Hang Cool Teddy Bear -- OUT TODAY!

Okay, so my countdown kinda fell apart at the end, but today is the day.

Hang Cool Teddy Bear is Out!!!

Meat Loaf's tenth studio album, Hang Cool Teddy Bear, is for sale today online and in stores. If you want to listen to it for free for one week only (5.11 - 5. 17) check out AOL Music: Full CD Listening Party.

Follow the story of a G.I. and the effects of love and war. Hang Cool includes contributions by Jon Bon Jovi, Brian May (of Queen), Steve Vai, and Hugh Laurie (yes, Dr. Greg House). Duet partners include the beloved Patti Russo and his daughter Pearl Aday.

Below is the first video from the album, proving at age 62, Meat still has a gift for the theatrics and a wicked sense of humor.

Go, buy the album now. There's a deluxe version with 12 classic songs including Bat, 2 Out of 3, and Anything for Love.

GO. BUY. Enjoy "LosAngeloser"

Day 8: Percolating Bats in Heaven and Hell

In spite of the litigious, toxic, and tempestuous relationship with Steinman, Meat Loaf knew that his fans were waiting for a follow-up to Bat Out of Hell. Yes, he'd released four studio albums since then. Yes, he'd included a Steinman song here and there, but he knew from touring and from listening to his fans that while his independent efforts were good, they just weren't Bat-tastic.

He also knew Steinman required a lot of creative creation time.

When Steinman extended the figurative nutter branch and invited Meat over to his cave, they sang and played the old songs, rehashed the fonder memories, and tentatively agreed that maybe it was time to fully collaborate once again on Bat II.

Meat was between label deals at the time. Not unlike the first attempts to sell Bat I, he met with resistance from execs. Not unlike the first time, much of that resistance was due to Steinman. No business wanted the burden of legal time-bomb of a Meat and Steinman mash-up. Additionally, Steinman commanded quite a bit of money for his hits, because when he finally birthed a musical baby and sold it off to the right adoptive parent, it was pure money for everyone involved.

Two of the best artists for Steinman's dramatic songs were Meat Loaf and Bonnie Tyler, so in 1989, Columbia records released the greatest Steiman hits compilation album Heaven and Hell. It kept both artists in the spotlight while Steinman skulked into his dark lair to create his next evil masterpiece.

Meat Loaf knew, "Heaven Can Wait"

Day 9: Do You Want a Slurpee with Your Meat Loaf?

Meat Loaf released four studio albums in five years, each with a painful reminder of why rushing to market was a bad idea. Unfortunately, he had one more album left on his contract with Arista. It may have taken time and misery to learn some lessons, but he'd learned. With the help of Leslie's brother, in 1987, he delivered Live at Wembley, and wrapped up the final obligation.

He kept touring in support of Blind Before I Stop, still seeking to return to the packed theaters of Bat I, but while he was big in the UK, the US wasn't giving him the love. He played bars so small that the gear, let alone the band, couldn't fit on the stage. Heck, he'd even been booked into a 7-11. He wasn't too proud to turn down a gig, but he drew the line at performing next to the Slurpee Machine.

It just wasn't "Masculine."

Day 10: Blind Before I Stop

September 1, 1986, Meat Loaf's fifth studio album, Blind Before I Stop hit the streets, disco beats and all. Some critics hailed this album as Meat finally embracing the "sound of the eighties."

Erm, riiiiiight. 

Top of the Charts in the fall of 1986? "Stuck with You" by Huey Lewis & the News; "Dancing on the Ceiling" by Lionel Richie; "Friends and Lovers" by Gloria Loring & Carl Anderson; "Take My Breath Away" by Berlin; and "Walk This Way" by Run D.M.C.

Chalking another release up to lessons learned, Meat went on tour for his final album with Arista. Meanwhile, dreams of releasing that next great theater-rock epic taunted him. By now he'd been in the business for twenty years. He knew what his fans really wanted because it was the same damn thing he'd been after from the beginning. One thing was for certain, he wasn't going away.

They were going to have to come and lock him up. 

'Cause this boy, Mama, just wanna rock.

Day 12: Is Nothing Sacred Anymore?

