The story of Black Sabbath, as told by the man who wrote the lyrics to their biggest songs, is one of perseverance, innovation—and body fluids. At 74 years old, Terence “Geezer” Butler revels in sharing God’s honest truth, no matter how off-putting, volatile, or outright disgusting it may be. In his new memoir, Into the Void: From Birth to Black Sabbath, the band’s founding bassist outlines the accidental creation and evolution of heavy metal, decades of formative musicianship, and intimately brave details of his lifelong journey with depression and suicide ideation.
But in a book that effectively walks the line between retellings of rock-star lore and self-actualized perspective, it’s impossible to overlook the sheer volume of chaos Butler’s memory serves up. If doomsday finally arrives and the apocalypse leaves our Earth as a burning hellscape of rubble that’s only to be rediscovered later—with Butler’s writings somehow intact as the last remaining historical artifacts of metal—then future civilizations will understand that Black Sabbath and the genre were built on pure savagery. In 275 pages, Butler details a career of blood, sweat, and tears—and piss; we’re talking about so much piss. And shit. And vomit. And fire. And cocaine. And gratuitous violence.
“Well, I was trying to pick the more tasteful stories,” Butler says, chuckling.
