Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. After just paying tribute to Budgie frontman Burke Shelley, the rock world has suffered yet another catastrophic loss, this time in the form of one of the greatest singers who ever lived, Meat Loaf. For all two of you who are wondering, “Why is a metal site paying tribute to Meat Loaf?”, allow me to educate you. Before becoming a household name, Meat got his start with hard rock madman Ted Nugent, singing on roughly half of his 1976 album, Free-for-All. Following that was a legendary solo career which spanned 45 years. Aesthetically speaking, Meat Loaf was more influential to the development of symphonic metal, gothic metal, and the theatrical side of power metal than most metal historians would like to admit. His music had mass crossover appeal, winning over high school burnouts and preps alike, as well as their suburbanite parents whose musical diet consisted of Barry Manilow and the Carpenters. And yet all of this was done unintentionally.
This bizarre amalgamation of 50s rock n’ roll, Spectorian pop, sweaty hard rock, and epic progressive rock wrapped up in a Wagnerian twist was the brainchild of composer Jim Steinman. Together, he and Meat defied every law and convention set up by the music industry. In an age of disco balls and skinny ties, Bat Out of Hell exploded like an atomic bomb, going onto become one of the top 5 best selling albums in the history of recorded music. Weighing somewhere in the ballpark of 350 pounds, Meat became an unexpected sex symbol, with his long flowing hair, Victorian attire, and bombastic voice attracting legions of ladies who were sick of strung out runts like Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler. It seemed like the party would never end…until it did. Today, we pay tribute to the man born Marvin Lee Aday, by revisiting his second album, Dead Ringer.
The year was 1981. The 70s were over chronologically speaking. Musically, however, it was another story. Although the NWOBHM had engulfed Europe, it would be another year before heavy metal mania would take over the States, thanks to the likes of Scorpions, Rainbow, Judas Priest, and Iron Maiden unleashing cross country arena blitzes. Until then, the AOR giants of the late 70s only grew larger. Journey, Foreigner, Styx, and REO Speedwagon all dropped blockbuster releases this year, embarking on accompanying sellout tours, and even Loverboy and April Wine broke through the Canadian curtain. For all purposes, Meat Loaf should’ve been alongside his peers, celebrating the release of his long awaited sophomore album, Dead Ringer. This was not to be.
It had been a long hard road for Meat Loaf since Bat Out of Hell. The album itself was a sleeper, taking roughly a year to catch the attention of the listening public, and then growing upon hype from there. Meat and his rock n’ roll orchestra toured relentlessly all across America. It was here where the trouble began. As the old tale goes, Meat fell victim to the vices of sex, drugs, and exhaustion that plagued his profession. As if this vicious cycle couldn’t get worse, it robbed him of his golden voice, causing him to retreat from the public eye into hiding. This lead to Jim Steinman recording the proposed follow up to Bat Out of Hell, Bad for Good, as a solo album. It was a solid album, but fell short of the brilliance that was Bat. Steinman was a genius songwriter. Vocally, he was OK at best.
This isn’t so much a criticism of Steinman, but rather an observation of how pivotal Meat’s voice was: a powerhouse set of pipes that went toe to toe with Dio and Halford. Thankfully, those pipes did miraculously return. Not long after the release of Bad for Good, Steinman presented his partner with another collection of gloriously over the topic rock n’ roll epics. That collection was Dead Ringer. Musically, it follows almost in the same template as Bat, but with a heavier reliance on ballads. It was this niche that would make Meat an unexpected adult contemporary staple in the 90s, but more on that another time.
Dead Ringer opens with one of the finest songs in the Meat Loaf catalog, “Peel Out”. The buildup of an ominous guitar line, dramatic choir, and revving motorcycle engine set the stage for Meat’s grand introduction: The beast was back. Granted, his voice sounds a tad thinner than it did five years earlier, but considering what he had went through, it was a miracle he could even sing at all. “Peel Out” is a blistering hard rock assault, with an anthemic, arena ready attitude to boot. Why it wasn’t released as a single, I’ll never know.
