More Than a Tribute: How Black Sabbitch’s “Unrest in the West” Reanimates the Spirit of Sabbath
On 7th November, I took my 15-year-old daughter to The Craufurd Arms in Wolverton to see Black Sabbitch, an all-woman Black Sabbath tribute act.
We were both blown away.
My kid is too young to have had a chance to see Black Sabbath live. I was lucky enough to see them twice; once at Download in 2016 with my stepson (I still have the T-shirt declaring it to be their ‘final ever show’, a claim that I knew was untrue when I bought it, as a round of Birmingham dates had already been announced at that point), and once in 2001, at the UK Ozzfest show at Milton Keynes Bowl (that show featured the irreplaceable Bill Ward behind the kit, and the sight of him battering the toms through the fills in War Pigs lingers long in the memory).
Ozzy had passed away before I became aware of the Sabbitch show, and as soon as I heard about it, it felt like a fitting way to pay tribute to the passing of a legend, and give my kid at least a taste of what an earth-shattering experience live Sabbath could be. And, absolutely, also so my daughter could see four women on stage making a mighty noise.
We were very much not disappointed. Opening with War Pigs (an absolutely baller move, air raid sirens rattling the dentures of the mostly elderly male crowd as the band took to the stage) and closing their encore with Paranoid, the setlist ranged across Sabbath’s genre-defining ouvre, taking in Electric Funeral, Hole In The Sky, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, Snowblind, and much more. It was a breathtaking display of confidence welded to raw talent and a fidelity to the source material that, for me, set a new bar in terms of what a live tribute band could sound like.
In an act of idiocy, I failed to pick up an advance copy of their new live CD, Unrest In The West, at the show, but happily the album has since been given a full digital release, and it’s been in heavy rotation at chez Power since. And I’m pleased to report that it’s an absolute belter; capturing a band on fire and in their element, keeping the Sabbath flame burning fierce and bright.
The band set the stall out early, opening with Wheels Of Confusion/The Straightener, an epic deep cut track from Vol. 4. This may be even more baller as a choice of opener than War Pigs was; the eight-minute runtime features a flurry of riffs, tempo changes and epic drum fills and solos abound, and the vocal isn’t messing around, either.
I really cannot emphasise enough how goddamn tight Black Sabbitch are; often, a live performance will up the tempo of a song, adrenaline pushing a band’s rhythm section into overdrive (and Sabbath wern’t immune to this; check out a back-to-back listen of Paranoid from the album followed by an early live cut, and you’ll immediately hear the amhptimine effect of the crowd on the live take). Sabbitch have none of that; they are locked into the groove, playing note perfect, transitions flawless… they even perfectly replicate the synth sounds from the lengthy outro.
There’s an extraordinary fidelity to the source material, but somehow the live energy, the sheer feat of the performance (along, I suppose, with the incredible raw power of the original songs), prevents any sense of sterility; rather, the songs feel alive with purpose, refreshed, reborn. It’s incredible.
As the second song, A National Acrobat (I mean, for crying out loud, they’re not pissing about, are they, in terms of song selection?) kicks in, I think at least some of how the band achieves the seemingly impossible trick of faithful reproduction (to give an idea how faithful, the running times of the Sabbath studio album version and this live track are within 2 or 3 seconds; allowing for crowd noise at the start and finish, functionally identical, in other words) without feeling like an empty retread is down to vocalist Alice Austin.
Like everyone else, she brings a fidelity to the source material that’s truly impressive, resisting any urge to improvise or extemporise, delivering a note-and-cadence-perfect performance. But… well, for starters, her voice is different from Ozzys; full where his is thin, and with an undercoat of gravel that occasionally comes out (the throaty, almost growl with which she delivers the ‘Haha!’ at the end of one of the lines in the second half of the song, or the high section on ‘you gotta believe me!’ is a great example of what I’m talking about).
Again, she’s got the range dead on throughout, nailing the low notes with confidence and power, and soaring through the higher parts with incredible confidence, and it’s always note-perfect in terms of the original Ozzy performances. But a combination of that fuller tone, occasionally deployed rough edge, and intelligent decisions when picking which line to take on the sections where Ozzy’s singing in harmony with himself (!) on the album tracks means she finds a way to make the songs her own without giving an inch on the uncompromising vision of the project (and props also to Emily Burton on guitar, whose backing vocal harmonies punch through brillantly on this track and throughout the performance).
The extraordinary clarity of the vocal (this has to be one of the best mixed live recordings I’ve ever heard) also foregrounds the lyrics, the conviction in the delivery, and the precision in the way the track is played by the other three, nailing the stop-start riffs perfectly, making me hear words I’ve known well for years with a newfound sense of understanding.
Such is the power of live performance.
After the adrenaline punch of the closing (though, again, in terms of timing, dead on with the album runtime), the harmonica heralds the arrival of The Wizard. Interestingly, it’s one of the few moments where the absolute fidelity to the source material cracks a little, with Austin not playing the ‘trill’ that Ozzy would affect on the highest note of the harmonica pattern.
A quick perusal of live footage suggests this is something the man himself backed away from doing in later years, though some 2005 Ozzfest footage has the trill present and correct – it may be an advanced harmonica technique that at some point was beyond him (it’s an instrument about which my own ignorance is almost total, to be clear). I mention it not because it’s a big deal, but because it isn’t, even remotely, and it stands out only because it’s the only time in the entire recording that anything like it happens.
