Fresh Air - A 'Failed Child Star' Looks Back On Her Unconventional Childhood

Episode Date: July 3, 2025

Tamara Yajia grew up Jewish in Argentina, intent on becoming a child star. But just when her break was coming along, her family emigrated to California. Her new memoir is Cry for Me, Argentina. Also, Ken Tucker reviews a new release of "lost" Bruce Springsteen music.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

Support for NPR and the following message comes from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. RWJF is a national philanthropy working toward a future where health is no longer a privilege, but a right. Learn more at rwjf.org. This is Fresh Air. I'm Terry Gross. Today's guest writes, There is absolutely no doubt that I was 100% sexualized as a child. She's referring to when she was a preteen child star modeling herself on Madonna. You probably don't know her name, Tamara Yahia, because she grew up in Argentina in Buenos Aires

and moved to America in 1995 when she was 13. The move was initially traumatic because she was about to become an even bigger star in Argentina after landing a role in the cast of a new TV show, which became the Argentinian equivalent of the Mickey Mouse Club, and it was a big hit. But she was denied that opportunity because her family had already planned to move to the US.

Argentina's economy was in a downturn. The middle class was collapsing. Her father's business had gone bankrupt and the family was broke. It was the second time the family moved to California. This time, as they were in the Immigration and Naturalization Office about to get their green cards, they were nearly deported instead because they'd overstayed their visa. Yahia now lives in LA, which has been at the epicenter of President Trump's efforts to deport people who were here illegally, and some legal residents have been swept up in

the process. Tamara Yahia has written a new memoir called Cry For Me Argentina, My Life as a Failed Child Star. It follows her tumultuous life, moving with her family from Argentina to California, then back to Argentina, then back to the U.S. in an eight-year period of her childhood. She also writes about what it was like being Jewish in Argentina. Yahia has given up on a music career, but she's channeled her creative energy into writing.

She was a writer for The Onion and Funny or Die and has written for several TV series, including Apple TV's Acapulco, the Hulu series This Fool, and several other shows. Tamara Yahejo, welcome to Fresh Air. Thank you so much, Terry, for having me. When I was reading about your early childhood performances in Buenos Aires on your way to being a childhood star, I was very worried about you. First of all, things weren't going well for you. You were biting people, you were getting scolded for trying to be funny by pushing boundaries, a child psychologist

diagnosed you as having developmental issues, your parents had sent you to a Hebrew school where the afternoon was all in Hebrew in Talmud study, and you didn't understand Hebrew. Then you saw a Madonna music video of the Isla Bonita, and you decided to dance and lip sync to Madonna's Like a Prayer in your Hebrew school talent show with rabbis and audience, in the audience and lots of parents. So I want you to describe your performance, what you did for your choreography and what you wore. Well, this was all my decision. I was the creative director of my

performance. I wore a American flag t-shirt that went down to my knees. It belonged to my father. And I had my great aunt Bubbela, who was a seamstress, put Velcro strips along the sides of the shirt so that once the choir hit in like a prayer, I could rip it off, kind of like strippers do in the movies. I don't know how I knew that back then, but I mean, I guess I had seen it somewhere. And then underneath Terry, I was wearing a black garter belt, which Bubba La had also taken in from me. I was like 11 maybe. And a little nude, like these nude colored shorts and the nude bra that made me look naked. Now, you can imagine the horror in people's faces. I describe

it in the book as it looked like they were about to get run over by a train. But I was on top of the world. So, describe your choreography and the knife. Well, I had a knife in my hand just like Madonna did in the Like a Prayer music video. Danielle Pletka And in the music video, she uses it basically to put stigmata in her hands. Jessica Sweeney Yes. I had no idea what any of that meant.

I mean, being raised Jewish, I didn't even know about Judaism, to be honest with you. I was just copying this amazing, confident woman that I had seen on MTV. So I pretended to slice my hand, then came the shirt tear off. I did a lot of crawling on the stage like Madonna had done in her, like a virgin music video. And I was just copying my idol. Your parents didn't know what your routine was going to be because you wanted to surprise them. What was their reaction?

My parents, they were not horrified to be honest with you. They saw me expressing myself and sex had been so normalized in my household that they were in awe of me. Which tells you a lot and you know, I don't blame them for it nowadays. I feel like I would do things differently when I have kids, but they just saw it as me expressing myself. But then again, Terry, I spoke to my dad after he read my book and his comment on it was, I thought all of the moves that we did and all of the change, he said, I thought it was fun for you. And at that moment, I just started weeping because I said this, I don't think there was much emotional intelligence on their end.

