Change: A Tribute to Ozzy Osbourne by Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, and Iron Maiden
The world of rock and metal has always been built on raw emotion, defiant energy, and immortal legacy. Now, in an unprecedented collaboration, the titans of heavy metal—Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, and Iron Maiden—have come together for one purpose: to honor the life and legacy of Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness.
Titled Change, the tribute album is more than a collection of covers. It’s a sonic monument, a living requiem that channels the rage, sorrow, and celebration felt by generations of fans. Ozzy wasn’t just a musician—he was a force of nature, a cultural icon who defied boundaries and expectations, leaving behind a legacy steeped in chaos, beauty, and raw truth.
The concept of Change was born just weeks after news broke of Ozzy’s passing. Though the world had watched his health decline for years, the finality of it struck like thunder. Almost immediately, messages of grief and gratitude poured in from across the globe—artists, fans, and industry legends sharing how Ozzy’s music changed their lives. It wasn’t long before three of rock’s most iconic bands answered the call, determined to create something worthy of his myth.
James Hetfield, Axl Rose, and Bruce Dickinson—each a frontman who helped redefine the landscape of heavy music—met behind closed doors in Los Angeles. There were no managers, no label execs. Just the artists, the idea, and the unmistakable presence of Ozzy hanging in the air like smoke. That meeting sparked what would become Change—an album shaped by love, fury, and reflection.
—
TRACKLIST AND COLLABORATIONS
The album opens with a chilling rendition of “Mr. Crowley,” performed by Iron Maiden. Dickinson’s operatic wail takes the haunting classic to theatrical new heights, while the band’s signature galloping rhythm adds a triumphant dimension to the song’s occult mystique. “We wanted it to feel like Ozzy was summoning us,” said Maiden bassist Steve Harris. “And I think he did.”
Guns N’ Roses follows with a raw, blues-infused take on “Goodbye to Romance.” The band strips the original down to its emotional core, replacing synth textures with mournful slide guitar and a stripped-back drumbeat. Axl Rose’s trembling vocals—vulnerable, almost cracked—carry the pain of farewell with devastating sincerity. Slash closes the track with a guitar solo that feels like a cry into the void.
But it’s Metallica’s version of “Diary of a Madman” that truly anchors the album. The band leans into the darkness, reimagining the track as a cinematic epic. Lars Ulrich’s drums thunder like warhorses, while Hetfield’s voice growls with anguish and awe. “Ozzy was never afraid of madness,” Hetfield said in a recent interview. “He wore it like a crown. We wanted to honor that.”
Perhaps the most surprising track is the original song “Change,” a collaborative piece written by all three bands. The title is a nod not only to transformation but to Changes, one of Ozzy’s most beloved ballads. However, this song is not a cover. It is a brand-new creation—part elegy, part war cry—featuring Hetfield, Rose, and Dickinson trading verses. The chorus erupts into a choir of harmonized vocals, singing:
> “Change is the curse and the cure in the flame / We burn for the memory, not just the name / Shadows are falling, but we still remain / Screaming for Ozzy, screaming through Change.”
It’s the kind of track that doesn’t just echo Ozzy’s legacy—it extends it, threading his influence through the veins of those who carry the torch.
—
PRODUCTION AND PURPOSE
Change was produced over six months in a transcontinental effort that saw sessions in London, Nashville, Berlin, and São Paulo. Producers included Rick Rubin, Andrew Watt, and even Tony Iommi, who lent his guitar to a secret track—a stripped-down, acoustic version of “Solitude,” featuring Iommi and Hetfield alone in a room.
Beyond the music, the album serves a higher cause. A portion of the proceeds will go toward the Ozzy Osbourne Foundation, a nonprofit established in the wake of his death to support mental health and addiction recovery programs for musicians and youth. “Ozzy gave us more than music,” said Sharon Osbourne, who executive produced the album. “He gave us himself—unfiltered, unafraid. This album gives something back.”
—
A GLOBAL MOVEMENT
In the days leading up to the album’s release, fans across the world organized candlelight vigils and mass listening parties. From Tokyo to São Paulo, Oslo to Los Angeles, murals of Ozzy appeared overnight. A full moon was chosen as the release date—a subtle nod to the werewolf howl that introduced “Bark at the Moon.”
Critics have called Change “the most important rock collaboration of the decade,” but the album defies such simple classification. It’s not a greatest hits collection. It’s not a funeral. It’s a celebration of defiance, of love, and of the power of music to outlive even its most mortal messengers.
—
EPILOGUE: THE FINAL NOTE
As the final track fades—a reimagined “Mama, I’m Coming Home” sung by all three bands in harmony—the listener is left with silence, then a whisper: Ozzy’s voice, sampled from an old backstage recording.
> “They’ll never understand, will they? But we gave ‘em hell. And they loved it.”
And just like that, the Prince of Darkness speaks one last time—forever part of the noise, the memory, and the Change.
