It is the final track on an album that wasn't supposed to exist. In 1977, the music industry was obsessed with the slick, four-on-the-floor thump of disco or the jagged, three-chord snarl of punk. Then comes this 350-pound guy from Dallas and a songwriter who looks like a vampire, handing over a record that sounds like Richard Wagner hijacked a Greaser’s motorcycle.
"For Crying Out Loud" is the closer. It's nine minutes of pure, unadulterated emotional exhaustion.
Honestly, if you've ever sat in your car in a dark parking lot just staring through the windshield while the heater hums, you know this song. You don’t just listen to it; you survive it. It starts with a piano that sounds like a lonely heartbeat and ends with a full orchestral breakdown that feels like a building collapsing in slow motion.
The Song That Made Clive Davis Look Foolish
Let’s talk about the audacity of this track. Before Bat Out of Hell became one of the best-selling albums in history—we’re talking 43 million copies—Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf were getting laughed out of boardrooms. Clive Davis famously told Steinman he didn't know how to write a song.
He was wrong.
📖 Related: Wrong Address: Why This Nigerian Drama Is Still Sparking Conversations
While most of the album is high-octane theatrical rock, meatloaf songs for crying out loud serves a different purpose. It’s the "hangover" after the party of "Paradise by the Dashboard Light." It’s the moment of terrifying vulnerability. Steinman once said it was the best song he ever wrote, and Meat Loaf considered it his finest vocal performance.
You can hear why. The dynamics are insane. He starts in a whisper—literally a breathy, fragile rasp—and by the seven-minute mark, he is screaming at the heavens with enough lung power to power a small city.
Why the Lyrics Aren't Just About Love
There is a huge debate among fans about what the hell this song is actually about. Some people hear the lines about "serving" and "holding" and think it’s a religious hymn. Others point to the "faded Levis bursting apart" and realize, yeah, Jim Steinman was definitely writing about sex.
It’s both. It’s the sacred and the profane smashed together.
👉 See also: Who was the voice of Yoda? The real story behind the Jedi Master
- The Setting: The song mentions a "chilly California wind" and "sinking in the sand." This is actually a leftover from a 1975 musical called Kid Champion starring a young Christopher Walken.
- The Transition: It moves from a guy who is "emotionally unavailable" to someone who realizes his partner is the only thing keeping him from drifting into the abyss.
- The Literal Meaning: Steinman flipped the idiom. Usually, "for crying out loud" is just something you yell when you're annoyed. Here, he means "I love you because you are able to cry out loud—to be honest and vulnerable when I couldn't be."
The Recording Nightmare at Bearsville
This wasn't a "plug in and play" session. Todd Rundgren, the wizard who produced the album, had to figure out how to capture this beast. They recorded it at Bearsville Studios in Woodstock.
Rundgren brought in Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg from Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band. If the piano feels like Born to Run but on Broadway, that’s why. But the real heavy lifting came from the orchestration.
Steve Margoshes handled the orchestral arrangement, and it’s massive. There are moments where the strings are so dense they almost swallow Meat Loaf’s voice, but he just keeps pushing through. It took dozens of mixes to get it right. Steinman was a perfectionist who wanted the "Wall of Sound" effect, and Rundgren, ever the pragmatist, just wanted to finish the damn thing.
The result is a track that doesn't have a chorus. Think about that. A nine-minute radio staple with no traditional chorus. It just builds. And builds. And builds.
✨ Don't miss: Not the Nine O'Clock News: Why the Satirical Giant Still Matters
The Physical Toll of Performing It
Meat Loaf didn't just sing; he acted. Every time he performed "For Crying Out Loud" live, it looked like he was having a medical emergency.
He would stumble around the stage, sweating through his tuxedo shirt, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He frequently used oxygen tanks off-stage during the Bat Out of Hell tour. You can't fake that kind of intensity. In the 1978 live footage from El Mocambo, you can see the absolute toll it takes on him. His eyes are rolled back; he’s essentially in a trance.
It’s the song that separates the casual fans from the die-hards. If you like "I'd Do Anything for Love," you're a fan. If "For Crying Out Loud" makes you misty-eyed in a grocery store aisle, you're a disciple.
Essential Listening for the Uninitiated
If you’re diving into the world of meatloaf songs for crying out loud, don't just stop at the studio version.
- The Original 1977 Studio Track: The gold standard. Listen for the moment at 6:30 where the drums finally kick in for real.
- Live at El Mocambo (1978): Raw, dangerous, and slightly out of tune in the best way possible.
- The 1994 History Live Version: A bit more polished, showing how his voice matured into a darker, heavier instrument.
Basically, this song is the reason we love melodrama. It’s a reminder that sometimes, being "too much" is exactly the right amount. It’s okay to be over the top. It’s okay to scream. It’s okay to cry out loud.
To truly appreciate the craftsmanship, listen to it on a pair of high-quality headphones. Pay attention to how the arrangement shifts from a simple piano melody to a symphonic explosion. Notice the way Meat Loaf’s breathing is left in the mix during the intro—it makes the whole experience feel uncomfortably intimate. Once you've finished the track, go back and listen to "Heaven Can Wait" to see how Steinman used similar ballad structures but with a completely different emotional payoff.