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NEW YORK — Heaven and hell. Is there a better contrast, a more direct and visceral way to express good and evil, dark and light, eternal joy and eternal suffering?
It takes an equally dynamic band to make music that illustrates that contrast. A band like, well, Heaven and Hell.
Combining power and grace, the Ronnie James Dio-era lineup of Black Sabbath has thrown off the shackles of its old name, calling itself Heaven and Hell, a nod to the first album Sabbath released with Dio in 1980. Together only until ’82, and then again from ’90-’92, the band’s body of work was rich and influential to future musicians but relatively forgotten by the masses. Remarkably and unexpectedly, it reconvened to record new tracks for “The Dio Years” collection in 2007, triumphantly toured and early this year released the dark, brutal studio album “The Devil You Know.”
The first Dio era of Sabbath was unquestionably more melodic and soaring than the raw, sometimes plodding Ozzy Osbourne material. In the studio, ’80s Sabbath even took on some light arena-rock feels, thanks to production that was then in vogue.
On tour, Heaven and Hell is not only revisiting that legacy, it’s improving upon it. It seems bizarre to call heavy metal dinosaurs performing songs with lyrics that could’ve been culled from a “Dungeons & Dragons” manual relevant, but when it’s loud, powerful and in-the-moment, as it was Aug. 18 at the WaMu Theater inside Madison Square Garden, the attraction is undeniable.
After an introduction from TV/radio blowhard Eddie Trunk and his VH1 “That Metal Show” co-host Don Jamieson, the lights dimmed and an ominous drone rose from the stage, which was flanked by metal gates. The band — Iommi, bassist Geezer Butler and drummer Vinnie Appice — launched into “The Mob Rules,” and the diminutive Dio enthusiastically ran onto the stage, clad in a spangled blouse with flared sleeves. Besides the encore, it was the only song of the night the affable frontman didn’t introduce by name.
The punchy “The Mob Rules” was a perfect opener, and with the sold-out crowd hooked, the band gave it “Children of the Sea,” an ebbing, introspective number. The theatrical Dio, 67, acted out the song with hand gestures, and strobe lights in sync with Appice’s beastly drums drove home the song’s heavier parts. During “I,” Iommi played a solo that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a Soundgarden album.
“Bible Black,” one of three songs Heaven and Hell played from “The Devil You Know,” was an early-set favorite. Iommi replaced the acoustic intro from the album with an electric one, the eerie animation based on the album cover was much more gripping than the song’s music video and Dio added an extra verse. It was what the live music experience is all about: taking a great recorded song and adding more dimensions to it.
The pop-metal “Time Machine,” from 1992, was well delivered, and Butler rumbled the room with his bass. It led to a forgettable Appice drum solo and “Fear,” another well-done “Devil” selection.
If Iommi is heavy metal’s architect, then Dio is its wizard, and the two complemented each other brilliantly on “Falling off the Edge of the World.” Dio intoned the slow opening, setting up the meat of the song with sung tales of the round table and kings, before Iommi unleashed the slow, gargantuan riffs of the middle section. The usually stoic Iommi smirked, knowing more than 5,000 fans were hanging on his every note, then launched into the fast, savage riff that dominates the rest of the song.
Dio yielded the stage to Iommi, whom he called “the greatest guitar player that ever walked the face of the earth,” who dove into the intro to “Die Young,” a quintessential Heaven and Hell song, with fast and slow and light and dark all represented.
“We liked this one so much we decided to call the band after it,” Dio said, introducing the song that needed no introduction. For nearly 20 minutes, Dio and company converted the theater — which had Britney Spears performing upstairs, bizarrely — into the underworld, blasting fiery riffs, growling lyrics and then reaching for the sky.
An encore wasn’t necessary after that, but the band reemerged to a snippet of “Country Girl” and “Neon Knights,” which segued into the main “Heaven and Hell” sing-along riff to put a stamp on the evening.
If Heaven and Hell decide to never perform again — which is a possibility, with acrimony in the band’s past and Iommi scheduled for hand surgery — that would be a shame. A bigger shame, though, would be if it never reformed in the first place. Thousands, perhaps millions of fans, some reliving glory years and others experiencing this music for the first time, are the better for it.