For decades, Rob “Blasko” Nicholson has held down the low end for the biggest names in horror and heavy metal, serving as the bassist for both Rob Zombie and the legendary Ozzy Osbourne. Yet, despite a resume that would make any musician envious, Blasko admits he still grapples with a sense of disbelief every time he steps onto the stage.
In a humble and introspective conversation on the latest episode of the “What’s Wrong With Orny Adams“ podcast, Blasko reflected on the “out-of-body experience” of transforming from a fanboy holding a vinyl record to the man playing the opening notes of “Crazy Train” alongside the Prince of Darkness himself.
Blasko described his childhood reverence for rock icons as bordering on worship of alien deities. Growing up, albums like Kiss‘ Destroyer and Ozzy‘s Blizzard of Ozz weren’t just collections of songs; they were artifacts from another world.
“You gotta understand that I grew up as a kid with an Ozzy Osbourne record in my hands, looking at it… and not even realizing that it’s a human being,” Blasko told Adams (as transcribed by Blabbermouth). “There’s a picture of him on the cover and you look at it and you’re, like, ‘This isn’t even a human being.'”
Because of this deeply ingrained idolization, the transition to being Ozzy‘s bandmate created a persistent sense of imposter syndrome. Even amidst the roar of 100,000 fans, the reality often felt unearned.
“It doesn’t factor in that I’m playing the song from this record with this dude on stage. It never felt like it was deserving,” Blasko confessed. “You look over and you’re, like, ‘That’s the dude and I’m playing the song… but I’m not sure that I really am here on purpose.'”
This humility extends to his tenure with Rob Zombie, a band he rejoined in January 2024. Despite his own success, Blasko coined a self-deprecating term for his status in the industry: “rock star adjacent.”
“I joke, like, I’m not a rock star. I’m ‘rock star adjacent’… I look at it from — I don’t know — a bit of a humble perspective of, like, I’m fortunate that I have the opportunity to contribute to these dudes who are actual rock stars, their career.”
He recalled a humorous exchange with Zombie regarding the effort required to maintain an image. While Zombie effortlessly embodies his persona, Blasko feels he has to work harder to keep up.
“I go, ‘Yeah, dude, you know why [I have style]? Because I don’t get up being you every day. You’re you… There’s no extra effort that goes into being that guy.’ I gotta put in extra effort… to come on a podcast. He can [just wake up like that]. I can’t.”
When asked if he ever feels detached from the applause because the songs aren’t his own, Blasko was surprisingly candid. He views his role as a steward of classic music rather than a creator of it, affectionately describing his high-profile gigs as being in a “cover band.”
“I justify it because I’m contributing to a thing that I love and I’m a part of it… but in no way do I think that I had anything to do with it, in the bigger picture,” he explained. “I’m fortunate to get up there and play in front of all these people… but at the end of the day, I’m in a cover band. I’m playing someone else’s stuff.”
Finally, Blasko touched on the unique psychology of Ozzy Osbourne. He noted that because Ozzy achieved massive success as a teenager with Black Sabbath, effectively inventing heavy metal before he had to hold down a regular job, his perspective on responsibility is fundamentally different from the average person.
“It’s hard to relate to the idea of never having to have any sense of responsibility in your life… I think he worked a job for, like, five minutes because he had to, but he invented a genre of music when he was a teenager,” Blasko observed. “He had a career at a very young age that enabled him to not have to go roof a house or something.”
Blasko‘s career began with the thrash band Cryptic Slaughter in the mid-80s. He first played for Rob Zombie from 1997 to 2006 before leaving to join Ozzy‘s band. He returned to the Zombie fold earlier this year, replacing Matt “Piggy D.” Montgomery.
