In a revelation that’s sending shockwaves through the rock universe, Sharon Osbourne, the formidable matriarch of heavy metal royalty, has finally addressed the electrifying MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs) performance that saw British punk-rock sensation Yungblud join forces with Aerosmith legends Steven Tyler and Joe Perry. The August 28, 2025, collaboration—a blistering rendition of Aerosmith’s classic “Walk This Way” fused with Yungblud’s raw, modern edge—left audiences stunned and the internet ablaze. But it was Sharon’s candid confession in a bombshell interview with Rolling Stone this week that has reignited fierce debates across the rock world. Some hail it as a triumphant “passing of the torch” moment, bridging generations of rebellion and grit. Others, however, are demanding the full truth behind her words, sensing layers of intrigue in the Osbourne family’s endorsement of the 28-year-old Dom Harrison (Yungblud’s real name). At the heart of it all? A poignant final conversation with her husband, Ozzy Osbourne—the Prince of Darkness himself—who urged Sharon to “give him a chance” before his health battles intensified. Now, with the Osbournes’ full backing, Yungblud isn’t just rising; he’s positioned as the heir to a legacy that refuses to fade. But the burning question lingers: Can this fiery young artist truly become heavy metal’s next immortal?
The VMAs performance was nothing short of explosive, a high-octane clash of eras that encapsulated the spirit of rock ‘n’ roll’s enduring chaos. As the lights dimmed at Madison Square Garden, Tyler, 77, and Perry, 74, took the stage with their signature swagger—Tyler’s scarves fluttering like battle flags, Perry’s Les Paul guitar gleaming under the spotlights. Enter Yungblud, shirtless and tattooed, his electric energy a stark contrast to the veterans’ seasoned poise. The trio launched into “Walk This Way,” Aerosmith’s 1975 hit, but Yungblud injected it with punk fury: distorted guitars, rapid-fire lyrics about modern alienation, and a mosh-pit-inducing breakdown that had the crowd surging. Tyler’s raspy howl intertwined with Yungblud’s snarling vocals, while Perry’s riffs provided the backbone. The finale saw Yungblud crowd-surfing, Tyler belting a shared scream, and Perry raising his fist in solidarity. It was raw, unfiltered, and over in five minutes—but the impact? Seismic.
Social media erupted immediately. “This is rock’s future right here,” tweeted @RockRevivalFan, a post that garnered 150,000 likes. Hashtags like #YungbludAerosmith and #VMAsLegacy trended worldwide, with clips amassing over 50 million views in 24 hours. Critics praised the synergy: Billboard called it “a masterclass in generational handoff,” while NME noted Yungblud’s ability to honor the past without aping it. But beneath the applause lurked questions. Why Yungblud? And what did the Osbournes—icons of metal’s wild underbelly—think? Sharon Osbourne, ever the gatekeeper of rock’s elite, held her tongue initially, fueling speculation. Was it a calculated snub, or something deeper?
Enter Sharon’s confession, dropped like a thunderclap in her Rolling Stone sit-down on September 10. The 73-year-old, sharp as ever despite her own health struggles, didn’t mince words. “That performance? It gave me chills—the good kind,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of decades in the industry. “Yungblud has that fire, that unhinged passion we all chased in the ’70s. Steven and Joe saw it too; you could feel the electricity.” But it was her revelation about Ozzy that stole the show. In what she described as their “final deep conversation” before his latest round of treatments for Parkinson’s and other ailments, the Black Sabbath frontman pulled her aside. “Ozzy looked at me, eyes twinkling like in his prime, and said, ‘Give him a chance, Shaz. He has the same fire we all had when we were young.’ It was like he was passing the baton himself.” Sharon paused, tears welling. “Ozzy’s always had an eye for the real deal. He saw Black Sabbath in Yungblud—the rebellion, the heart.”
This endorsement isn’t casual; the Osbournes have long been kingmakers in rock. Sharon managed Ozzy’s career from Sabbath’s heyday through his solo triumphs, turning Black Sabbath into metal gods and Ozzy into a cultural phenomenon. Their reality TV empire, The Osbournes, humanized the chaos, while Sharon’s no-BS persona made her a rock oracle. For Yungblud to receive their blessing? It’s akin to a royal decree. “The Osbourne seal is gold in this world,” said music historian Dr. Lena Voss in an NPR analysis. “Sharon doesn’t hand it out lightly. This could catapult Yungblud from indie darling to stadium staple.”
