One of Michael Aday’s most notable traits was not his singing range, nor his acting range. No, it would be his social anxiety. He had no idea what to do with himself in a social setting, felt that he led a boring life overall, and would freak out at parties. This, coming from the kid who played fullback for football teams. This, from the guy who was convinced that getting drilled in the head by a twelve-pound shot put was the reason he developed a three-octave vocal range. This, from the most unlikely of singers possible, a man who by his own admission basically fell into character to come out and perform operatic, bombastic rock music that felt as if you were somewhere between Broadway and a bordello on open mic night. He might have looked like Chris Farley’s muse at full tilt while doing so, but make no mistake, that man could belt it out as if he believed he could split the Earth by doing so.

Want to talk about his acting roles? Bring up Eddie from The Rocky Horror Picture Show to showcase his start, Red from Black Dog if you need a car-movie connection, or Robert Paulson from Fight Club. That’s just a scratch on Meat Loaf’s acting chops. But the music…

It takes a rare, raw talent to drag an audience deep into a dream world and just about force them to use their imagination to make the visuals work. Music videos pretty much eliminated that skillset for quite a few musicians. I’ve seen Meat Loaf music videos and performances. I remember when “I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” was freaking everywhere in 1994, and before I even saw the video I knew that the scene was gothic cathedral, candles, and a smoky, sultry woman to play the Esmerelda to Meat Loaf’s Quasimodo…there was no way in hell it could be anything else! He could break your heart, leave you lost in memory, rouse the rowdy good-time demon within you, all with a shift of his pitch. He performed as if his life depended on it, and if you somehow wonder if he left anything on the table when he was on stage, then just hit play below and listen as he and Ellen Foley (the woman who recorded the vocals) go back and forth. (And, for trivia’s sake, the woman in the video is Karla DeVito.)

Forty-plus years, iconic albums, epic performances…not bad for someone who had a nervous breakdown over the thought of stardom.

Rest in Peace.