In a better time for the world, we would all have hit the karaoke bar tonight to mourn the late Jim Steinman. This man was more than the composer behind mega-bombastic hits by Meat Loaf, Bonnie Tyler, Celine Dion, Air Supply and so many others. He was the patron of karaoke singers. His idea of the perfect song was a powder keg that sparked, which anyone could hide out loud. Think of a karaoke anthem— “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” “Two of Three Are Not Evil,” “Paradise from the Dashboard Light,” “Everything Comes Back to Me Now” —and it’s likely that Steinman at written. Even before the art form was invented, he composed as if he saw everything coming. That’s why karaoke fans everywhere are sad for him tonight, even if we cry icicles instead of tears.
Steinman liked to be called “Little Richard Wagner” and always lived up to that legacy, in a rock style he called “mythical operatic.” He had something so beautifully democratic in his vision – these were songs that could turn anyone into a rock star. He lived to make you stronger. He made us meat loaves. So every karaoke devil owes him a debt of gratitude. His message was that we all have a Coupe De Ville hidden at the bottom of our Cracker Jack voicemail.
When I wrote a book about karaoke a few years ago, I named it after its most suitable karaoke hook: Turn Around Bright Eyes. While reading my book on the Upper West Side, a gentleman in the audience asked how I chose the title. I got into a long, unimpressed debate about Jim Steinman’s genius, about how he never got the proper respect, but about how his songs represented the populist spirit of karaoke. The guy later came to say hello – he turned out to be Steinman’s brother. He told me that Jim bought the book online (he saw the title and appreciated the tribute), but I ended up signing a copy for the man, truly a total eclipse for my heart as a fan. The first line of my book: “Once upon a time, I was collapsing. Now I always fall in love. “(This came from the Beta Band, which paid tribute to” The Hard One “in 1999)
His background was theater, but he found celebrities when he met a bar singer named Meat Loaf. Their blockbuster Bat Out of Hell it had the words on the front cover, “Songs by Jim Steinman” – an unheard of flex at the time. He enjoyed his role, as he said: “Dr. Frankenstein who created the character Meat Loaf “. This did not help his notoriously combative relationship with Mr. Loaf, who once threw a baby piano at him. “We are definitely influenced by Springsteen,” he said Rolling Stone in 1978. “But our songs are not as street-oriented as his. Our music looks more like a combination of Western story and Mechanical orange. ”
One of Steinman’s most famous songs was the hit Meat Loaf, “I would do anything for love, but I won’t do it.” However, his greatness was that he was always for that – no hook was too shameless, no concept too ridiculous. Want a Bonnie Tyler duet with Todd Rundgren called “Your Love is a Dirty Job, but Someone Has to Do It”? Want a Cher / Meat Loaf duet called “Dead Ringer For Love”? Do you want Billy Squier to do a rock-disco crossover that has become a notorious “Rock Me Tonight” career killer? He could do that.
But no matter who sang, you could always say it was a Steinman song. He wrote long, melodramatic piano ballads with a long title, a lyrical twist on a cliché, Phil Spector drums, backup choruses, and did I mention the key changes? As he said Melody Maker in 1989, “I’m very disappointed if people don’t like what they do, but I’m always convinced it’s okay. But I don’t feel like sitting down and saying, “OK, it’s time for another megalomaniacal epic here.” “
Steinman was infamously a Svengali studio that rarely gave up control of the singer. As he admitted, “There have been very few cases where I have been interested in what the artist thinks. I mean, I’m not interested in doing what Bonnie Tyler wants to do. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. He probably just wants to do the housework with the registration. He worked briefly with Def Leppard, calling them “interesting, in a way a scientist finds a really weird type of insect interesting.”
His only solo hit was “Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through,” with the lead vocals from Rory Dodd – you don’t know his name, but you’ve heard his voice all your life, since he’s the voice of the chirping choir. you, bright eyes! ”in“ Total Eclipse. ”Steinman released the 1979 solo opposite Bad for good, with the self-explanation “Love and death and an American guitar”. It should have been Meat Loaf’s second album, except that Meat blew his voice – or maybe he just got cold feet when he heard “Dance in My Pants”. After years of lawsuits (there would be many more where they came from), Steinman and Meat regrouped Bat Out of Hell 2: Back in Hell and Bat Out of Hell III: Monster Is Loose.
