Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Meat Loaf -From Hell and Back: The Grand Ole Wagnerian Opry

Mark Twain famously stated "Wagner's music is better than it sounds", although he was actually quoting Edgar Wilson "Bill" Nye the Humorist Guy.

So in the mid-seventies, when a young composer named Jim Steinman began pitching a futuristic version of Peter Pan as a "Wagnerian rock opera" to record executives, you can imagine the collage of rejections that followed. It's likely that many of them had no idea what 'Wagnerian' meant, and those that did were probably even more turned off by the idea. Hell, up until this very moment I didn't actually know the definition of the word (having the enormous dramatic scale and intensity of a Wagner opera) but I think I've always understood it on an emotional level.

The short version, Steinman (who I'm going call Jim from now on, because I've listened to his music my whole life and I feel like I know him personally) is audacious. Most song writers strive to hit that bull's-eye with pinpoint accuracy, but Jim is the type who wants to see what happens if you catapult a wagon full of milk jars at the target. It's one brilliant shower of chaos momentarily unleashed that you will never forget.

I'm simplifying of course. If it was just about gusto, anybody could do that; whereas Jim truly is a talented musician. But the main difference between Jim and his compatriots of the time is he makes you feel like you're listening to a soundtrack, not an album. A soundtrack to a story that you can't possibly follow because the snippets really don't fit together, but you feel like you've experienced something from start to finish once the album fades. I guess, what could be more Wagnerian than that?

So in the spirit of Halloween, I've decided to give the Bat Out of Hell trilogy a full opera house treatment. So sit back and enjoy, keep flash photography to a minimum, and please keep all trash and screaming children out of the aisles and/or amphitheater. Remember, your safety is our inconvenient priority. Jerks.


Act One: Bat Out of Hell

We open on a dark stage with a pair of car headlights on a lonely road come into view. They click off, revealing our first character inside the car; known to us only as the Poet. The opera is ultimately his story. The Poet is very loosely based on Jim, or more accurately his role in the development of the whole franchise.

We're going to be exploring the concepts of Heaven and Hell in this opera, but not necessarily as understood by Orthodox religion. In the most simplified terms, Heaven refers to a sense of ultimate connection, whereas Hell is a complete isolation. In much the same way as human beings are all compelled by two incompatible drives (the need to belong versus the desire to be exceptional), the theme of self versus community flows through the whole opera.

In the distance, off to the side and down a bit, a light glows. The Poet exits his car and begins the descent down to it. Cue the overture.

Bat Out of Hell: This is one of the all time great epic rock tracks, and it manages to sum up adolescence in the first two chords; loud and unignorable but still posed as a question. It's a teenaged tragedy song, where the guy on the motorcycle (usually named Johnny) dies at the end. But unlike "Leader of the Pack" there's no engagement ring, disapproving family, or plot for that matter. The guy is hot for the girl but loves his freedom too much to get tied down to her. Then he can't stop thinking about her and crashes his motorcycle. But his heart lives on, continuing his fast ride down the road on a metaphorical level.

And it's here we meet our second main character, the Voice (a semi-surrogate for Meat Loaf). The Voice needs to be exceptional and desires the freedom of the road above all else. The Voice could arguably represent the Poet's own ego. At the end of the song the Voice pulls his motorcycle up to the Poet and offers him a ride to where the light in the distance glows, the Carnival of Limbo.

The Carnival looks exactly like what it says, a combination circus and state fair lit by reds and oranges. At the far end is a large Gate, which we don't care about right now. Just remember it's there.

Standout line: "And nothin' really rocks and nothin' really rolls and nothin's ever worth the cost" -just because the percussion does something really cool underneath it.

You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth (Hot Summer Night): Jim loves his long titles. The main thing about this one is it's divided into two sections, the spoken and the sung. The spoken is the more interesting. A male voice flirts with a female in one of the most bizarre pickup lines ever.

The spoken section takes place near the Gate, which is shrouded in shadow. A female figure, known from now on as the Angel, enters the Carnival passing near the Gate. The male voice is the Bat, which we don't see at this time. The Angel is surrounded by a white glow, and she's clearly flirting with the Bat. The dialog ends in a mutual respectful stale mate between them.