Following this grandiose opener is my absolute favorite track on the album, “I’m Gonna Love Her for Both of Us”. A musical love letter to Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound approach, this 7 minute opus follows stylistically in the vein of Bat‘s “You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth”. In true Loafian (Can we make this a new adjective?) fashion, Meat spends the song telling one of his bros how he’s gonna take his lady away from him. He “can’t stand to see” how he’s “living with a goddess” but “treats her like a slave”. Not only is he going to take her away from him, but he’s going to “let her shine like a jewel in the crown of the holy sun”. And we believe it! Why? Because Meat says so! If anyone else were singing this line (Steinman included), it wouldn’t be nearly as believable. Yet Meat drives it home, singing directly to that high school girl (or perhaps her mom) who is going through an abusive relationship. He is that unorthodox, unlikely rock n’ roll knight in shining armor, and he carried that persona his entire career.
Side A closes with yet another 7+ minute suite in “More Than You Deserve”. Despite its delicate, piano-centric arrangement and Meat’s passionate performance, it’s the one song on the album that I can’t help but cringe at from a lyrical perspective. Imagining Meat walking in on his girl “making love to” his “best friend” is one thing. “Two” of his “best friends” and finally “a room” of his “best friends”? No wonder it was shelved for nearly a decade. Steinman wrote this as the title track to an equally cringe worthy 1974 musical of the same name (I’ll let you read up on it for yourself.) All I can say is he really must’ve been in his feelings when he wrote this one.
As we flip over to side B, we’re greeted by the extravagantly titled “I’ll Kill You if You Don’t Come Back”. This song is really two in one. The first is classic pop rock with Thin Lizzy inspired hard rock guitars, courtesy of Elton John axeslinger Davey Johnstone. The second is a lush piano ballad, where Meat’s frantically desperate vocal delivery and a sea of cinematic melodies collide to close it out. Put the two together and you’ve got one of the most unsung rock operas ever recorded.
The piano ballads continue with “Read ‘Em and Weep”. What can best be described as Dead Ringer‘s “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad”, “Read ‘Em and Weep” is a heartbreaking breakup song. Although it was released as a single, it failed to match the success of its predecessor (a them that runs deep throughout this album from a commercial perspective)…well, at least Meat Loaf’s performance failed to do so. A 1983 remake by adult contemporary god Barry Manilow went on to be a chart topping smash. The world is indeed a cruel place. Look, with all due respect to Manilow’s contribution to the grand pantheon of pop music, his vocals pale in comparison to Meat’s, hence why his rendition is turned down to the key of Z.
If “Read ‘Em and Weep” is Dead Ringer‘s “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad”, then “Dead Ringer for Love” is its “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”. Move over Stevie Nicks and Don Henley; THIS is the real #1 duet of 1981. On “Dead Ringer”, Meat is paired with pop princess Cher for a raucous throwback to the 1950s. Rumor has it if you listen to it on repeat, your hair will grease back on its own à la Danny Zuko. Despite doing nothing stateside, “Dead Ringer” was the closest thing this album had to a hit, faring well on the European charts and going silver in the UK. Closing it all out is one more piano ballad in “Everything is Permitted”. Thanks to its elegant orchestral arrangement and a killer guitar solo, it comes off as more of a power ballad than the bulk of this album, but the adult contemporary/pop aspect is still there. It’s not as hard hitting of a closer as “For Crying Out Loud”, but it adequately rounds out the album for my money.
As I’ve hinted at many times throughout this essay, Dead Ringer didn’t even come close to the success of Bat Out of Hell. In fact, it was a commercial disaster, failing to even go gold in America. The question is why? Aside from some debatable production decisions, Dead Ringer is an excellent album. In fact, if I were ranking Meat’s catalog, I’d put it third behind only Bat II and the OG Bat. If you get anything out of this essay, I hope it’s a fresh perspective on an album that’s fallen through the cracks, and a willingness to revisit it. If you’ve never listened to it before, hold on tight and get ready to “Peel Out” of this world and into the next with Meat, Jim, and their fictitious gang of thugs and muses.