When it came to the important women in Meat Loaf's life, he did not win the Stand By Me award. His mother had been the voice of caring and reassurance that had been the stark contrast to his father. She had gotten sick while he was in high school and by the time he hit twenty, she was in a hospital, tented and sucking down oxygen through a tube. Although and because Meat adored her, he ran like hell from Texas to California. He couldn't cope with watching the cancer ravage her body. At one time, she had been as robust as her son, but when the disease held her, she was nothing more than a waif.

He Ran.

When his career splattered he met and married Leslie. She caught him when fell, trembled with him when he lost everything, and suffered as her mind joined his on the fritz. Meat recovered. He turned to his career. Recorded some albums, turned his anger outward, and slowly rebuilt his career with Leslie's help. But when Leslie fell to her lowest point and needed him most...

He Ran.

When he returned from the Bad Attitude Tour, he didn't go home to his wife and children. He holed up in NYC with random chick he'd met in Australia. He knew Leslie was falling apart and he was terrified he'd join her back at the bottom, back in the madness. Leslie threatened to divorce him.

He Ran. Home. 

He fell on knees, admitted his stupidity and professed his undying love. At the end of his long-winded (undoubtedly theatrical) confession, he asked if he could come home. One word was all she said. Yes.

 Is Nothing Sacred Anymore? Well, yes. Yes it was.

For the time being.

Day 14: Meat at Abbey Road

A year after Midnight at the Lost and Found released, Meat Loaf escaped from the relentless day-to-day torments by heading to England to record at the famous Abbey Road Studios. His search for a producer netted great talent, but not one that "got" Meat's theatrical approach to recording an album.

It's like a train wreck repeating itself...

Paul Jacobs and Sarah Durkee supplied most of the songs for his next endeavor; yet, in spite of their tempestuous relationship, Meat asked Steinman to contribute too.

Chug-a-chug-a-chug-a-chug-a...

Steinman needed a few years to come up with new material for him, time that Meat didn't have. He accepted another legal and label slap up side the head when he recycled Steinman's "Surf's Up" and "Nowhere Fast."

CHOO-CHOO!

Meat was in a rush to put Midnight behind him and get something more in line with his vision out to his fans, but, clearly, he hadn't really learned the lessons from his last two albums.

One could say Meat Loaf was going "Nowhere Fast"

Day 15: Midnight at the Lost and Found

Meat Loaf was in the studio attempting to write his own songs and was fortunately rescued by Steve Buslowe.  Still, Meat was in a funk about his life and his new album. He'd presented the next batch of songs to the PtB at Epic and they picked a few of his and handed him a few others and sent him off to record. His heart wasn't in it. The characters didn't appear. He didn't  stick around to see what was in store for the final production, he was too worried about his new family.

His family was under constant attack by the public who had once embraced him...and not in a lovey fan-obsessed way. He, Leslie and their daughters moved out of NYC to a bedroom borough. It didn't take long for the media to release not only pictures of their house, but their address. Problems showed up at their door. Being flat broke and hounded didn't give them choice of running away. They stayed. They coped. Meat dealt with the stress through softball, he even coached Little League and encouraged girls to do the unthinkable and join the team.

May 1, 1983, Epic released Midnight at the Lost and Found sans Steinman and sans the Richard Corben art on the cover. There are those who would like to forget this album ever existed. That would be unfortunate. While the songs aren't the ten minute Steinman rock-sagas, there are some definite keepers. However, the album tanked commercially. Keep in mind 1983 was the year of "Every Breath You Take" by the Police, "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson, and "What a Feeling (Flashdance)" by Irene Cara...oh, and yes, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler and written by Steinman.

The title track pretty much proves that Meat could make it without Steinman. 

It was all about the character of the song.

Day 16: The Wolf at Meat's Door

It's the early 1980s and Meat Loaf was being eviscerated by anyone and everyone who had made an investment in his career. Fortunately, he still had a recording contract. One that required another album for Epic. Meat showed up with a selection of songs. The label PtB shook his head and strongly suggested that Meat write his own songs for the release.

Write? Write his own songs? 

Erm.

Meat's crumbling ego had already accepted song writing wasn't his forte. His career as an actor and a singer was based on bringing the words and music he had been provided to life, imbuing them with sentiment and meaning. His job was to pull the audience into the experience, not to score the production. He admitted then (and still admits today) that he's not really a singer either; he's an actor who happens to sing. Getting a track "right" required multiple takes until he found the character, the persona who owned the song. Once he became the character, he understood the lyrics and knew if the music sounded "right." Like an editor with a manuscript, he had an instinct for what worked. He could scream about point out the flaws in arrangements, demand suggest transition changes, even tweak a lyric here or there.

