Name one pop musician who has been consistent yet unpredictable, pushed the envelope while producing self-contained and explicable songs and albums, and kept his or her cool while retaining the respect of peers and followers alike. Exactly, it’s impossible. Even those who could do it in a bubble are stuck with the requirements and restrictions of the market. It’s difficult for any fan to loyally stick by their hero for decades at a time, but it’s worse for Rundgrenites. For here is a man who can seemingly write a melodic masterpiece in an instant — but who is as likely, however, to produce a mental piece of zen meandering, just for the exercise. He seems, in fact, often very keen to shake us off the scent; a Todd Rundgren fan has to be ready to be something of a masochist, as well as the kind of devotee who might be willing to at very least sniff a bit of grape Flavor Aid laced with arsenic along the way, if not necessarily cross over to the other side.