Long Live the Man on the Silver Mountain

Today was a very sad day. The sun was shining, the air was on the warmer side with a just enough breeze and I took in some local culture with a Tigers teammate who asked if I wanted some company (more to follow on that tomorrow). After that, I had a nice workout with Brian and then he brought me back to his place for a delicious Denver omelet dinner. By all rights, today should have been a great day. However, it was still a very sad day. In the midst of all these pleasant things, something stuck with me, as I know it did with countless other music fans across the globe.

I awoke like any other day and shortly after checked my phone for emails and other messages I may have received overnight from friends and family back home. When I came across one such message this morning, my heart suddenly became very heavy and I spoke out loud very softly the word, "no." I was very saddened to learn that someone who had brought joy and inspiration to millions of fans and artists alike for over five decades lost his battle with cancer yesterday. Ronnie James Dio was sixty-seven.


RJD will be remembered by casual observers for two reasons. Reason number one is that he is credited with popularizing the "devil horns" hand gesture that is synonymous with both heavy music and also anything that might be considered 'metal' out there. Reason number two is that he is often only known of as being Ozzy Osbourne's "replacement" as frontman for the iconic forefathers of heavy metal, Black Sabbath. I am embarassed to say that when I first heard of him, that's all I took him for as well. However, as I would soon learn, both Dio and his career were so much more than these two labels could ever possibly describe.

In the summer of 2003, my good friend and NTD reader, David LoVerme and I purchased tickets to see one of our favorite groups in Worcester, MA. The band was Iron Maiden and they were joined by two other acts, each far more legendary than Dave and I would have probably assumed at the time. The first opener was Motörhead, fronted by the timeless Lemmy Kilmister (the man whose trademark moustache and sideburns combination I am currently sporting). We both knew a few of their numbers and were excited to see them. The second opener was Dio, RJD's own band, and Dave and I were less familiar with their works. We looked him up and soon learned the aforementioned two facts about his musical legacy (and that he would actually, on occasion, slay a mechanical dragon on stage). That was good enough for us and we were now casual Dio fans. This would quickly change upon seeing him live in concert.

RJD was diminutive fellow. Some sources list him at five feet, four inches tall. What he lacked in verticality though, he more than made up for in charisma and above even that, vocal might. When we saw him take the stage that night, I can still remember him as being the shiniest human being I had ever seen. He was dressed in a flowing tunic that appeared to be made of mylar, glistening brilliantly in the spotlight. After the crowd saluted his entrace, he and his bandmates started their performance and I could understand why he was met with such approval. He sang and he danced and he had a great time because he knew his audience was doing the same. This was his passion and I'm glad to have seen him do what he loved not just once at this particular venue, but again, four years later in 2007. At the time he was touring with Heaven & Hell, an incarnation of Black Sabbath that focused on the material made famous during Dio's tenure as lead singer. These songs are decidedly different from those popularized by Ozzy Osbourne, or any of the other half dozen singers in the group's history; they are consistent with Dio's lyrical themes of mystery, magic, defiance and the neverending battle between good and evil. The Heaven & Hell show was indeed a treat to behold, below is a link (sadly, a bit too aptly titled one, at that) that should help you understand where I'm coming from:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6VWlw884sE

Operatic. Thunderous. Soaring. Ferocious. Consistent. All of these adjectives have been used in the last day or so to describe Ronnie James Dio's vocal stylings. However, many of these words can also be used to describe his life and his career. Everyone who knew him fondly all stated the same. The following is a portion of a statement made by one of his former keyboardists, Jens Johansson, that I think sums things up quite appropriately:

"My time in Dio was simply one of the best times in my life. Ronnie was one of the best people I ever met, very different from the usual musicians and other suspects in this wretched industry. I think this is something you will hear over and over — you have heard it before he was gone, and you will also keep hearing it after he is gone. Quite simply, because it's the truth. And especially towards fans. "

Metallica drummer, Lars Ulrich, remembers, in a letter to Dio, what he meant to him as an inspiration, like he was to so many other current greats of the genre:

"In the fall of 1976, when you played your first show in Copenhagen, I was literally in the front row and the couple of times we made eye contact you made me feel like the most important person in the world. The news that you guys were staying in town on your day off somehow embedded itself in my brain and I made the pilgrimage to the Plaza Hotel to see if I could somehow grab a picture, an autograph, a moment, anything. A few hours later you came out and were so kind and caring ... pictures, autographs and a couple minutes of casual banter. I was on top of the world, inspired and ready for anything."

From his early days in the heavy blues group, Elf (where he also played bass), to his stint in the pioneering metal act, Rainbow and on through his years in Black Sabbath and as a solo artist, Ronnie James Dio stayed true to what he loved: his music, his sports (he was a big fan of the Yankees, having grown up in Upstate NY), his beliefs and most importantly, his fans. To have seen him twice in concert was a privilege and an honor. To have learned over time what he has meant to music has been a reward. I hope you might now be inclined to do the same. Long live Dio and as he, himself, would say, "Long live Rock n' Roll!"