Write? Write his own songs?

Ack.

Given his history as a control freak, one might think he'd have been all over that suggestion. Nope. Not so much. There was a certain logic behind writing his own songs seeing as how his former songwriter was suing his ass, ensuring Epic wanted nothing to do with him, and handing out hits like "Making Love Out of Nothing at All" to Air Supply and "Total Eclipse of the Heart" to Bonnie Tyler.

Meat went home and asked his wife what the hell he should do.. 

Leslie looked around the devastation caused by greed and, with a wee bit of anger, they wrote, 

"The Wolf at Your Door."

Wolf At Your Door - Meat Loaf

Day 19: From Rock Star to Roadie

After the Woodstock recording disaster, Meat, Leslie, and Pearl (Meat's very young stepdaughter) retreated to NYC. Meat couldn't handle the artifice of fame and coke wasn't helping. He only left his apartment to play baseball in the park, desperately seeking to reconnect with those who had known him before Bat became a phenomenon. He wanted to believe that he hadn't changed,  that he was the same "huckleberry" from Texas, that he hadn't let all the adulations go to his head.

Reality is such a cackling bitch.

Eventually, he surfaced to take his new bride to hang with two of his friends who had remained constant through the upheaval and their wives - Billy Joel and John Belushi. One was a great influence. One, well, one had very tragic ending. When the challenge of "who can do the most coke" was issued and accepted, there wasn't much further to fall. Yes, yes, Meat Loaf won that sad challenge.

So, what does a multi-platinum recording artist do when he can't sing? He fell back to his other great talent. ACTING.

Bands Make It Rock. Roadies Make it Roll.

Roadie

The Story of a Boy and His Equipment

Meat had the lead as Travis, a MacGyver of roadies. The comedy was filled with cameos of music stars - Debby Harry (aka Blondie), Alice Cooper, Roy Orbinson, Hank Jr., etc. It was a farce, mockery, a comedy that could have done well. It opened the same day as the Blues Brothers. Kind of explains what happened there.

Day 20: Coke and Nutters, It's What's for Breakfast

It's the classic rock story: Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll. Meat Loaf was newly married, upping his cocaine intake, and being demoted to mere vocalist on his next album. Every VH1 Behind the Music describes what happens when drugs take over a career. In Meat's case, a natural inclination toward violent outbursts mixed with an appetite suppressing stimulant created:

Nutters Out of Hell

The Megalomaniac Duo of Meat & Steinman was rapidly crumbling. The kicker came when Meat's voice crapped out. He couldn't hit a high note. He couldn't add vibrato.

The massive musical Meat couldn't sing. 

That's one hell of an ego check.

For Christmas 1979, Steinman gave Meat the heave-ho. Steinman couldn't stand the thought that the songs over which he had slaved wouldn't be released just because Meat was a drug addict nutball who had no medical reason preventing him from singing. Steinman had a chance to prove that Meat was just the vocalist, that their fame and success were due to his songs, his genius. Hell, Steinman would show all those who'd snubbed him, all those who'd given Meat the recognition that Steinman deserved. Steinman decided *he* would provide the vocals for Bad for Good.

I'll let you decide who did it better.

Jim Steinman: "Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through" from  

Bad for Good

Meat Loaf: "Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through" from

Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell

[Yes, that *is* Angelina Jolie in the video]

Day 21: In Twenty-One Days, Meat Will Own Your Heart

Nutter Loaf dragged himself out of NYC and up to Woodstock in February 1979, to begin work on the follow-up to Bat I, Bad for Good. The label, being a business, wanted a "ditto" album and they wanted it yesterday. Erhm, hello? Bat I took five years to make. It was still in heavy rotation on the music circuit. Meat suspected he and Steinman were dancing that fine line of market over-saturation, and he was stridently opposed to putting out copy album. However, by the time he showed up in Woodstock, Steinman and Rundgren were already working on the new album. He voiced his concerns, pushed back on segues, melodies, and entire songs that were just ... wrong. His one-time co-conspirators in greatness made him feel relegated to "just the vocalist." 

You do recall he's a wee-bit of a control freak, yes?

If ever there was a time to let the Meaty madness rage without interference, that would have been a good time.  