The action moves back to the Voice and the Poet for the song proper. They have arrived at the Carnival and the Voice is greeted by a chorus of denizens who seem to recognize him. The Voice presents himself as a Casanova to women, and kind of a consequence-free fantasy that the Poet wishes he could be.

Standout line: The increasingly agitated "Yes!"

Heaven Can Wait: The first song sung by the Poet, and it's a reflection on what he's experiencing at the Carnival. Again, this is not Heaven as death to paradise, but Heaven as accepting one's place in a community. Basically the Poet isn't ready to settle down, and he's assuming his life of freedom will be parallel to the wild adventures the Voice seems to have had.

Standout line: "And I know that I've been released but I don't know to where. Nobody's gonna tell me now and I don't really care".

All Revved Up with No Place to Go: I know I'm not talking that much about the music, but I'm assuming that anyone reading this has more than a passing familiarity with the three albums. Also, while the first album has the most raw passion of the trilogy, it's also the most shallow. This song in particular is great on its own but it doesn't really cover new territory. The Voice gets his third song and he's now taken the stage for the Carnival's denizens, establishing the common trait among them all as being unsatisfied.

I typically steer clear of sexual terms as much as possible (they're easy and obvious) but for the Bat Out of Hell trilogy they're inescapable. This song is about sexual frustration. And it provides a simple motivator for the Voice. Everything about him is looking for that sense of climax and not quite getting it. I expect we'll be revisiting this concept on a later album.

Standout line: Honestly none. Sorry Jim.

Two Out of Three Ain't Bad: The album so far has been epic, good, beautiful, and good enough. But this song is the first of two consecutive 'big guns' in the rock arsenal (read: the greatest anti-love song ever).

In presentation, we witness how the Poet got here in the first place. It's revealed that he was once in love with a girl who broke his heart, and then he kept his heart permanently guarded, wounding another girl in the process. Both of these characters are seen in flashback. Dora is the one that got away and Ruby is the one the Poet left behind.

*See what I did there? Nope? Okay, Dora is short for Pandora AKA Pandora's Box the all girl group Jim Steinman formed in the eighties which included singer Ellen Foley who appeared on the first Bat Out of Hell album. And Ruby means 'red' which connects to the name Russo, a la Patti Russo, the singer who toured with Meat Loaf for nearly twenty years. It's just not as cool when you explain it all is it?

Standout line: "But there ain't no Coupe de Ville hiding at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box". Only Jim Steinman could pull that line off.

Paradise by the Dashboard Light: If you've only heard one Meat Loaf song, it's this one. The Poet is taken into a tent where the Angel (remember the Angel?) gives him a little fortune telling insight into his greatest fear, settling down with the wrong person. The Poet is shown an alternate reality of what could have been and what he's running from. The girl in this sequence is actually Dora wearing Ruby's outfit as a deliberate amalgamation of the two females.

Again, I hate referring to things in blatant sexual terms but it's appropriate here. At several points in his career, Jim has built a song up to the point of musical orgasm (Holding Out for a Hero comes to mind), but here it feels like he's faking it by going into the major key. Whether or not this was intentional, it's effectively keeping with the motif.

Standout line: The whole baseball monologue, capped off by "Stop right there!". It's a thing of beauty.

For Crying Out Loud: Closing out the first album is this little gem that goes mostly unnoticed. The Carnival is closing and the denizens pack everything up and head through the Gate. The Poet leaves the way he came, leaving only the Angel and the Voice on stage. The Angel is on her way out when the Voice calls out to her with this song, hinting at a painful history between them (best left implied).

Plot-wise, this song reveals the Voice's fascination with the Angel; particularly her ability to handle joy and pain simultaneously (the Voice has proven by now he's all about pleasure-seeking and pain-avoidance). The Angel is flattered by his passion, but she's ultimately unattainable to him, bidding farewell. The Gate opens, demanding the Voice return to where he came, but his ego is too strong and he stays on this side as the act comes to a close.

Standout line: Not a line, but the loudest chord Jim and company could strike after several minutes of lullaby inducement (this being the moment the gate opens). If you weren't awake before, you are now.


Act Two: Back Into Hell

Act One was adolescence. Act Two is adulthood of around the age of thirty-five. Same setting, except we open on the Carnival grounds before the Gate opens up for business. The Angel has arrived early for purposes known only to her. And off in the distance, the headlights of the Voice's motorcycle are spotted in approach. He may very well have been chasing her for the past sixteen years.