And I think they just, I don't know, it's so tough to talk about it, but I think they didn't see us as humans in a way, me and my sister. What do you mean by that? I think my parents may have been too focused on themselves and too much was permitted. And they just saw us as these extensions of themselves that were on this fun ride along with them. Well, parenthetically here, I'll mention that for family fun, your grandmother would drive the whole family to the Buenos Aires red light

district to look at the sex workers and you know and how attractive some of them were. How old were you and what was that experience like and do you think that connects to the larger story that you're telling here? Yeah, I mean, I must have been when we first started going, I was like eight or nine, you know, and it was a family outing, which to me felt totally normal at the time. And I write that my grandfather would sit in the front seat and he was going through chemotherapy and like almost dying at this point, and he would just sit and we would wave and I would wave and blow kisses and it not until now do I realize how insane that was. Well, your grandparents, I think this is on your mother's side, met at a brothel where your grandmother was a cook and your grandfather was a patron and

he tasted her cooking and they got married a few weeks later. And you said that like most of the people who worked at the brothel were Jewish. T.S. Yes. And I did some research on this and it blew my mind, Terry, because there were a lot of women from Poland back in the pogrom days that would get brought over to Argentina and they would pay their debt, their immigration debt, by working in brothels. And my great-great aunt was one of those sex workers and that's how my grandma ended up there. So there's sex work and sex has been normalized in my family from generation to generation. My father lost his virginity in a brothel. His uncle took him. And I thought it was crazy,

but he was like, that's just what we did. You got to the point, you say say where you started to lock eyes with men and you worried if they didn't look at you sexually. How did you interpret those looks as a preteen who didn't really understand what sex was yet? Like sex was normalized in your family but that doesn't mean you really understood it or saw it or knew it and knew what it was. No, and it felt so horrible. It was so confusing.

That's like the main thing I could say about it was just not understanding these feelings of a mixture of sexuality and like horniness, I describe it as in the book, but guilt and shame. And yeah, I would lock eyes with men at restaurants. Sometimes they would be with their families. And I feel like I exuded a sexually like a darkness as a kid, but it's just too hard to put into words because I didn't understand what it meant. And it was a combination of having Madonna be my idol and it was her at her in her erotica years which were the most sexual, you know, times.

And my family. So it was a perfect storm. Was there anyone who tried to protect you from yourself and from the men? No. When did you realize how inappropriate and potentially dangerous your situation was? Not until the past couple of years. And I'm 41. I was going to lie and say I was 40, but I'm 41.

I started really, really doing therapy, and it wasn't until I wrote this book. So it was a combination of those two things. For many years, I never even talked about the fact that I was a child star. So sitting down to write this really let me analyze that darkness and you know what's crazy is my editor, I didn't write about any of the creepy stuff. I just wrote about, you know, me doing the dances and stuff. And my editor said, let's go back. There's something missing here. This wasn't right. And it took three tries until I really nailed the emotion of what that, you know, men's gaze is and all of that being sexualized part because I tend to make things just be trivial and humorize. Humorize? Is that how

you say it? That's a good verb. I'm not sure I've heard it before, but I like it. Let's pretend like it is. But yeah, and so it was because of having an amazing editor that it served like therapy. And I went back and I really looked at what that meant. Why do you think it took you so long? It was survival mode, I think. I may have not been ready to see things until I wrote this book. I think I just needed the time to be prepared and strong to understand how difficult it was. And it's crazy because the moment I did understand all the trauma

and see it was when I changed my mind about wanting to have kids. I'd never wanted kids until I wrote this book. Yeah, that's how you start the book explaining that 95% of you didn't want kids, 5% did, and then the 5% wouldn't let go of you. And you decided, well, why don't you explain what changed your mind? I was scared that I would not be a good parent to a child because of the upbringing that I had. I'm getting emotional, but I was scared that history would repeat itself. And after writing this book, I knew there was no way that it would repeat itself.

Because I am an introspective person, because I was able to release all the trauma via my writing and also because I have an amazing partner. So I think once I let go of that, I knew I would make a wonderful mom. Tell us about how you found out that you had got the part on the TV show and that at the same time you couldn't take it. Yeah we got a phone call from my agent I think and what was I like 11 years? And I picked up the phone receiver and my mom picked it up at the same time. And I overheard the whole conversation, pretended like I wasn't on the line. And yeah, they said, you know, Tam has been cast and she'll

have to quit school or get homeschooled or whatever. And she'll be traveling all of Argentina and it'll be on TV and this and that. And I was like jumping for joy. And then my mom announced on the other line, you know, we can't take the job. We haven't told her yet, but we're packing up and moving back to the United States. And I literally, like in the movies, dropped the phone from my hand in just shock and horror. This is your dream, which was about to be fulfilled except that it wasn't going to be. Yeah, this is what I had worked so hard for. This was the ultimate dream. And this kind of stuff sticks with you, right?

