Ozzy Forever: A Joyous VMA Tribute That Turned Grief Into Celebration
On a night charged with both reflection and exuberance, the 2025 MTV Video Music Awards transformed into a vibrant celebration of Ozzy Osbourne’s legacy—an electric mix of rock’s past and its future converging on one stage. Steven Tyler and Joe Perry brought their signature Aerosmith bravado, Yungblud injected raw youthful energy, and Nuno Bettencourt delivered virtuosic flair. Together they ignited a tribute that felt less like a farewell and more like a triumphant victory lap for the Prince of Darkness. With Ozzy having passed away just months earlier, on July 22, 2025, the moment carried profound gravity—but the atmosphere was jubilantly alive.
Before a note was struck, the emotional heart of the evening was laid bare: Jack Osbourne stepped forward alongside Ozzy’s four granddaughters—Pearl, Andy, Minnie, and Maple—all clad in Ozzy T-shirts. It transformed the arena into something resembling one big family living room—evoking the memory of a man who was beloved not only as a legend but as a father and grandfather.
Then the guitars roared. Yungblud kicked things off with the adrenaline-fueled “Crazy Train,” before seamlessly steering into a soulful rendition of “Changes.” The performance captured Ozzy’s full spectrum—the riff-driven frenzy to reflective softness—and carried the crowd on a wave built from memory and emotion.
The goosebumps-inducing high point came when Steven Tyler and Joe Perry took the stage to deliver “Mama, I’m Coming Home” in full-throttle, arena-wide sing-along glory. Yungblud rejoined them, and suddenly multiple generations fused into one soaring chorus. It wasn’t merely a cover—it felt like a vow that Ozzy’s anthems would continue to find new voices.
Anchoring the set was Adam Wakeman—Ozzy’s longtime keyboardist—whose piano parts echoed the emotional DNA of the original recordings, connecting past to present. On guitar, Bettencourt channeled both precision and passion, threading Randy Rhoads–style filigree with contemporary flair. The result bridged Sabbath origins, solo anthems, and modern attitude with seamless grace.
As the final chords faded, Yungblud grabbed the mic and delivered what felt like the anthem of the night: “Ozzy forever, man!” Those three words radiated everything this tribute stood for—turning grief into gratitude, and legacy into living passion. It was no farewell. It was a celebration—and a promise.
Bettencourt’s guitar shone like an offering—wrapping Randy’s intricate technique in bright polish, delivering fire with finesse. Meanwhile, Tyler and Perry brought that magnetic chemistry only they possess; Tyler’s soaring delivery imbued “Mama” with both longing and exuberance, while Perry’s tone balanced bite with warmth. Standing beside younger artists, they embodied rock as a torch passed forward—glowing, alive, and undimmed.
From the moment the amps turned on, the arena became part festival, part family gathering—phones raised, voices joined, strangers harmonizing. It was a rocking declaration: don’t just remember Ozzy—let’s carry him forward with unruly joy.
What made this tribute truly joyful was how it resisted being somber. Instead, it honored Ozzy in the way he lived—loudly, with a bit of mischief, letting the power of melody crack open the heart. Each song transition—from the locomotive momentum of “Crazy Train,” through the emotional pause of “Changes,” to the cathartic surge of “Mama”—felt meticulously curated to channel the emotional spectrum Ozzy embodied.
Yungblud’s presence carried special resonance. Ozzy had mentored him, even appearing in his 2022 music video; before Ozzy’s passing, he gifted Yungblud a custom necklace. In tribute, Yungblud promised to carry “Changes” in every performance henceforth—an unscripted vow that shone in his voice that night.
Bettencourt had previewed the set backstage as a “roof-raiser,” and he wasn’t kidding. If anything, the energy felt even more charged than expected. When the crowd left, many with voice cracks from singing, the mood still reverberated—not with grief, but with reverent joy.
Aerosmith’s part in the tribute conveyed deep kinship. After Ozzy’s passing, they’d posted a heartfelt tribute crediting him for transforming music. On stage, that respect was tangible—Tyler leaned into each phrase, Perry sculpted each chord, and their performance felt less like artists performing a song, and more like friends sharing a glass in song.
Choosing those three songs—“Crazy Train,” “Changes,” “Mama, I’m Coming Home”—was inspired. Each offered a different gate into Ozzy’s music: energy, reflection, and tenderness. It was a trio of emotional vistas, each seen through the lens of a different generation, all leading back to the same icon—towering, intimate, undiminished.
When the echoes faded, the room felt unified. People walked out smiling, humming, and sharing Ozzy memories—some newfound, some old. That final chord wasn’t an ending—it was an invitation to keep singing, keep celebrating, and keep Ozzy’s music alive wherever rock souls gather.
And as the crowd spilled into the night, the energy lingered. Fans swapped stories, new listeners texted friends the songs they’d discovered, and somewhere, a kid picked up a guitar inspired by what they’d just witnessed. If a tribute’s worth lies in how alive it makes the legacy feel, this one soared—loud, proud, and enduringly, joyfully Ozzy.
