Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Lost Albums’ are arriving tomorrow and here’s our review. Yes, of all seven of them.

Bruce Springsteen writes a lot of songs.

That has been apparent over a 50-plus-year recording career that includes 19 albums of original material, stretching back to 1973’s Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J.

And Springsteen — who has been in the news with a Deliver Me From Nowhere biopic due in October and persistent criticism of President Donald Trump (leading Trump to label him “not a talented guy”) — has always made more music than he knows what to do with.

That’s where Tracks came in. Back in 1998, the four-CD box of leftovers, whose cover featured him lounging on a couch at the Main Point in Bryn Mawr, gathered up outtakes and B-sides that didn’t make the cut on his various album projects.

Tracks II: The Lost Albums, which comes out this week and contains a whopping 87 songs, is something else entirely. It consists of seven discrete and complete albums, recorded between 1983 and 2018.

They’re projects typically conceived of with a unified vision, musically and thematically, often recorded simultaneously with another album that did see the light of day.

For instance, in the mid-1990s, Springsteen worked on the bare bones The Ghost of Tom Joad in Los Angeles at the same time as he was recording Tracks II’s countrified, raucous Somewhere North of Nashville, often on the same day.

Tom Joad went out into the world; Nashville was locked away.

Until now.

Tracks II explores roads not taken, charting a shadow Springsteen career. It starts with LA Garage Sessions ’83, a double LP 18 song-set, cut contemporaneously with the Born in the U.S.A. sessions that turned Springsteen into a megastar.

It moves down highways and byways to include such excursions as the moody and mysterious Streets of Philadelphia Sessions and unexpected detours such as Twilight Hours, a Burt Bacharach- and Frank Sinatra-flavored set that, so far, is my favorite of the bunch.

Tracks II will be available in its entirety on all streaming services, and if you seek the physical product, it’s expensive. Needlessly so. The nine-LP box goes for $349.98, with nine CDs at $299.99. (Two of the sets are double albums, hence the extra discs.) A condensed double-LP 20-song Lost & Found version is $39.98.

So: Is Tracks II any good? Did the Boss make the right career choices? Let’s dig in, one album at a time.

This 18-song set splits the difference between the desolation of 1982’s Nebraska and stadium-size grandeur of 1984’s Born in the U.S.A.

It’s the Tracks II album with the most songs that have previously seen the light of day, with the Elvis Presley rewrite “Follow That Dream,” a “My Hometown” with added lyrics, and B-sides of “Johnny Bye-Bye” and “Shut Out The Light” (the latter a subtle, equally good companion to “Born in the U.S.A” about a returning Vietnam veteran).

“Sugarland,” a stark character study informed by the mid-’80s farming crisis, is another gem. And most harrowing and relevant is “The Klansman,” told from the perspective of a son who watches his father turn to a life of hate.

Referred to among cognoscenti as “the loops album,” this 10-song set takes as its starting point the ghostly 1993 song Springsteen wrote for Jonathan Demme’s AIDS drama Philadelphia.

Like that Oscar winner, its songs are built around moody drum loops and synthesizer washes, with added instrumentation from Zach Alford, Shayne Fontayne, and Tommy Sims from the non-E Street Band that Springsteen toured with in the ’90s.

Songs pick over entropic relationships and an absence of faith, with characters that feel incomplete while “Waiting On The End Of The World.” Springsteen was correct to conclude that it doesn’t feel finished, and decided to move on.

This is an intriguing one. Springsteen was commissioned to soundtrack a movie that was never released, which he’s still not revealing details of, preferring to let the music stand on its own. From instrumentals “The Desert” and “A Prayer By the River” and gently folkie ruminations like “Goin’ to California” and “Where You Goin’, Where You From” (which features his sons, Sam and Evan, on backup vocals), it sounds like a sunbaked spiritual Western, with a welcome blast of country twang.

A legit Springsteen country album that serves up the most fun to be had on Tracks II. The top notch title cut in which he sings “I lie awake in the middle of the night, thinking of the things I didn’t do right,” made it onto Western Stars, the 2019 album shaped by the Southern California sound of the early 1970s.

But Somewhere North of Nashville is rawer, with snarly Chuck Berry guitar; significant contributions from E Streeters Garry Tallent, Danny Federici, and Soozie Tyrell; and best of all, pedal steel guitarist Marty Rifkin, who makes “Under A Big Sky” soar.

Springsteen’s had a blast ripping through “Repo Man,” and if the lusty double entendre “Detail Man” is essentially a Mad Libs rewrite, who cares? Both are a hoot. Somewhere also includes Tracks II‘s lone cover, of Johnny Rivers’ 1966 hit “Poor Side of Town.” It’s perfectly suited to Springsteen in lonely working man mode, and it’s stunning that he didn’t put this one out.

Inyo dates to the 1990s and 2000s, taking its cues from the detailed, folkie narrative songs on Tom Joad and 2005’s Devils & Dust. But it’s also timely, centering on stories from both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border, with empathy for characters so often dehumanized in anti-immigrant rhetoric.

In “Adelita” and “The Lost Charro,” Springsteen is even accompanied by a mariachi band, and his cinematic songwriting is in effect on “One False Move,” with a title inspired by Carl Franklin’s 1991 noir masterpiece. Inyo is marred, though, by whispered vocals and a sluggish pace, with too many songs inspired by Los Angeles Times stories rather than personal experience.

Recorded at the same time as Western Stars, Twilight Hours is sophisticated pop that esteems Bacharach and Sinatra and — yes! — Andy Williams. It’s no wonder that Springsteen didn’t put it out. His fan base might have thought he was turning into an easy-listening sad sack.

But guess what? It suits him. Songs like “Sunday Love” and “Dinner at Eight” are patient, pensive melancholy romances. His vocals are relaxed and confident as melodies soar and strings kick in.

There’s more noir in “High Sierra,” exploring a familiar theme of a man who can’t escape a violent history that, Springsteen says, was inspired by Robert Mitchum in Out of the Past but reminded me of Burt Lancaster in The Killers. And the album ends in a four-song suite that recalls Sinatra’s sublimely bummed 1970 Watertown.

Fun fact: The lovely parental sentiment of “I’ll Stand By You Always” was written after the Boss read the Harry Potter books to his son Evan and was submitted but rejected for the movie for Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.

Tracks II wraps with an album that wasn’t conceived as such. It’s a grab bag, cobbled together from decades of source material. That’s OK, because the songs cohere, and it brings the box to a close with a jolt of energy.

Perfect kicks off with three songs cowritten with Springsteen’s Pittsburgh pal Joe Grushecky, who does the Boss a favor by getting him out of his own head and rock out. The songs yearn for sustaining strength, from the stately “Blind Man” to the simple prayer “You Lifted Me Up,” featuring the twin pillars of his wife, Patti Scialfa, and consigliere Steve Van Zandt.

The closing title track dreams of an existence where “the passing day would absolve our sins” and “in the cool of the evening, the losing team would win.”

But alas, the world remains imperfect, even if it is now a measurably better place thanks to the existence of seven new Bruce Springsteen albums.