Like I always, I feel like for the rest of my life, whenever a good thing, things happen to me, they will, I feel like they're not going to pan out. I write about this in this book, but somebody gave me the best advice ever and it's stupid and simple. But whenever that fear creeps up that things will get taken from me, you got to get over it. You got to move on and get over it. And I try to tell myself that. So just one more thing about performing.

What were your performances like when you stopped doing the Madonna thing? When I started singing, it was over tracks. So it was kind of like karaoke, but I had a different pick of songs. I did a lot of ace of bass, but I would sing it. So I had the tracks and a lot of choreography. I did all that she wants and I did the sign. I did some songs in Spanish. So I had like a little repertoire and I had two backup dancers. It was really cute. Okay. So your family decided to move to the US because your father's business went bankrupt, the family business went bankrupt, the whole middle class was collapsing, and they needed to make a fresh start and thought that California would be a better place to try to do it. So this was the second time that your family left Buenos Aires for California, and the first time around

you studied English as a second language. How helpful was that? It was so amazing. Terry, I don't remember learning English. It's wild because it must have been three or four months and I was amazing. I describe it as the Tower of Babel, but it was just children from all over the world and we were just forced to learn English because that it was the only way we could communicate and Yeah, I think it was like two or three months and I don't even remember it I kind of forget whether was the first or second time you were in LA that your parents opened up a stall at the mall food court And it was a knockoff of a place that was called El Pollo Loco which is the crazy chicken and so the

name they came up with was the sexy chicken. That's right. So I want you to describe what the logo looked like. The logo was a slutty rotisserie chicken cartoon. It had huge boobs and a tight black dress and smoked a long cigarette. A mole drawn on, kind of like a sluttier Marilyn Monroe, if you will. And the business failed after like six months. So my God, I tried revisiting the Fallbrook Mall, which is where that place was, and it's closed. But God, I love malls because of that, spending so much time in food courts and malls as a kid.

So your grandfather had a store in the same mall that sold stationery and children's toys. You must have really felt like you owned the mall. Oh, I call myself, I was the feral child of the mall. And it was my happy place. That also shows like the lack of boundaries and codependency issues in my family that my father opens up the food court stand and my grandparents literally move from Argentina to the United States because they couldn't bear to be without us. Not only that, but they moved next door to us and opened aery store at the same mall. So there was a lot of escaping

from each other. But the mall was my happy place and it still is. If I'm like having a bad day, my husband will be like, let's go to the park, let's, you know, ground ourselves, put our feet in the grass. And I'm like, no, I'm going to the mall. So your singing and dancing teacher in Buenos Aires gave you a note when you left for the final time to actually live for real in California and she wrote dear Tamara never forget that you are a star don't give up what you've started you know what's in California Hollywood now go get them. Describe your attempt to do that in front of

Grauman's Chinese Theatre. And this is the theater on the Hollywood Walk of Fame where Oscar ceremonies had been held, big movie premieres. So tell us what you did. Oh my god. So I made my parents drive me from Orange County to, yeah, the Hollywood epicenter of Hollywood. And I put on my outfit, my performance outfit. It was like the vinyl, black vinyl mini skirt. And I had grown a little bit, so it was starting to be really small on me and not as cute. And I walked around doing like voguing and striking poses in hopes that a manager would find me and rediscover me in the United States, which is so sad, but also so incredibly funny to me.

And you know, my parents walked around behind me and I was like, distance, you cannot be too close to me. I have to be seen. And yeah, I was just voguing down Hollywood Boulevard and obviously no manager discovered me. And then we just ended up at McDonald's eating chicken nuggets. Were you singing at the same time? No, I was not singing. I was just dancing to no music. Oh my god, what a disaster.

Well, we need to take another break here, so let me reintroduce you. If you're just joining us, my guest is Tamara Yahia. Her new memoir is called Cry For Me, Argentina, My Life as a Failed Child Star. We'll be right back after a short break. I'm Terry Gross, and this is Fresh Air. Support for NPR and the following message comes from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. RWJF is a national philanthropy working toward a future where health is no longer a privilege but a right. Learn more at rwjf.org. So your family went to California on a tourist visa, I think with more luggage than tourists

typically bring. Yes. And your father kept entering what was known as the Green Card Lottery. Can you explain what that is? Yes. So every year the United States government grants, I'm not sure, let's say 40,000 visas to specific countries. And if you win this lottery, you and your family get naturalized. So we won that. We couldn't believe it.

