The heavy metal legend had the monumental task of following up the most successful album of his career
Ozzy Osbourne’s seventh solo album, Ozzmosis, arrived on October 23–24, 1995 (UK/US) as a dramatic “un-retirement” after his 1992 No More Tours farewell, pairing the Prince of Darkness with producer Michael Beinhorn and a formidable studio band of Zakk Wylde on guitars, Geezer Butler on bass, and Deen Castronovo on drums. Recorded across Guillaume Tell in Paris and New York’s Right Track, Electric Lady, and Bearsville studios, the sessions emphasized a thick, contemporary heaviness—big low end, sculpted guitars, and plush keyboard beds—that set a darker, more reflective tone than 1991’s sleeker No More Tears. Beinhorn handled much of the keyboard programming himself, and prog legend Rick Wakeman added eerie Mellotron swells to “Perry Mason” and “I Just Want You,” subtle colors that deepen the album’s brooding atmosphere. The writing cast was unusually broad even by Ozzy standards: alongside Osbourne, Wylde, and Butler were Jim Vallance (“I Just Want You”), Lemmy Kilmister (“See You on the Other Side”), Steve Vai (“My Little Man”), and pop craftsmen Mark Hudson, Steve Dudas, Duane Baron, and John Purdell, which helped the record toggle convincingly between groaning riff-monoliths (“Thunder Underground,” “My Jekyll Doesn’t Hide”) and soaring power ballads (“Old L.A. Tonight,” “I Just Want You”).
The road to Ozzmosis was unusually twisty. In early 1994, Ozzy first developed new material with Steve Vai for a proposed collaboration sometimes referred to as “X-Ray”; those sessions were shelved by the label, with only “My Little Man” surviving onto the finished album. Before Beinhorn came aboard, Ozzy had even tracked a version of the record with Michael Wagener (who had mixed No More Tears) and a different lineup—including Mike Inez and Randy Castillo—only for Epic to pivot and request a new sonic direction. Several Wagener-era versions later surfaced officially (“See You on the Other Side” on 2005’s Prince of Darkness box; demos of “Perry Mason”), while B-sides from that period (“Aimee,” “Living With the Enemy”) trickled out and were partially folded into the 2002 reissue. Ozzy himself remembered the Beinhorn process as grueling—“mind games,” as he put it, with long vocal takes repeatedly restarted—though the results are unmistakably polished and potent.
Upon release, Ozzmosis gave Ozzy his then-highest U.S. chart placement, debuting at No. 4 on the Billboard 200 and ultimately earning RIAA double-platinum status (April 1999), with total sales widely reported above two million in the U.S. alone and more than three million worldwide. In the UK it peaked at No. 22. The record also logged top-ten or top-twenty placements across Finland, Sweden, Canada, Japan, and elsewhere, underscoring Ozzy’s mid-’90s global pull despite grunge/alt-rock headwinds. Singles performed well on rock radio and abroad: “Perry Mason” cracked No. 3 on Billboard’s Mainstream Rock chart and reached No. 23 on the UK Singles Chart; “See You on the Other Side” went to No. 5 Mainstream Rock; and “I Just Want You” hit No. 24 Mainstream Rock and No. 43 in the UK.
Critically, the album landed in “mixed” territory. Stephen Thomas Erlewine at AllMusic praised Wylde’s playing but argued that Beinhorn’s modern-rock sheen made the music sound “smooth and processed,” while Entertainment Weeklygraded it a C, quibbling with song lengths and melodrama. Retrospectives have split as well: some rank Ozzmosis middle-of-the-pack in the Ozzy canon for its pristine production and hookcraft; others hail its heft and melancholic bite as a natural extension of No Rest for the Wicked/No More Tears. What’s undeniable is its mood: Ozzy is reflective, even elegiac (“See You on the Other Side”), yet still feral when the riffs demand it (“Thunder Underground”). (Wikipedia)
The Ozzmosis cycle also delivered one of the most consequential live pivots in Osbourne history. Ozzy hit the road on the cheekily titled Retirement Sucks! Tour, kick-starting in Mexico in late August 1995 and stretching well into 1996. Although Wylde played on the album, he ceded the touring guitar slot to Joe Holmes after a well-publicized period of uncertainty as Zakk flirted with a possible Guns N’ Roses role; Holmes shouldered most of the Ozzmosis touring through 1996. Lineups around the run fluctuated—on various dates you might catch Geezer Butler or Mike Inez on bass, or Randy Castillo replacing Castronovo on drums—but the shows reasserted Ozzy’s arena dominance and refreshed his stage identity after the “farewell.” Most importantly, the period birthed Ozzfest: after Sharon Osbourne’s request to place Ozzy on Lollapalooza was rebuffed in 1996, the Osbournes staged a two-date metal gathering in Phoenix and Devore that October—tacked onto the Ozzmosis tour—which proved a smash and became an annual institution that reshaped heavy music in the late ’90s and 2000s.
Commercial highlights aside, Ozzmosis is rich in deep-cut lore. Beyond Wakeman’s Mellotron cameos, the album’s DNA bears traces of several “lost” paths: Beinhorn’s redo after the shelved Wagener production; the stray Wagener-era tracks later used as B-sides; and the Vai co-writes that mostly stayed in the vault (Vai has said he’s “sitting on a whole Ozzy album” from that period). The Japanese CD originally included the bonus track “Whole World’s Fallin’ Down,” and the 2002 remaster appended that tune plus “Aimee,” helping fans piece together the project’s sprawling evolution. Even the packaging carries a wink: the stark X-ray-themed imagery (shot by Rocky Schenck) puns on the title while suiting the songs’ meditations on mortality, denial, and duality—Ozzy staring himself down on the threshold between retirement and rebirth.
In hindsight, Ozzmosis stands as a hinge in Ozzy’s saga: a commercially muscular, radio-ready return that nonetheless sounds haunted, as if the singer were pushing forward with full awareness of the wear and tear behind him. Its success re-ignited his touring juggernaut and, via Ozzfest, minted a platform that would launch and sustain a generation of heavier acts. If the production polish divided critics, the songs endured—“Perry Mason,” “See You on the Other Side,” and “I Just Want You” became staples that traced Ozzy’s evolving balance of menace and melody well into the new century.