I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That): While I don't think this song is as good as it's given credit for, I am pleased that the sequel album produced a track as iconic as the first album did. The Voice courts the Angel in full blown production while the denizens slip out of the Gate to set up the Carnival again. His words are sweet and thorough, but the Angel is still not buying it, and she rejects him.

Standout Line: "But I'll never forgive myself if we don't go all the way tonight." Thirteen words undo nine minutes of promises by revealing his true intentions. He wants sex, and everything else is just empty froth. Runner up: "Will you raise me up? Will you help me down?" The moment where she finally gets sick of his crap. She's toying with him, but anyone familiar with the song knows how many steps ahead of him she really is.

Life is a Lemon and I Want My Money Back: The Carnival is up and running, and the Poet has made his way back to it. It's implied that he's tried modeling his life off of the wildness in which the Voice has existed and it has paid off poorly for him. And now he returns to the place of his teenaged years where he first got the ideas in his head with an eight minute lament (because for all of Jim's amazing talent, he has no intuition regarding appropriate song length).

Standout line: "There's desperation!" Not when Meat Loaf sings it, but when the chorus calls it back to him. It sounds so very pained and angry from a bunch of faceless souls.

Rock and Roll Dreams Come True/It Just Won't Quit/Out of the Frying Pan (And into the Fire): Up next we have twenty minutes and thirty-five seconds of not much going on, maybe this should have been the intermission. All three of these songs are okay, but just that, and certainly not rock opera quality songs. The short version: music speaks for you, I'm frustrated, and Jim came up with a title that he liked and had to force a song on it. I don't know what to do with these songs except cram them into a medley to get them over with. Leave me a comment if you have a suggestion.

Standout line: None. Not a freaking one. Eleven hundred and seventy-seven words and I can't find anything memorable. Sorry Jim, but this really feels like lots and lots of filler. No worries though, you're about to have the crowning comeback of awesome.

Objects in the Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer than They Are: In all of Jim's catalog, I can only think of one that might challenge this as his all time best (and we'll get to it). This isn't teenaged angst where you're afraid of the world as you perceive it. This is the result of the beat down that only adults can process the long term effects of.

Allegory, symbolism, and a three act structure of brokenness. The Poet returns to the lonely road, having not found the answers he'd hoped for, and engages in self-reflection. He lets the unhappy memories spill out until he's reached full meltdown before finally getting in his car and driving away.

Standout line: "I'll probably never know where she disappeared." The song is thoroughly melancholic, so it never pretends that there's going to be a moment of joy tuck away in there. His first memory is of a childhood friend who was killed in an accident, and his second was of his abusive father. We're not fooled in the third verse when he starts singing about 'the girl' (Dora). What should be a happy experience is inevitably going to take a turn south, it's only a question of what happened to her. And then we find out. He doesn't know. And that lack of answer is more gut wrenching than any tangible tragedy.

Wasted Youth/Everything Louder than Everything Else: It's at this crucial juncture that the Bat awakens (remember the Bat?) and gives the audience the first glimpse of his physical form; a wing, some teeth, glowing eyes, but nothing fully visible. His voice relays the spoken tongue-in-cheek monologue. Then the Voice assumes control of the Carnival's crowd and belts out his credo.

"Everything Louder" is a fascinating song, in that it succeeds and fails at the same goal. It comes out of the gate at full throttle and tries so very hard to top itself without making it. We're back to the sexual metaphor unfortunately, but this song it doing everything in its power to reach climax. Maybe it's the result of trying too hard, but it winds up not getting there. The Voice may not even realize it, but we're in adulthood now. Sometimes that's the first thing to go.

Standout line: "If you want my views of history then there's something you should know. The three men I admire most are Curly, Larry, Moe." The line stands out for completely the wrong reason. It's stupid. This may be the only time Jim's lyrics have honest to God fallen flat. Luckily we're able to shake it off, because for any other artist that would have been the jump the shark moment.

Good Girls Go to Heaven (Bad Girls Go Everywhere): This song was originally written for Pandora's Box. With that in mind I think the female voice should reclaim it. For this opera, it's performed by the Angel.

