It was a trip down memory lane for middle (aged) Australia on the weekend, when '70s icon of Wagnerian teen angst MeatLoaf played a sell-out Friday night show and a near-sell-out on Sunday. Fans hoping for an event to match the epic proportions of the album that started it all for the 'Loaf, 1977's Bat Out of Hell, would not have been disappointed. With 60 members of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra on hand (conducted by American Keith Leveson), as well as 30 members of the Australian Boys' Choir, the songs were presented with all the grandeur with which MeatLoaf's musical architect of Bat Out of Hell, Jim Steinman probably first imagined the songs in his head, in a show that stretched well over two hours. The big sound - aided by Meatloaf's own seven-piece band - also had the visuals to match, with costume changes, pyrotechnics and a good dose of theatrical farce, mainly between MeatLoaf and one of his two vixenish backing singers, Patti Rossi. For all the big numbers, Rossi was there as the 'Loaf's romantic foil, filling the role once played out onstage by Karla De Vito (and on record by Ellen Foley). The band was a tight unit, with a peroxided Billy Idol lookalike guitarist, Paul Crook, swapping leads with guitarist Randy Flowers (from ``our town", we were told). The set highlights were, predictably, the big numbers from the Bat Out of Hell album; Two Out of Three Ain't Bad, Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth and - without doubt the biggest number of the night - Paradise by the Dashboard Light, which all had the audience on their feet and singing along. Other well-received tunes were All Revved Up (With No Place to Go), Dead Ringer for Love, I'd Do Anything for Love (which featured Rossi singing from a levitating, violet couch) and, for the encore, the title track to Bat Out of Hell. Which made for a perfect note to end on. It was a bombastic show to the point of being almost overwhelming at times, but it was undeniably entertaining, and much of it done with - one suspected - tongue firmly in cheek. The 'Loaf may be saying goodbye to the stage, but like the man he is, is living it large to the end.
