Western Stars, when it arrived in 2019 it was the fruition of a years-long process that – judging by the evidence afforded by the interviews and commentary around Tracks II: The Lost Albums – began in 2010 when Springsteen began working with Ron Aniello. It went through many iterations and sessions before Springsteen found the style he was looking for. Some of those sessions found their way to one of the other ‘lost’ albums on this set, Somewhere North Of Nashville. A huge glut of them, however, have been rounded up onto the sprawling Twilight Hours.

Perhaps the most unexpected of the set, this one finds Springsteen leaning fully into mood, orchestration, and emotional understatement. Where Western Stars still carried traces of pop structure and narrative propulsion, Twilight Hours drifts instead through late-night spaces – hotel bars, empty streets, the moments when reflection replaces momentum. It’s music shaped as much by atmosphere as by songcraft.

Stylistically, Twilight Hours draws heavily from mid-century orchestral pop and noir-tinged balladry, with lush strings, restrained rhythms, and the influence of classic crooners and cinematic arrangements drip off the album by the bucket load. How much you’ll enjoy it depends, really, on how much you enjoy the classic Burt Bacharach and Hal David songs of the 1960s that Bruce is gunning for here.

Sadly, for me, that’s not a lot. This is the set that it’s taking me the longest to get into and find pleasure in. Where Springsteen has dabbled with ‘genre’ in the past, it’s always felt that his songs have been stripped and arranged to suit whereas here, like the weaker moments of Western Stars, it often feels like Bruce has written a bulk-order of ‘Rhinstone-cowboy-style’ songs and Aniello has slapped as many schmatlzy effects as his pro-tools could cope with. It too often leans into pastiche rather than style.

However, much like Western Stars, there are moments when it really works. It’s still a fucking Bruce Springsteen album after all. Many of the arrangements are superb, and Springsteen’s vocals, in their subdued longing, have never sounded richer or fuller as he explores themes of aging, regret, and emotional distance. For me, though, on an hour that spans nearly an hour, it’s a bit of a hard, monotonous slog. If I wanted to listen to Burt Bacharach, I’d listen to Burt Bacharach.

Least: I’ll Stand By You

I could’ve gone for any number of songs here. The overly trite and obvious Sunday Love or September Kisses…. I mean, this is the guy that put a lyric like ‘And she’s so pretty that you’re lost in the stars. As you jockey your way through the cars’ onto one of the least memorable songs on Born To Run, crooning some of the most banal shite on some of these songs. However, ‘I’ll Stand By You’ takes the ‘odd one out’ card for not only was it a bit of a flat-note when previously randomly included on the Blinded By The Light soundtrack, here it falls just as flat. A lullaby previously written for and offered up for a Happy Rotter soundtrack, it’s overly saccharine and out of place here too.

Most: High Sierra

One of those songs that feels closest to classic Bruce but delivered with an unexpected tenderness. This is one of, and the finest, those moments where the concept, the style and the song all match up and soar. While it could perhaps do with a little trimming, it’s a fantastic narrative and Story Time Bruce is always going to get more points than the Insipid, Elevator Music Bruce that turns up on too many of these songs.