Evil Woman

Hey Zoo Freaks, it's your velvet-voiced Zoo Crew tuning in from the foggy fringes of THE ZOO, where the harvest moon's casting long shadows and the air's thick with midnight mysteries. We're delving into Black Sabbath's "Evil Woman" from their self-titled debut, that rumbling rumble from '70, and oh man, this one's a shadowy slice of blues-rock grit that almost got the boot from the band's own lore. Picture this: fresh off the assembly line in Birmingham's industrial haze, the Sabs—Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, and Bill—get strong-armed by their label Fontana into covering this Crow tune from '69, a minor U.S. hit penned by the Wiegand brothers about a real-life paternity trap, much like Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" but with more barroom bite. Tony Iommi spilled in interviews, "We didn’t want to do it—it was a cover by a remote band we’d never even heard of... But the record company said: ‘If you want us to release your album, then you’ve got to do this “Evil Woman.”'" It dropped as their very first single on January 6, 1970, backed with "Wicked World," but tanked without a chart ripple, so Vertigo yanked it for the U.S. pressing, swapping in the B-side to let the occult originals breathe. Fans on Reddit still chew over the what-ifs, one thread from last year pondering if a lost Dutch TV clip from May '70 exists of 'em howling it live—testimonies say yes, but no tape survives, leaving it a ghost in the machine. And get this: years later, the band parodied their disdain with an unreleased "Weevil Women" jam during Master of Reality sessions, a sludgy send-up that got shelved like a bad omen. It's raw, reluctant Sabbath gold, Zoo Freaks—like stumbling into a crossroads deal you didn't quite sign up for.

Now let's rewind the tape to the smoke-choked factories of Aston where four Brummie lads first hammered out their thunder, 'cause Black Sabbath didn't claw from the abyss overnight—they were forged in the fire of dead-end jobs and desperate dreams. Tony Iommi, born '48 with fingers that'd later lose tips to a steel press, started on plastic guitars in his dad's shed, gigging with Bill Ward in bluesy outfits like Mythology by '68, till a weed bust scattered 'em like pins. Ozzy Osbourne, that wild-eyed factory drone from a council flat, had flamed out of Rare Breed after one gig, slapping up a "Ozzy Zig Needs Gig" ad that snagged Geezer Butler—another sheet-metal survivor with a knack for bass and bleak poetry. The four converged in a smoky pub chat, dubbing themselves Polka Tulk Blues Band after Ozzy's mum's talc, jamming heavy blues in a six-piece haze with sax and slide, but slimmed to the core quartet by summer '68. Name flipped to Earth for a spell, touring horror flicks in a van, but after Geezer's spectral bedside vision of a purple figure sparked the title track—ripped from a Boris Karloff chiller—they rechristened Black Sabbath in '69, ditching the light for down-tuned doom. Manager Jim Simpson hawked demos to 30-odd labels, all slamming the door, till Tony Hall's £600 advance locked 'em into a one-day Regent Sound blaze, birthing the debut that cracked the U.K. Top 10. From Birmingham's black smoke to global gloom, they escaped the grind by inventing it anew—riffs like rivets, lyrics like laments, proving four mates from the Midlands could summon the storm.

If the sabbath's stirring your soul, Zoo Freaks, wander over to the official Black Sabbath site for archives that echo like empty mills—demos, docs, and that endless tour scroll. Link up on Facebook with over 11 million iron souls swapping relics and rally cries. No fresh Instagram lair these days, but thunder through the threads on @BlackSabbath on X, where the ghosts drop cryptic cues amid fan-forged fire. For your tribe, the Black Sabbath Online fan site is a vault of vinyl visions and bootleg brews since the '90s. Rally in the crypts on Facebook's Black Sabbath Fans group, a 100k-strong horde howling anthems, or join Facebook's Complete Black Sabbath for era-spanning epics. Dip into the r/blacksabbath subreddit for riff debates and rare reels that'll hook you harder than a hex. Stoke the pyre, tune the doom, and let's ride the riff till the crows call home, my twilight troopers.