The song also highlights the absolutely insane chops of Angie Scarpa on drums. People who have heard me talk about music for any length of time will no doubt be bored by now with my rhapsodising about Bill Ward, and my bug-eyed insistence that any Greatest Drummer Of All Time conversation cannot be taken seriously without his inclusion.
Still, it’s true. I’ve argued with Moon worshippers and Bohnam fanatics and Ullrich apologists until I’m bored with myself, but I stand by every fucking word; Ward has a mix of bombast and supernatural feel that is peerless… and unreplicatable. I loved seeing Sabbath in 2016 at Download, but I missed Wards’ loose-yet-tight, delicate-and-explosive touch at crucial moments. The guy taking his place was incredibly talented… but Ward, there’s a kind of magic at work in his fills.
Scarpa wisely doesn’t try to 100% replicate Ward’s approach… though there are moments on The Wizard, like when she hits the cowbell on one of the fills in exactly the Ward spot, that you‘d be forgiven for thinking so. No, what she does instead (and I have no idea how this is even possible) is inhabit the spirit of Ward’s free-flowing yet precise approach, finding a way through that’s faithful both to his feel and her own talent. She’s like this across the record, but The Wizard is an exemplar of the approach. It’s mesmerising.
A Hard Road from Never Say Die! Is next out of the gate. It’s a superb choice for this moment in the set, the rollocking rhythm and extended solos given space to shine, Austin’s vocal so powerfully on point through the descending verse patterns, and again, the depth of her tone punches the lyric home to great effect. Given their dark image, it’s easy to forget how uplifting Sabbath could be, and Sabbitch do a fantastic job bringing this song to life.
After a brief band introduction, guitarist Emily Burton lets rip with the monstrous opening riff for Lord Of This World, and when she’s joined by the rhythm section, I defy you not to start bobbing your head. It hardly seems fair that Sabbath not only invented heavy metal, but also remain maybe the best single band in the form, and yet here we are, and Lord Of This World really showcases why. An absolutely immense central riff, but also a five and a half minute song with movements, the riffs feeding into each other seamlessly.
Melanie Makaiwi on bass absolutely kills it, here, taking Geezer’s lead bass approach with thunder, underpinning Burton’s note-perfect riffs and solos, the gule holding the whole enterprise together. It’s such a delight to hear these songs played so well and mixed so clearly; you really can hear all the component parts. Extraordinary work for a live recording.
Hole In The Sky absolutely belts along; the rhythm section perfectly captures the pace of the original recording, Austin’s vocal absolutely soaring on the choruses, Scarpa and Makaiwi locked in, giving Burton space to bleed out the solos. I cannot overstate how incredible this performance is – ‘flawless’ is usually, in live music terms, something of a concern for me – generally, if I’m seeing a band live, I want a bit of grit, a sense of improvisation and risk – but somehow, Sabbitch render live flawless as an act of breathtaking artistry that makes me fall in love with songs I’ve known for decades like I’m hearing them fresh.
Children Of The Grave is a great example of what I’m talking about; from the second that dirty, driving riff kicks in, after the toms and bass guitar rumble intro, I’m right there, and when the vocal kicks in, I’m singing along in my head. It’s astonishing (and a little troubling) to reflect on just how evergreen Geezers’ lyrical concerns are in 2025, but they feel not just relevant but vital, in part because the live delivery has so much relentless energy. Simultaneously breathtaking, heartbreaking, and life-affirming (and Holy Mother of God, that guitar solo!).
The set closes out with Into The Void, another tour de force performance that pulls together all the elements that have made this album so brilliant; just check out the dropout tempo change from the introduction to the verse riff, how seamless the transition is, how hard Scarpa and Makaiwi hit their marks when they kick back in, how the richness of Austins voice claims the vocal (and how flawless her breath control is throughout this deceptively difficult lyric, an amost machine gun tempo through the verses requiring split seond timing to stay in full voice).
Or listen again to howimmense Burton’s playing is on the extended outro riff and solo, and how perfectly Makaiwi and Scarpa underpin the solo.
My only complaint is an entirely predictable one; I want more. It’s a brilliant collection of songs, and I can’t fault either the choices or the sequencing… but, you know, it’s Sabbath, and there ain’t much in the history of rock n roll that could hold a candle to the ten years they made music together. I think it’s both smart and ballsy to not include a single track from Paranoid…. But oh how much I want a live recording of this band taking on Hand of Doom (or Faries Wear Boots, which they played at the MK show).
Look, honestly, I’ve never had much time for tribute acts. But if you want to hear Sabbath tunes live now, a covers band is the only way that’s going to happen. So it’s absolutely thrilling to discover that Black Sabbitch are out there, absolutely burning up the stage, setting a bar I frankly didn’t think was achievable in terms of musicianship, talent, and sheer energy.
Their performances are a profound love note to one of the greatest bands to ever do it, and listening to Unrest In The West on a loop for the last couple of weeks has not just been a huge pleasure on its own terms; it’s actually deepened my love and appreciation for the source material. No mean feat, considering Sabbath’s totemic position in my musical pantheon.
I can’t recommend this album enough, especially to any Sabbath fan who’s been feeling the passing of Ozzy this year. I’ve found it refreshing, uplifting; restoring.
Giants still walk amongst us, and they make a mighty noise.
And if Black Sabbitch are playing anywhere within driving distance, do yourself a massive favour and be there. It’ll feed your soul.
KP
7/12/25
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