While it's not specified, the Angel clearly comes from a place other than the Gate, and subsequently the Carnival's denizens. She a little wiser than anyone else here, and more openly sympathetic. The message behind these lyrics is, you don't have to give up all your passions, just find the balance.

Standout line: "You've been nothing but an angel every day of your life and now you wonder what it's like to be damned." Gee, I can't imagine why that would speak to me...

Back into Hell/Lost Boys and Golden Girls: "Back into Hell" is an instrumental. The Gate opens just a little, and the forces on the other side try to recapture the Voice to bring him back where he belongs, but he's too fast. He escapes by fleeing the Carnival and looking down on it from the spot where the Poet was last seen. From here he sings Act Two's epilogue.

Standout line: "And we'll never be as young as we are right now." I'll just let that speak for itself.

Act Three: The Monster is Loose

Another thirteen years go by. Meat loaf and Jim Steinman have a falling out that time can't repair fast enough, and the Bat Out of Hell franchise gets caught up in the divorce. Not getting a third album would be tragic, but you can't do it without both artists. Enter step-producer Desmond Child.

The Steinman purists disavow this album purely on Jim's lack of involvement, and yes, his baby was stolen from him. But sometimes shit happens, and you can only move forward. Bat 3 exists because of Child, and damn if he doesn't know what he's doing. First, he's a better record producer than Jim, there's no way around it. Second, look at his Wikipedia page. His fingerprints are all over everything you listen to. He's both talented and versatile. And finally, he produces a Bat out of Hell album with (and I can't believe I'm saying this) humility. He's only there to complete Jim's trilogy, matching his style as best as he can without outshining him. Desmond Child is a hero.

And thus, we open Act Three with the introduction of our final character, the Kid.

The Kid isn't literally a kid, and may not even be human; his origin is left intentionally ambiguous. He might represent a younger version of the Poet, and what could have been had he faced his demons instead of running from them. Or he could be something else entirely. Whatever he is, Act Three opens with him alone on the stage, stumbling across the unopened Gate. Like the lure of Pandora's Box (the actual box, not the musical group), he's compelled to peek inside. And all Hell breaks loose.

The Monster is Loose: In a special effects light show similar to the climax of Raiders of the Lost Ark, the Kid releases the Bat in its abstract form. By the end of the song, it has possessed the Kid, but we get one beautiful full spread-winged reveal of it at the song's climax.

And how about that climax? Child's opening contribution effectively matches Jim's sillier lyrics but supports them with an orchestra crescendo that I think even Beethoven would have respected.

Standout line: A musical one. The way the bridge teases the chorus, backs off, and then builds again four times as strong before hushing for about three seconds and then erupting like the final drop on a flume ride is worth the price of the album.

Blind as a Bat: I'll admit I usually skip this track. It sounds much bigger than it is, which in a way is Child capturing the whole of Jim's talents including the weaker bits. This is the Voice in a nearby field (probably among gravestones for the décor) calling out to the Angel. Naturally she doesn't come when called.

Standout line: "Your love is blind, BLIND as a bat" and not in a good way. It's painful enough on the ears hearing Meat Loaf scream the all caps word every time he gets to it, but knowing how badly he messed up his voice over the years makes one wonder if it could have been avoided with a little care.

It's All Coming Back to Me Now: The first Jim Steinman song on the album shifts the focus to the Poet, wherever he is in the world. He happens upon Dora after so many years, and that spark of attraction is still there; she feels it too. But the song gives more insight into just how unhealthy the relationship actually was.

This album's version Disney-fies a happy ending out the lyrics, but for this opera I'm going back to the original. It's not good.

Standout line: "There were those empty threats and hollow lies, and whenever you tried to hurt me I just hurt you even worse and so much deeper."

Bad for Good: We're back to the Voice. The Carnival has not been rebuilt yet but the denizens are crawling out of the shadows. The Voice performs one last time for them assuring them that he will never change (clearly a relic of Jim's unrealized Peter Pan opera).

Standout line: "I wasn't built for comfort I was built for speed." Just, wow. How's that mentality working out for you?

Cry Over Me: Ladies and gentlemen, presenting songwriter Diane Warren, the woman responsible for the rest of the music you listen to. We catch up with Ruby here (remember Ruby?) and see that she has not in fact passed on the "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" curse, opting instead to embrace the pain. She has not healed from being unceremoniously dumped by the Poet, and for the first time she's experiencing the call to the Gate.