Yungblud’s rise has been meteoric, but not without controversy. Born Dom Harrison in 1997 in Doncaster, England, he burst onto the scene in 2017 with his debut EP The Underrated Youth, blending punk, emo, and hip-hop into anthems of mental health and social unrest. Hits like “I Think I’m Okay” and “Parents” resonated with Gen Z, earning him a devoted “Yungblud Army.” By 2022, his album Weird! topped charts, and collaborations with Machine Gun Kelly and Halsey solidified his alt-rock status. But critics have called him “manufactured rebellion,” accusing him of profiting off angst without the grit of his influences. The VMAs performance silenced many doubters, proving he could hold his own with legends.
Sharon’s words have reignited debates, splitting the rock community. On one side, optimists see a “passing of the torch.” “This is what rock needs—fresh blood honoring the old guard,” wrote Kerrang! editor Alex Deller. Forums like Reddit’s r/rock buzz with excitement: “Yungblud with Tyler? It’s like punk meeting classic rock in heaven.” Aerosmith fans, protective of their icons, largely approve, with Perry tweeting post-performance: “Kid’s got soul. Rock on.” The moment evokes historic handoffs, like when Aerosmith themselves jammed with Run-D.M.C. in 1986, revitalizing their career.
Yet, skeptics demand “the full truth.” Some question Sharon’s motives: Is this genuine praise, or a ploy to align the Osbournes with youth culture amid Ozzy’s health woes? “Sharon’s always been strategic,” sniped a Metal Hammer op-ed. “Ozzy’s fading—maybe Yungblud’s their hedge for the future.” Others probe deeper: Yungblud’s outspoken activism on LGBTQ+ rights and anti-fascism clashes with metal’s traditional machismo. “Is this really Ozzy’s fire, or a watered-down version?” debated a thread on Louder Sound. Conspiracy corners whisper of industry machinations—did Sharon orchestrate the collab? Her confession, while heartfelt, leaves gaps: What exactly did Ozzy mean by “the same fire”? And why now, three years after Yungblud’s breakthrough?
The Osbourne family’s full support adds fuel. Kelly Osbourne, Sharon’s daughter and a punk enthusiast, gushed on Instagram: “Yungblud’s the real deal. Dad would love him—pure chaos with heart.” Jack Osbourne, Ozzy’s son, echoed in a podcast: “Watching that VMA clip, I saw Sabbath’s spirit. Sharon’s right; he’s the heir.” Even Ozzy, in a rare lucid moment shared via family statement, reportedly nodded approval from his bedside. This unity is rare for the Osbournes, who’ve weathered addiction, feuds, and public scrutiny. Their backing positions Yungblud as more than a collaborator—he’s anointed, a chosen one in metal’s lineage.
Yungblud himself is humbled yet defiant. In a follow-up Billboard interview, Harrison addressed the hype: “Sharon’s words mean everything. Ozzy’s a god to me—Black Sabbath shaped my sound. If I’m the torchbearer, I’ll run with it, but on my terms.” He teased future projects: a potential Osbourne collab, perhaps a remix of “Paranoid” with punk twists. His tour, the “Weird! World” trek, now sells out arenas, with fans chanting “Yungblud Army” in tribute to the VMAs moment.
But can Yungblud become heavy metal’s next immortal? The bar is stratospheric. Icons like Ozzy, Tyler, and Perry didn’t just perform—they embodied rebellion, surviving scandals, lineup changes, and cultural shifts. Ozzy bit heads off bats; Aerosmith rose from heroin-fueled ashes. Yungblud’s activism is vital, but lacks that visceral edge. “He’s got the fire, but does he have the scars?” pondered Voss. His next album, slated for 2026, will test this—rumors swirl of guest spots from metal vets, including a Sabbath reunion tease.
The debates rage on, from barroom arguments to viral threads. Is Yungblud the savior of rock, or a fleeting flash? Sharon’s confession, tied to Ozzy’s wisdom, tips the scales toward hope. In a genre born from darkness, her words illuminate a path: Yungblud as heir, carrying the flame forward. As the rock world watches, one thing’s clear—the legacy endures, and Yungblud’s just getting started.
