RONNIE James Dio – the small guy with the big voice – was a man of opposites.
The diminutive front man for hard rock outfits Rainbow, Black Sabbath and his very own Dio (not to mention others such as Elf and, latterly, Heaven & Hell), knew all about black and white, good and evil.
His lyrics are full of conflicts and contrasts, paired antonyms sprinkled generously throughout …
For instance, in Rainbow’s Man On The Silver Mountain:
I’m the day, I’m the day
I can show you the way
And look I’m right beside you
I’m the night, I’m the night
I’m the dark and the light …
And from The Last In Line (Dio):
We’ll know for the first time
If we’re evil or divine …
Two eyes from the east
It’s the angel or the beast
And the answer lies
between the good and bad
I (Black Sabbath):
I am virgin
I’m a whore
Giving nothing
The taker
The maker of war
And RJD came over all JRR (Tolkien) in Children Of The Sea (Sabbath):
We made the mountains shake with laughter as we played
Hiding in our corner of the world
Then we did the demon dance and rushed to nevermore
Threw away the key and locked the door …
I could go on and on and on … on and on and on … it’s Heaven And Hell!
That last number, the title song of his first album with Sabbath in 1980, pours it on:
Sing me a song, you’re a singer
Do me a wrong, you’re a bringer of evil
The Devil is never a maker
The less that you give, you’re a taker …
The lover of life’s not a sinner
The ending is just a beginner …
Well if it seems to be real, it’s illusion
For every moment of truth, there’s confusion in life …
And they’ll tell you black is really white
The moon is just the sun at night …
Put all that together and a certain modus operandi emerges, no? Which is not to say this very special lyricist/ vocalist was a one-note guy – there is depth there, and nuance, and some very interesting ideas and elements, not least in a particular mode of communication he regularly and flamboyantly utilised to enlighten and unite his many “followers”.
US-born Ronnie, you see, was one of the foremost exponents of the “sign of the horns” – a hand gesture he helped make popular among Heavy Metal fans … arm extended upwards, first and last fingers up, middle two fingers down and thumb in.
The symbol was, and is, known as the “devil horns”, although many now call it “Metal horns” and, in Dio’s hands at least, it was a symbol more of good than evil.
As he explained: “It’s NOT the devil’s sign, like ‘we’re here with the devil’. It’s a thing I got from my (Italian-American) grandmother called the Malocchio. It’s to ward off the Evil Eye or to give the Evil Eye, depending on which way you do it. It’s just a symbol but it had magical incantations and attitudes to it.”
I cry out for magic, I feel it dancing in the light …
(Rainbow In The Dark/ Dio)
If you haven’t dabbled in this “gesture”, give it a go – I always find it … well, empowering. And it’s even better when you throw caution to the winds and do both hands together (it’s difficult to type with your fingers like that, tho, it must be said).
Wiki will tell you the sign has many other meanings and interpretations, across the world and back through time. It’s even an emoji now. But for me it’s distinctly Dio, and definitely Metal.
Much more than a symbol or a sign, Metal is a state of mind (if not always a state of grace).
Metal gets under your skin, gives you a reason to stand up and shout – a certain way to look at the world, to lift a quizzical eyebrow and defiantly snap your answers to all life’s truly stoopid questions.
Hollywood blogger Jeff Wells said when Clint Eastwood turned 90 that Clint’s “acting was always mounted upon steely defiance and seething disdain — the squint, the snarl, the snippy retort”.
Eastwood, as far as I am aware, is no Metal fan – he’s more of a Jazz guy, of course. But Metal fans will recognise the defiance, the disdain … running the gauntlet on the way to the ultimate rejection of ludicrous “authority”.
Metal fans struggle home after a gig late night and struggle out to work next morning determined at last to emulate Eastwood’s Dirty Harry, to pack it all in, tell the idiots what you know to be right …
I think about closing the door
And lately I think about it more …
(Falling Off The Edge Of The World/ Sabbath)
… but knowing deeper down still it’s all part of the journey, all part of the mission, even as your badge skips across the water for the thousandth time and the Scorpio killer spirals in the water, slipping away into oblivion, a muddy crimson stain to mark his passing.
Bring on the bullshit. But do you feel lucky?
Another Metal Movie, for me, is Stanley Kubrick’s Vietnam War drama Full Metal Jacket, especially when a commanding officer asks Private Joker (Matthew Modine): “You write ‘Born to Kill’ on your helmet and you wear a peace button. What’s that supposed to be, some kind of sick joke?”
Joker is explicitly warned of the seriousness of the situation (“Now answer my question or you’ll be standing tall before the man!”) before simply replying: “I think I was trying to suggest something about the duality of man, sir!”
Metal suggests something about the duality of man. Dio suggests something about the duality of man. The devil horns/ Metal horns suggest something about the duality of man.
Dio knew about the light and the dark. The colour and the shape. It may have been Richie Blackmore’s Rainbow – the Somerset guitar maestro as eponymous as he was ubiquitous in any debate or discussion involving top, top axemen – but it was Dio’s Catch The Rainbow, Rainbow Eyes and Rainbow In The Dark … his lyrics, his vocals, made them shimmer and shine, no matter what it said on the tin, “Rainbow” or “Dio”.
The rainbow, the arching, multi-coloured, many splendoured thing, added shade and tone and hue to the dark, mystical milieu RJD tempted us all to inhabit, inspired us all to imagine.
He served up a fantastical, table-round smorgasbord of ladies of the lake, towers of stone and crossbows in the firelight … the temple of the king, the leather and the lace, the gates of Babylon.
Many will find it all juvenile sword and sorcery, dungeons ’n’ dragons, medieval jackassery. But while not wholly original it was never less than totally, absolutely, completely committed, straight from the heart.
Ronnie James Dio was Metal’s elfish inspiration, an always strategically-astute warlord leading a ferociously loyal band of followers, for ever throwing the horns. He died on May 16 2010, after a battle with stomach cancer, aged 67.
I’m a wheel, I’m a wheel
I can roll, I can feel
And you can’t stop me turning
’Cause I’m the sun, I’m the sun
I can move, I can run
But you’ll never stop me burning …
Come down with fire
Lift my spirit higher
Someone’s screaming my name
Come and make me holy again …