The classic album Todd Rundgren used to mock Bruce Springsteen: “This is a spoof”
It’s hard to imagine New Jersey heartland rocker Bruce Springsteen ever inspiring such loathing that he’d inspire an entire album largely shaped by creative vengeance.
Especially in his late 1970s pomp. Backed by his formidable E Street Band, ‘The Boss’ was heralded as Bob Dylan’s shining new successor, penning stirring tales of blue-collar romance and working man’s anthem rock that resonated with vast swathes of middle America, despite hailing from the East Coast.
Springsteen’s creative trajectory was impressive, boasting the likes of Born to Run and Darkness on the Edge of Town under his belt, orbiting the punk and new wave as an embraced fan, cutting Nebraska’s haunting folk statement, then exploding to MTV pop royalty with the gargantuan Born in the USA behemoth.
But not everybody saw what all the fuss was about. One such naysayer was progressive mage and techhead Todd Rundgren. A weaver of psychedelic double albums and possessed with a fierce intuition for the latest in both music and media, perhaps Springsteen’s retro aura rubbed Rundgren up the wrong way? “He was on the cover of Time magazine, as the ‘saviour of rock ‘n’ roll’, he bemoaned to Guitar World. “And I listened to these long songs, all about the ‘50s, and it’s like, ‘Wait a minute… we have to go through this again? The motorcycles? The switchblades? The leather jackets? We’re going to do this again? Oh, hell, no!’”
Rundgren sought a novel way to vent his displeasure at Springsteen’s supposed nostalgic rehash. As well as an acclaimed solo star, the former Nazz songwriter had begun to wield a respected studio reputation in the rock world, having produced records by Grand Funk Railroad, Badfinger, and the New York Dolls. Then the perfect project came along. Originally conceived as a rock opera dystopian tale of Peter Pan, Meat Loaf, and songwriter Jim Steinman’s theatrically blusterous Wagnerian pomp was one hell of a creative gamble, but Rundgren was swayed mainly by what he saw as a wry lampooning of The Boss’ gusto style.
“So, when I saw Meat Loaf, I said, ‘This is a spoof of Bruce Springsteen, and that’s why I’m doing it,’” Rundgren confessed. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”
History certainly was made. Eventually released in October 1977, Bat Out of Hell would sell ungodly levels of units, still standing as the ninth biggest-selling album of all time and virtually inhabiting its own unclassifiable genre in the rock world. Rundgren’s wry motivations weren’t enough to deter E Street Band members Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg from lending their respective piano and drumming chops, and guitarist Steve Van Zandt even negotiated the label deal with Epic Records’ Cleveland International Records subsidiary.
Can The Boss be heard in Meat Loaf’s first official debut? One listen to ‘Bat Out of Hell’ flashes a sped-up and comic turbo-charge of Springsteen’s Broadway bombast that absolutely flaunts like a smirking ‘Thunder Road’ dosed with extra gothic grandeur silliness. “I don’t think I mentioned it while I was making the record, but I’ve done it enough in public,” Rundgren confirmed. “Meat Loaf must have known that’s what I was thinking. I didn’t care if it succeeded or not; I just wanted to make fun of Bruce Springsteen!”