Wuv, twue wuv, doesn't believe in convenience.

Meat needed a place to live during the Bad for Good debacle. Enter the beautiful beatnik single-mother who is the go-to gal for all the rock stars in residence at Woodstock. Leslie Edmonds cooked, cleaned, babysat, and pretty much did whatever grunt work would help her pay the bills, including showing the newcomers around so they could find a place to live. Eventually, she became an assistant studio manager. Yep, that still required a lot of grunt work.

Twenty-one days after they met, Meat married Leslie atop a snow-capped mountain with a doddering old priest who caught his robes on fire during the ceremony. Crepe arms raised, oblivious to the fire licking up his robes, the priest appeared very much like a fiery Bat Out of Hell. It's a good omen that will bond Meat and Leslie for twenty-odd years.

It takes longer than that for Meat Loaf to eventually release the song "Bad for Good" on  

Bat Out of Hell III: The Monster is Loose.

Day 22: Cracked Loaf -- Nutters and Ego Don't Mix

Meat Loaf has something of a ...

temper. 

If you read his autobiography, To Hell and Back, it's easy to trace the roots to his drunkard dad who actually tried to kill Meat with a knife. Meat owns up to be a hard-core item thrower during his fits of rage. Tantrums are usually borne of not getting one's way, and for a guy who held tight control over Bat I's creation (sharing control only with Steinman who is more neurotic than Meat), it doesn't require a stretch of imagination to see how sudden fame and success churned the violent nutter-butter. Bat I topped US and international charts within months. Everybody wanted a slice of the Loaf, regardless of time. Mornings and days were consumed by interviews and promos. Nights were all about performances and fans.

Lawzy, lawzy, duck and run. It's Meat Loaf-zilla! 

~ROAR~

Early into Bat's rise, Steinman bailed on  the promotions for the album. He loved the success, but not the dearth of recognition that started with his name as a footnote on the album cover, being ignored by fans and press, and then playing third wheel to Meat and Karla on the junkets. Keep in mind, Steinman always wanted the album to be "Jim Steinman presents Bat Out of Hell" just like the soundtrack for a musical. He left Meat to shoulder the stresses of fame alone, some have said in hopes that Meat would implode.

Ego is a wicked bitch when everyone's nutters.

Meat kept running at full tilt. The wild man on stage quickly lost his private times to decompress, to let go of the actor's alternate persona. The guy who threw himself into performances so completely that he fainted and had to be resuscitated multiple times during a show maintained that artificial energy day-in and night-out for a year.

The million sticky fingers of success pulled at Meat until he finally cracked--full on, top of the Empire State Building ready to jump--cracked. Friends talked him down. Soon after, the PtB pulled him off the road. He holed up for a month in a hotel room, never leaving until staff broke down the door. He had to grab hold of an elusive thread of sanity and start work on the next album.

Fans were like puppies that always followed him around. 

Some were as faithful as a puppy. 

Meat couldn't let them down. 'Cause he loved them, my oh my.

River Deep, Mountain High

Day 23: For Cryin' Out Loud, You Finally Love Meat

Meat Loaf and company have been on the Bat I tour for a few months when they're invited to play the CBS/EPIC convention. It's a BFD where all the execs and all artists on the labels are there. It's a chance to rub elbows. It's a chance for the small/newly released bands to succumb to fanboy/fangurl status.

Meat and Co are the last to play. "For Crying Out Loud" spills from the stage. Meat, as always, pours his heart into the nine minute song. His eyes are closed as pure emotion rips that final note from his lips.

Silence.

Not a cough. Not a clap. Not a screech of a moving chair.

Meat's positive the audience has run for the hills. That at some point during this heart-wrenching ballad the PtB once again failed to get it. They've bailed. Gone home to luxury homes. Established groups are rockin' out in their swank hotel rooms.

Finally, sick with another failure, he opens his eyes.

Everyone is there. Everyone is staring agog. One hoot. One holler. The audience of his peers and pockets erupts in applause. Not just any applause. The kind that whistles. The kind that drives people to chairs and table tops. The kind that rushes the stage when Meat and Co. kick off an encore.

For Cryin' Out Loud, they love Meat, they really love him.

Day 25: Three Card Meaty

To say Meat Loaf "fudged" a few facts about Bat Out of Hell during its creation would be akin to calling him a "strapping young man." Meat & Steinman were tromping around NYC trying to get a record deal, performing live for various mukety-mucks and whosey-whats only to be tossed out on their rears.

