable than those on Sweet Leaf or Children of the Grave. The song is built on a mid-tempo groove, and Ward's drumming keeps the rhythm steady, but the melodic contour of the main riff does not develop as compellingly as the other heavy tracks. The lyrics address themes of apocalypse and control, and they fit the mood of the music, but the song does not stand out in the way the album's best material does. The verse sections are solid, and the performance is tight, but the song feels like it is repeating ideas from earlier in the album without adding new dimensions. A studio outtake included on the deluxe edition features piano and slide guitar, which suggests the band was experimenting with the arrangement, but the final version is the most straightforward track on the record. It is not filler, but it is the weakest of the five major songs.

The album's ballad, with Iommi on flute and piano and Osbourne delivering a vocal that is more restrained than his usual style. The lyrics are melancholic, and the arrangement is sparse, with Ward adding sleigh bells for texture. The song is an experiment in dynamics, and it works as a counterpoint to the heaviness of the surrounding material, but the performance feels tentative, as if the band was not yet comfortable with this much space in the mix. A delay effect was added to Osbourne's vocal to double the track, and the result is a slight echo that softens the edges of the performance. The song is five minutes long, and it does not overstay its welcome, but it also does not reach the emotional weight that the arrangement promises. It is a successful detour, but not a standout.

The album's longest and most ambitious song, with a riff that is as heavy as anything Sabbath ever recorded. The downtune gives the main riff a crushing density, and the song moves through several sections, including a fast middle-eight that requires Osbourne to sing rapid-fire lyrics. Iommi has said that Osbourne struggled with the vocal, and the strain is audible, but the difficulty of the performance adds to the intensity of the song. Ward had trouble nailing the drum part, and the band recorded the song in multiple studios before they captured a take that worked. The final version is tight, but it feels fought for rather than effortless, and the heaviness of the riff carries the song even where the performance falters. The lyrics, written by Butler, address space travel and freedom, and they are more abstract than the direct imagery of Sweet Leaf or Children of the Grave. The song is over six minutes long, and it extends past the point where the riff has exhausted its possibilities, with the final minute repeating ideas without adding new development. The song would be stronger if it ended at the five-minute mark, but the core riff is among the best on the album, and the ambition of the arrangement makes it a peak despite the rough edges.