Daiana Feuer on September 20th, 2016

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There’s something funny about eating salad at a Black Sabbath concert. But that’s the Hollywood Bowl, the place you go and eat kale and crackers while you wait for a big show. And this show, announced two years ago as part of Black Sabbath’s final tour and last album, “The End,” certainly qualified as a big one.

While the venue filled with a sea of black T-shirts, attendees shared stories of their Sabbath-going histories. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen Black Sabbath sober. Remember California Jam in ’74?” Some of us could only imagine what those days were like while we sat there munching snacks from Trader Joe’s, but what we did get last night was a complete treat, all the hits, so many “I love you’s” from Ozzy Osbourne, who blew kisses from the stage between lyrics about Lucifer and his demons.

The band itself played gloriously. Osbourne may be the wild, notorious one, but bassist/lyricist Geezer Butler and guitarist Tony Iommi are living legends, who pioneered a sound that every heavy metal or stoner rock musician has wet their pants to and pulled their hair out trying to master at some point in their lives. What if Iommi hadn’t cut his fingers off on the last day of his factory job when he was a teenager? Then he wouldn’t have needed lighter strings or to tune down, and then Geezer wouldn’t have had to tune down, and then what would heavy metal be? And did you know Iommi used to make his own little thimbles out of bottle caps in the early days to cover his bony nubs? Oh, yes, it’s exciting to munch on music history.

Drummer Tommy Clufetos pounded the double-drum set with all the force his sweaty, shirtless body could propel, mastering his big drum solo like the Tarzan of darkness. Speaking of the dark, the band had a fifth member relegated to the shadows on the side of the stage. What was this wizard doing? Lots of things we weren’t allowed to see. This was weird, but it must be worth it to the man, who was eventually revealed to be Alex Wakeman, son of Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman (who played keys on 1973’s “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath,” by the way).

It was difficult to decide which qualified as the favorite song of the night. First, it was “Fairies Wear Boots,” then it was “Snow Blind,” as the audience participated in shouting “cocaine!,” but then “War Pigs” is so quintessential … not to disregard the greatness of “N.I.B.,” but then again “Iron Man” reached epic proportions and finally “Paranoid,” the encore, came punctuated by fireworks. Every single song was a favorite song of the night in the moment that it was happening, and the crowd agreed, going crazy each time they recognized the opening notes. They dutifully followed Ozzy’s commands to clap, and he demands a lot of clapping.

Most importantly, it was clear that everyone on stage was happy. They were smiling, Ozzy was bouncing and running in place as much as his decaying body would allow, thrusting his arms in the air in that signature demon-summoning stance, the sequins on his t-shirt glistening under the stage lights. Of course there were sloppy moments, a few slurred lyrics and missteps along the way. These guys are 70 years old and they’ve done more drugs than almost any human walking this earth. So is this “The End” for real? Ozzy said so, then he blew the crowd another kiss.