Then came Todd Rundgren who fell on the floor laughing when exposed to the glory of Bat Beginnings. He was in love with audacity of it. Rundgren signed up to produce the album while Meat and Steinman finagled a contract with RCA (Card #1). In 1976, the threesome cut tracks with members of the E Street Band and Rundgren's band Utopia. Then Rundgren had to go on international tour to promote his own album. He departed with the words no artist likes to hear, "So where's the money?"

Enter Card #2. Random guy who owns a slew of truck stops makes an "investment" and buys out Meat's contract with RCA. (Hey, truckers need good rock and roll too). Tracks keep getting cut, progress continues until...well, where's the distribution avenue? You know, that pesky "label"?

They managed an audience with Warner Brothers (Card #3). The whole gang is there, Meat, Steinman, Ellen, a few backup singers. They're ripping up the performance, but instead of "sign here" they're told "get the eff out." Turns out Steinman, with his infinite ability to attract friends, had auditioned for the Warner execs on a previous project and had so offended them, that no way, no how were they ever going to get behind anything with Steinman's taint on it.

Go Steiny.

Push is coming to shove. They're running out of options. They've been tossed out by pretty much everyone.
But they have an album. Completed. Ready to ship.

Hiding up Meat's sleeve is the Queen of Hearts, Cleveland International Records, a sub of Epic, a label with one artist on its roster. CIR waffles, maybe Bat is right for them, maybe not. Three Card Monte Meaty begins to play. Keep your eye on the cards, ladies and gents. Where has she gone? Is she on the left? Is she on the right? Ho! There she is!

October 21, 1977, Bat Out of Hell is released to such glorious industry fan fare that the head of Epic Marketing ... 

barfed in his hands.

Day 26: The Belushi Connection

1975, Steinman wrote "You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth" and "Bat Out of Hell."  Meat Loaf was so gung-ho about his partnership with Steinman that he vowed to stop doing musical theater and devote his time to getting a record deal.

Or not.

The National Lampoon Show was opening on Broadway and they needed an understudy for John Belushi.

Wait, you can see it can't you? 

Wild and Crazy John Belushi the Comedic Actor

Wild and Crazy Meat Loaf the Musical Actor 

Heck, yeah. I wish some genius somewhere had cast those two in the same film. Alas, no luck. They wouldn't be united (somewhat) on screen until March 25, 1978, when Belushi and Gilda Radner brought Meat Loaf on SNL to perform "All Rev'd Up and No Place to Go." 

As it turned out, Belushi never missed a performance, so Meat was never needed; however, during Lampoon, Meat met Ellen Foley, his sometimes girlfriend and the original duet partner for "Paradise" [although it is her voice you hear on the original "Paradise" video, the girl appearing with Meat is not Ellen or Patti...it's Karla DeVito]. Ellen joined Meat and Steinman on the tour-de-force of auditions for record labels. There was no demo for Bat I, Meat firmly believed one had to experience the songs live to really get them...songs that lasted TEN minutes. TEN. Even by today's standards, those are some long-ass songs. Over and over they were rejected. Sometimes in horror sometimes in laughter, but never once as badly as the interview with Clive Davis...an interview Meat believed canceled because someone named Clive had called and told him it had be rescheduled. 

Someone who was a spectacular mimic. 

Someone name John Belushi.

Someone who'd taken the words right out of Clive's mouth.

Day 28: Hot Patootie, Bless My Transvestite Soul

When last we saw our hero, Meat Loaf, he was doing the wild and crazies up on musical stage...and he still is. Off-Broadway shows lead him down to Washington D.C. to work on a failed production of Rainbow. Fortunately, that gig ran out of money and sent him back to NYC just in time to answer the proverbial call--the one where a random voice said, "Hey, we're doing this science fiction musical call Rocky Horror Show and we want you to be in it."

Science Fiction Musical?!? He's all over it. Meat moves back west, gets cast in two parts as Eddie and Dr. Scott. After being stunned to fleeing from dress rehearsal when Tim Curry first appeared in fishnets and garters (imagine a big Texas boy shakin' his head, insisting he ain't gonna do no damn drag show), Meat eventually embraced the hilarity of it all, and even squeezed himself into a pair of stockings and platforms for the show, but RHS wasn't without a problem here or there for our hero.

