The Dallas bruiser who thinks of himself as "little Marvin Lee Aday" (see track seven, Tear Me Down) releases albums only when he feels an attack of bellicose majesty coming on, and he has had a full seven years' recovery since the last one, so batten down the hatches.
Though he has parted company with songwriter/mentor Jim Steinman, Meat Loaf is still a master of upscaling the most transient emotions into full-blown popera, and there's no let-up on any of the 12 lengthy songs here.
His lung capacity as awesome as ever, he barely draws breath between bellows. It's all furiously tongue-in-cheek, naturally; on Forever Young he even snickers, "I'm gonna get me a real job."
But if Meat Loaf ever did, pop would lose one of its great tragicomic heroes.
