Album Vs Album: Bat Out Of Hell vs Bat Out Of Hell II

Over the last thirty years, Meat Loaf has been one of the few constants in my life. Whatever else may be going on, Jim Steinman's song and Meat's voice have always been there for me. I suppose "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through" was more truth than my younger self had ever assumed. For personal reasons, I have found myself listening to more Meat Loaf recently than usual, which I realize is not a good sign for where my head is at right now.

That leads to the inevitable question for me; which album is the superior one, "Bat Out Of Hell" or "Bat Out Of Hell II"?

I've always had a reflexive answer to that question, but is my gut instinct right? That's what we're going to find out today.

"Bat Out Of Hell": The album that changed music, in its own way. Meat Loaf's debut album came out of nowhere, sounded like nothing else, and led to a host of people who would always be looked at with side-eye for liking such a ridiculous sound. Meat was a larger-than-life figure, and his music fit the bill. Jim Steinman found a unique blend of 50s rock and roll, Wagnerian opera, and Broadway cheese. We would learn down the line that it was Steinman who was the key to all of this working, as even the people who tried to copy his sound were unable to find quite the same sarcastic magic he made so effortless.

The album's highlights are undeniable. The title track was written to be the ultimate motorcycle song, and it absolutely is. Nine minutes of guitar solos (and guitars that sound like revving engines), pounding pianos, a narrative rollercoaster, and Meat's soaring voice, is a song that broke the rules of the time. It was a progressive theater song, which is something I'm not sure existed anywhere else. Meat's belting at the end of the song is the moment we know there's something truly special going on. "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad" is the perfect love song for people who don't understand love. Steinman writes in pure sarcasm about icicles and Cracker Jack, drilling for oil on city streets, and riffing on Elvis to tell us love will not save the day.

Then there is the album's centerpiece, "Paradise By The Dashboard Light". It is an entire musical in its own right, telling us the story of how being 'proper' often puts us in positions we can't get out of. When sex becomes intertwines with marriage, the song blossoms into one of the greatest bits of writing I've ever encountered. Meat singing that he's a man of honor, but he wishes for the end of time so his promises can be voided is so hyperbolic you laugh, but also so desperately honest you cry. I don't know if Steinman intended to contemplate the idea of permanence, but the song asks us the question of whether maintaining one mindset forever is more virtuous than doing what is necessary to be happy.

"Bat Out Of Hell II": The sequel is bigger, in many ways. It is longer, even more sarcastic, and clearly the product of two men who were going to fall on their swords. "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" is one of the most overblown songs in history, and teased us with the mystery of what 'that' was. I have talked several times about the answer to that question, which fits into the same stunted view of love Steinman has always traded in. Steinman goes on to write lines telling us we can shove the future up our ass, and professing his love for The Three Stooges. No other album Steiman's songs appear on has ever revealed as much about him as this one.

A significant portion of the album is recycled, but when you're upcycling your best music, I don't consider that a problem. The spoken word piece is classic, and melodies from the verses of "It Just Won't Quit" and "Out Of The Frying Pan" are some of Steinman's best. Then there is "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through", which sums up everything there is to know about the music. Steinman writes about the power of music, its ability to take us out of the moment and put up walls between us and our demons. Music can heal us, it can tap into pieces of ourselves we don't have access to when merely thinking. The drummer is indeed our pacemaker sometimes.

The Comparison: So which of these albums is better? That's actually a difficult question to answer, because we once again run into the battle between highlights and consistency. The original album has more all-time highlights, while the sequel has less dips. When I listen to the original, I will occasionally skip "Heaven Can Wait" and "All Revved Up With No Place To Go" as being inessential, and I will almost always turn it off before "For Crying Out Loud", because the multiple false endings can be a bit much for me. It's a record with four absolute classics, and three songs that fill things out.

The sequel has less of those classics. "I'd Do Anything For Love" and "Rock & Roll Dreams" are among them, but the rest of the album falls into that tier just below. Steinman also stretches things a bit too far with extended outros, that bagpipe bit being the worst of them. Add in the instrumental piece, and there's nearly ten minutes of the album that could be trimmed to make it a more impactful listening experience. Brevity was never Steinman's forte, and it wouldn't feel like him if the album didn't test out patience a bit.

The Verdict: I'm calling this one a split-decision, which I realize is a bit of a cop-out. If I'm being honest, the better album is the original. I can't deny the highlights are better than anything the sequel has to offer. Those four songs are as good as anything Steinman ever wrote, or Meat ever sang. I can listen to them over and over again without ever getting tired of them. The sequel, though, is the album I feel more emotionally connected to. It was a matter of timing, but when I trace my own musical identity, "Bat Out Of Hell II" is the center of my universe.

So yes, I am saying "Bat Out Of Hell" is the better record, but "Bat Out Of Hell II" is my favorite. I'm too weak to choose, but that's fitting, isn't it?