Standout line: It's hard to pick one, but "I want your heart broken, some sign of emotion" probably best encapsulates her motives. She doesn't want him back, she just wants to know that she actually mattered.

In the Land of the Pig, the Butcher is King: One of the few traces of the Jim Steinman Batman musical that we never got to see (I'm not making this up you know). The Bat now singing through the Kid is recreating the Carnival in front of the Gate, summoning the denizens from earlier.

Standout line: "You know what to say if they stand in our way. Don't stand in our way." The song is the Bat trilogy at its most gothic horror, but tucked away in the bridge is this really funny anti-joke. Q: What did Batman say to Robin to get him in the car? A: Get in the car. Hilarious!

Monstro/Alive: I kind of like the pairing of those titles. I'm going to start shouting "Monstro alive!" when I'm taken by surprise; we'll see if it catches on. "Monstro" is a dramatic instrumental where the Gate finally opens all the way revealing what's behind it. But surprise! Kingdom Hearts is light! The Angel steps out, and the trolls immediately take to the message boards to gripe about the opera's continuity. She kisses the Kid and the Bat inside him fades. The Carnival's reds and oranges are bathed in a blanket of blue and white (coincidentally, my high school's colors). The Kid performs "Alive" for the denizens, who in turn consider that therapy might actually have some benefits.

Standout line: "And if my shadow's all that survives, I'm still alive."

If God Could Talk: The Poet has made his way back to the spot on the road that overlooks the Carnival. He catches sight of Ruby heading there in the distance, even though she doesn't see him. He almost calls out to her but decides against it, expressing his thoughts to the audience instead.

Standout line: "Did you tear all the pictures of us living life together? Did you burn all the memories that have been made in a fit of rage?" I listened to this album well over a dozen times before I realized how good this song is. It's a complicated exploration of someone who wants forgiveness, knowing they don't deserve it.

If it Ain't Broke, Break It: The Poet gets back in his car and tries to drive off, but it won't start. He throws a fit inside worthy of Basil Fawlty when the Voice rides by on his motorcycle and hits the car with his fist, bringing it back to life. Curiously, the Poet follows the Voice down to the Carnival where the Kid has roused the denizens in a massive musical number known as 'the showstopper'.

Standout line: The underlying brass section that sounds like they're invoking the Peter Gunn theme. Anybody could strut confidently down a back alley without fear of assault if they've got this music playing.

What About Love?: Ruby has made it to the Gate. She and the Kid make eye contact and there are sparks of familiarity even if neither is sure why. They sing the duet together.

Standout line: "Don't let fate make the choice for us." Possibly the point of the whole damned opera. Thanks for sticking through this for as long as you have, by the way.

Seize the Night: Sung by the Angel. The Gate is fully open for the Kid and Ruby to go through (and beyond to better things). Slowly some of the denizens get the idea to go through the Gate as well. A few hesitate and some flat out turn away. Eventually the Gate begins to close, with the Angel remaining on the outside. The Poet decides at the last second to try to go through as well, but it shuts and disappears before he can get there.

Standout line: "Dies irae, Kyrie! Sanctus, Sanctus exultate!" Latin just sounds good.

The Future Ain't What It Used to Be: How do you go from exultation to despair in one track? Probably when you realize that you could have been part of something wonderful and let it slip by. The Poet realizes he's blown it every step of the way and sings his metaphorical death song, accompanied by the Angel before she makes her final exit.

Standout line: So very many. This is the song that challenges "Objects in the Rear View Mirror" for Jim's finest. But the line that I think carries the most weight is "It's always so cold, and I'm too young to be old." Both the Poet and the Voice have expressed a refusal to grow up, but the Poet leaves knowing too late how unrealistic not growing up was. As for the Voice...

Cry to Heaven: He never had any intention of going through the Gate. He loves his freedom too much. But now he finds himself nearly alone, with no denizens cheering him on. His life was exceptional but disconnected, and now he has to pay the price for it.

It's only at this moment that he notices Dora has been here the whole time. Her life has presumably unfolded in much the same way as the Poet's, leading her to the same Gate and ending up equally devastated. His final song is a lullaby to her.

Standout line: "Go ahead and cry like Hell." Curtain.

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