As far as time off work goes, my recent one-week sojourn went about as well as any previous. Did some reading, watched the wife cut the grass and got away to Orillia for two days of golf with my bro and the bro-in-law. Sandwiched between two rounds of the worst golf this side of your neighbourhood mini-putt was a trek to Casino Rama and a date with Meat Loaf. Alas, the 59-year-old rocker's vocal chords have taken a serious beating. While the Dallas-born rocker -- no, he wasn't on the grassy knoll that fateful November 1963 day but he did greet JFK at the airport -- of '70s rock music fame still sings of paradise, his dashboard light has lost its glow. To be fair, his landmark 1978 LP, Bat Out Of Hell, has sold more than 37 million copies and still sells some 200,000 copies annually. But anyone expecting the sweat-drenched animalism of that album from the current day Meat Loaf will be sorely disappointed. He has been downgraded to a casserole with appetizer status in the offing.
The good news is all that weight he lost is returning. Meat Loaf no longer requires regular hits of oxygen during his live show -- now that was worth the price of admission -- but he's heaving pretty good. Not unlike most aging rockers from that era, a great band and backing singers make up for a lot of shortcomings. But with a new album Bat Out Of Hell III -- What? There was a II? -- Meat is making some serious dough and selling out concerts, so I guess two out of three really ain't that bad.
1 comment:
Hmmm...meat...loaf
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