He could get hits for anyone, building one of the weirdest resumes in business, from Australian smoothies to air yacht-rock Air Supply (“Making Love Out of Nothing at All”) to gothic rockers from the Sea. Britain Sisters of Mercy (“This Corrosion”). He was obsessed with details. For Bat Out of Hell, even took Roy Bittan on piano and Max Weinberg on drums, for that E Street touch. When the piano plays with the six-note solo in “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad,” it’s the essence of Steinmanism.
His ultimate moment as a departed guy was the 1984 teen film Streets of Fire, with Diane Lane as a rock & roll outlaw. He wrote songs for her fictional band Ellen Aim and the Attacker, but they sounded great on MTV – especially her anthem “Tonight Is What Means to Be Young”. Bruce Springsteen did not let him use his “Streets of Fire” in the film, but only Steinman could take this as a personal challenge to reach his zenith of Bossness. The attackers were one of the best fake film bands of the ’80s, although, despite the efforts of Diane Lane, “the singer in a bright red shroud with a deep V in the back” failed to catch.
“Rolling Stone he always hated us, “he said. For once in his life, he was guilty of undervaluation: all critics hated his hits and prayed he would leave. Steinman inspired some of the worst reviews of the era, which he liked to quote. Paradoxically, the most noticeable homage written during his lifetime was a total elimination – Mitchell Cohen’s review of Meat Loaf’s second album, Dead Ringer, into the We create in 1981. Cohen did it not like the album, but accidentally summed up the composer’s unique vision. “No doubt Steinman sees his screenplays as part of a tradition that goes from ‘Summertime Blues’ to ‘Gee, Officer Krupke’ to ‘Jungleland'” – which actually highlights him. (Also adore these gentle words about the album’s lyrics: “The Typesetters Union just gave Steinman the 1981 Inver Sleeve Verbosity”)
Steinman had a surprisingly nice chemistry with the Mercy Sisters, producing their 80’s Gothic classics “This Corrosion”, “Dominion” and “More”. As singer Andrew Eldritch said, “This Corrosion” It is ridiculous. It should be ridiculous. It’s a ridiculous song. So I called Steinman and explained that we needed something that sounded like a Borgia-led disco party. And that’s what we have. ”
But there is a reason why “Total Eclipse of the Heart” will always be his most famous play. It seemed too much for radio in 1983, yet it has been ubiquitous on the airwaves since then. He has so many of his most memorable hooks: “Turn your eyes bright,” “I really need you tonight,” “From time to time, I’m falling apart.” He wrote it for Welsh singer Bonnie Tyler, whose only previous hit in the US was Rod Stewart’s 1978 sound, “It’s a Heartache”. But Steinman turned her into a rock diva. He thought her voice sounded like John Fogerty, which is why he made her cover Creedence’s “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” on her album, which was titled Less Steinman, Faster than night speed.
But it’s a song that anyone can sing and that’s why it’s still the best karaoke bar. Every karaoke room has it – it’s number 117498 from Sing Sing’s book on A Boulevard. (Even after a year of missing a microphone, I know the number by heart.) Like all his songs, he seems to have always wanted to sound best surrounded by a room full of strangers drunk at 2 in the morning
Steinman returned to the theater, writing the lyrics for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical They whistled in the wind. He did too Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, as well as the 1997 production Vampire Dance, which revived the “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” “Actually, I wrote this to be a vampire love song,” he said Poster at the moment. His original title was “Vampires in Love” because we were working on a musical of “Nosferatu”, the other great vampire story. If anyone listens to the lyrics, they’re like vampire lines. It’s all about darkness, the power of darkness and the place of love in the dark. ”
Jim Steinman brought darkness to life in his songs. Too bad we can’t honor him properly tonight by giving him belts in karaoke rooms. Instead, like Bonnie Tyler, we will have to be content with love in the dark. RIP to a true master of excess.