It was a sunny day in hell Saturday at the Post-Gazette Pavilion.

Fans came more than 20,000 strong to worship the gods of metal, who have, at the very least, a decent cellular connection with the devil.

Stephen Hird, Associated Press 2002 file photo Ozzy Osbourne told Saturday's Ozzfest crowd that he was performing against his doctor's orders. Click photo for larger image.

The early part of the day found the black-clad fans soaking themselves pink in the scorched gravel lot of Stage 2. Bands like the black metal Lamb of God, the yin-yang goth Lacuna Coil and hardcore (but friendly) Hatebreed built the momentum for Slipknot, costumed minstrels of percussion and cacophony.

Then, the metalheads crossed the grass hill like the army of apocalypse to reach the main stage, where the old school ruled the day.

Black Label Society, featuring Ozzy axman Zak Wylde, roared through a set of squealing metal with guitars all up to 12. It was full-out, no frills and a little undistinguished compared to what was to come. Wylde, a rugged character, did impart some wisdom from his WWII-vet father: "You can fly planes into our buildings, but when you [mess] with the best, you're gonna die with the rest."

Phil Anselmo takes the award for the most hostile performer of the day -- and perhaps the year. He didn't seem to understand why the corrosive hardcore of his band, Superjoint Ritual, didn't inspire the overheated crowd to maintain a constant mosh pit.

The tattooed and mohawked Anselmo took to insults (or at least his idea of them): "If you're standing with your arms folded, you are a homosexual!" He also ratcheted up the military rhetoric: "This is the United States of America, and we can hate whoever we want! So, let's start busting heads!"

Ultimately, the angry but amusing kook went off the stage, slamming down the mike and saying, "You're the worst audience I ever played in front of."

Dimmu Borgir frontman Shagrath took the stage intoning, "We have been spelllllbound! By the devilllll!" The Norwegian band held down the costumed freak slot on the main stage, bounding out in white facepaint, swinging hair and spiked leather pants. They had a cool take on gothic metal with monster vocals and funereal keyboards over the grinding guitars. Twenty minutes into the set they unleashed the vocals of bassist Simen Hestnaes, who had a high, pure voice to offset Shagrath's demonic growl.

Slayer, a crowd favorite, didn't have to say they were spellbound by the devil to get the point across. The vintage speed-metal band (yes, vintage speed metal) got down to the business of slamming through a set that revealed some serious and muscular chops. The crowd went crazy, shouting back at them the words to songs like "Seasons in the Abyss" and "Dead Skin Mask," the story of a serial killer.

With the arrival of Judas Priest, we were suddenly thrust back to the '80s, when metal came with pomp, melody and a big light show. Rob Halford materialized in a hole above the drummer and then proceeded to use his bald head, dazzling array of leather and cat-like screams to wow the crowd.

Priest delivered fast metal with clean guitar lines and actual hooks -- metal that predated the double kick drum and bottomless bass, when everyone stepped aside to let the guitarist be a hero. JD had two, who swung their hair and jammed together on nearly every song. The commanding Halford climaxed the set by revving up the Harley for "Hellbent for Leather," then leading the crowd in sing-alongs on "Living After Midnight" and "You've Got Another Thing Comin'."

The advance word was that ringleader Ozzy had bronchitis and that Halford had to finish the set for him on Thursday night. One guy said Ozzy wasn't even in the house. But when the lights dimmed you could hear that unmistakable voice screaming "I can't hear you!" and then Ozzy hit the stage pogoing and sounding no worse for the wear on the anthemic "War Pigs."

Ozzy said he'd been sick for days and was going against doctor's orders. He was his crazy old self, though, jumping up and down, clapping his hands and throwing buckets of water at the crowd.

Not that Black Sabbath was fooling around. Tony Iommi proved himself the guitar hero of the day, effortlessly and elegantly reproducing those monster riffs and British blues-drenched solos.

Ozzy, pretty much a cartoon character at this point, showed he's still capable of generating a good scare on the band's sludgy, creepy title track. The timeworn "Iron Man" was more a celebration than a cliche.

As they played "Children of the Grave," lightning strikes started to appear behind the masses on the lawn, a fitting end to a Sabbath set and another Ozzfest that reinvoked the enduring power of metal.