One of rock’s foremost maximalists, it’s no surprise Bruce Springsteen should seek to turn the outtakes record, a somewhat hackneyed institution, into something altogether more ambitious. Recorded on and off through Springsteen’s marathon 2012/13 Wrecking Ball tour, High Hopes sees the singer revisiting obscurities and long-time favourites alike and tossing several unlikely covers into the pot (a characteristically earthy reading of Suicide’s ‘Dream Baby Dream’ is particularly striking).

All of the E-Street Band feature, as does Tom Morello, the Rage Against The Machine guitarist who replaced bandana-wearing regular Steve Van Zandt on the Australian leg of the Wrecking Ball dates (Van Zandt was off filming his Norwegian crime show Lilyhammer). This temporary shake-up in the ranks seems to have invigorated Springsteen, who gives Morello a prominent spot on a beefed-up revisiting of ‘The Ghost Of Tom Joad’, from his 1995 album of the same name (Morello turns out to be an ardent Bruce foil, but I kept yearning for the original’s whispered understatement).

Thematically, High Hopes has a somewhat random feel, though most of the songs share the blue-denim swagger that Springsteen has embraced over recent long players. There are contemplative moments, but these feel like place holders, as Springsteen and band count down to the next throaty rock-out. This is a collection that pushes the pedal to the floor early on and mostly keeps it there.

The lead track in particular is a curiosity: a cover of a cover, which Springsteen recorded for the first time for his 1996 EP (the original is by Tim Scott McConnell and released by his band The Havanas). With cocksure brass and thunking guitars, ‘High Hopes’ employs broad-strokes but its sentiments – cheer up, good times are around the corner (probably) – feel less than entirely convincing.

Also rescued from obscurity is ‘American Skin (41 Shots)’, which gained a new lease of relevance last summer as, performing in Limerick, Springsteen dedicated it to gunned down Florida teenager Trayvon Martin. Released as a B-side in 1999, the tune was in the first instance composed as a commentary on another controversial killing, that of Guinean migrant Amadou Diallo in New York. It’s a worthy addition to the canon of Springsteen agit-prop, even if the arrangement here tends towards overkill.

It’s been reported that, even in the midst of recording, Bruce was still trying to work out what sort of album he wanted to make. Consequently it will comes as scant surprise that High Hopes is less rigorous, and less well thought-out than most Springsteen records. For aficionados, there’s enough of the good stuff – albeit songs a completist will already have encountered in different form – to merit deeper exploration. For others, High Hopes may seem too earnest for its station. As always with Bruce, strong feelings one way or the other are guaranteed.