In the musical version, they stuff Eddie in an ice box and Rocky is born atop it. One minor problem: All that Meaty lovin' doesn't do "stuffed in a box"...not without losing his mind. So vents, pipes, and plexiglass later, our delivery boy manages to keep it together for the scene. He does it well enough that when the time for the movie version to come into being rolls around, the Powers-That-Be keep Meat around for his first movie role.

Whatever happened to that Saturday night? Well, hot patootie, bless my soul, WE ALL love that rock and roll.

Day29: More Than You Deserve

Meat Loaf & Stoney didn't last long on the Motown label, but the two good friends joined up with Jack Wade and hit the road opening for Rare Earth. Meat livened up the stage (and the pit) with his grandios antics...the kind of antics that are common place for punk bands these days, but back then, not so much. 300lbs of Meat ran through audiences, egged on call & response, and generally had a big sweaty blast.

When that gig ended, he got a call from the producers of Hair. They were putting on an "All-Star" version in NYC. A few disasters with the building structure and a hostile cast sent Meat on his way to Pittsburgh, then Toronto, then Buffalo productions of the musical that paid his bills. This strange circuitous path led him to one of the most important introductions of his life:

Enter Jim Steinman

Meat auditioned for the musical "More Than You Deserve." It's written by Steinman and Michael Weller.

"I sang 'I'd Love to be as Heavy as Jesus,' and Steinman was the only one in the room. ... Now that I know Steinman really well, I know why he was the only one in the room. He doesn't like anyone to invade his space." -- From To Hell and Back: an Autobiography

He played the part of the loon Rabbit, a solider who "helps" his buddies get "home" by blowing them to Timbuktu. Meat latched on to the insanity of the character, a character whose song would later be included on Meat's 1981 Dead Ringer album.

Day 30: Meat Loaf & Motown

Everyone knows Meat Loaf does double duty as a singer and an actor. (If you didn't, stick with me during this countdown and you'll learn). It wasn't a case of "well, now that I'm a big name singer, let's see if I can cross-over to acting." Nope, he's done double duty from the get-go.

During the short years of the bands Meat Loaf Soul, Popcorn Blizzard, and the Floating Circus, Meat Loaf and his various bandmates had a stint of being the house band at the Grand Ballroom in Detroit (because paychecks are good things). Bands such as the Kinks and the Who were backed by Meat Loaf & Co.

Imagine: Meat Loaf and Roger Daltrey on the same stage. Both vocal powerhouses. Both backed by the song-writers who gave them the lyrics that changed their lives -- Jim Steinman on piano & Pete Townsend on Guitar-- introducing the supergroup:

  Whose Meat

(aaahahah, I kill me.)

Meat Loaf  has long admitted his heart belongs to acting. In hindsight, it can be no surprise that he left Detroit and returned to LA to make his next big splash in the musical Hair. It might be a little surprising that he returned to Detroit continue in Hair. What is the fascination this Texan has with Motor City? Nothing overly complicated. One friend/former bandmate had Detroit roots, roots that offered a paycheck. This time in Detroit, Meat and one of his co-performers snared the attention of a Motown producer. Though production was rumored to be run-of-the-music-mill, an album is still an album. And come on, who doesn't love a promotions department that thinks it's a great idea to use lines such as, "It takes two ears to handle this whopper," and "Plumps when they're cookin.'" (Psst, promo guy, put down the acid and back away slowly from the careers you are destroying.)

Watch out Carpenters, it's 1971 and here come Stoney & Meatloaf

(No, not a typo, Motown really released the album with his name as a compound word)

((Little Feat fans, yes, this is *that* Stoney ))

Day 31: Meat Loaf Popcorn Blizzard

Hello. My name is "KAK" and I harbor fangurl lurv for Meat Loaf.

May 11, 2010 his latest studio album drops (it's already released in the UK, lucky bastards). You can read the story of the album (no, not how it came to being, but as in there's a hero and a plot kind of story) by clicking on the album pic.

For the next 31 days, I'm going to drag you, my faithful few, back through time to enjoy the undeniable powerhouse of Meat Loaf's soaring vocals. I dare you to not get a chill.

In the Beginning, there was Popcorn Blizzard, circa 1967. Tell me that doesn't make you wanna stop by Dairy Queen on the way to the movie theater.