I’ve been on a similar journey while writing this piece because I’ve always quietly liked Bat Out of Hell – more on the ‘quietly’ later. And I hate to say it, but they’re right, you can have too much of a good thing when something so meretricious and ubiquitous is played for the nth time that rebel voice in your head says no, you have now exceeded peak Meat, and it’s now time to forget about it again for a few years.
“Not Bat Out of Hell, again?” would be the sneery comment as someone passed my bedroom. In the latest in our series where we ask our writers to offer a case in the defence of the much-maligned, Max Ashworth offers an impassioned essay on Bat Out of Hell, the megalithic Meat Loaf album from the 1970s.
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