What do you have to do to enter the lottery? I think you pay, if I remember correctly, you pay some sort of sum of money and you turn in, it's like a letter or like an application. It's pretty simple. I'm not sure, we may have had an attorney help us with it once we won, but yeah, it was that easy. Just like a hundred bucks and an application. Danielle Pletka So the family finally won. At this point though, you were undocumented because your tourist visa had expired. So let's talk about the expiration period before your father got the go-ahead for the green cards. What could your family not do or not do

legally? We couldn't travel for one. We couldn't leave if we wanted to come back. I believe my parents had driver's license, which luckily they had obtained on our first trip here when everything was easier to obtain. But we didn't have social security numbers, so we couldn't, or I was too young, but they couldn't work. So I just think, I remember even as a kid, I was in constant fear of even crossing the street when the light was red, because I would get picked up by the police and deported. So imagine being 13 years old, starting middle school, getting my period, all of that, and then on top of it, this fear, underlying fear. Your parents couldn't work legally, but did they have a business and get paid in ways that they didn't have to

declare their earnings? I believe they still paid taxes. I don't know if it was under their Social Securities, but they still paid taxes and they still worked. Their business was cash because they drove food trucks, so it was kind of easier. But I was always so scared. It wasn't right, you know, and I think, imagine how it affected my parents. affected my parents. When you were scared and you worried about what was going to happen, what was the movie that you played in your head about how that would work? Oh my God, terrifying. So I remember my parents would leave for work at three in the morning and I would stay with my little sister who's four years younger. And I would dream that they would get caught and

deported and that me and her would get put into an orphanage or get sent to a creepy man to take care of us. I had also watched this movie called Freeway with Reese Witherspoon and Kiefer Sutherland. And in my mind, my parents parents were gonna get deported and me and my sister would be sent to this creepy man Like Kiefer Sutherland in that movie. Um It was so terrifying I would just not sleep at night just straight up I was so scared So in the book you say you actually did have your parents did have a lawyer an ultra-orthodox Hasidic Jewish lawyer, who

told her family that they just had to show up and fill out the paperwork and they'd get the green card. So you were in the immigration and naturalization service, the family was there. I think you were there, right, with your parents? I was there. Yeah. Tell us what you were told. So we went in so happy because this lawyer said, it's going to be a piece of cake. It'll take two seconds. And I remember sitting down and just some guy who immigration officer who, you know, didn't even look at us. And I remember them just like

avoiding my dad's gaze, just flipped through paperwork and just immediately said, no, you were here undocumented for however long. This doesn't qualify you. There was something else that I didn't put in the book where my dad had been sponsored through work, which is the reason that the deportation didn't work. I'm unsure as to that. But they basically deported us on the spot because the lawyer wasn't present. And I remember my mom collapsing on the floor of the immigration building and just having a straight up panic attack. And in my mind thinking, what does this mean? Being kind of happy because I was like, I'm going back to Argentina. My grandparents are there, but still horror and confusion. Danielle Pletka So what did your lawyer do when your parents

contacted him and he came and turned things around? Dr. Julie Kinn Oh my God, the guy was a maniac. He came in and started pounding on the doors of the immigration offices. I don't know how he didn't get arrested. He had a stained shirt with mustard and ketchup, I remember. He was like, you wrongfully deported this family. I will burn the place down and I will get every news outlet I know. He was a character here. And so they let us back in and we had a different person this time who was, you know, read the other part of my dad having a sponsor or whatever and was like, oh yeah, no, no, no, that was

a mistake and basically undeported us on the spot. It was an absolute rollercoaster. It's not right for a child to feel that way. Danielle Pletka If you try to project that incident into the present, what do you see? Dr. Julie P. Hicks Oh my God. I can't put into words what is happening right now. And it brings up a lot. And I to say that I am I'm lucky I have fair skin You know, like I don't feel like I would be targeted but although who knows but I think of my parents You know, they could be visually targeted. I

Don't think so profile. I don't think I would be racially profiled. No I don't think so. Rationally profiled. I don't think I would be racially profiled. No, not me, but then again, I think of my parents driving food trucks in downtown LA in construction zones with, you know, thick accents and they're driving around with their passports right now. So God, it's just so horrible, Terry. So you know, I was reading in the New York Times their description of what's happening

in LA and this was, I was reading this on June 30th. They said that there are parts of LA and Latino neighborhoods where it looks like the COVID shutdown, that people are so afraid to take public transportation or buy anything from a Latino market or Latino truck, they're afraid to be seen on the street. And so a lot of the streets and shops are empty. Yeah, I can see it. I also live downtown.

So places like the flower market downtown, which is my favorite place to go on Saturday mornings and just buy flowers and make bouquets, is empty. Street vendors are gone. The Sant'Ialli, which is where me and my parents would go and shop for cheap clothes. Like, it's unrecognizable and it's a city that's already hurting after the fires and COVID. So it's devastating. Danielle Pletka Did you witness any of the demonstrations, the National Guard? Jessica Swann Yeah, I live like two blocks away from where

everything happened. And it's weird because I would put the news on for comfort, which is like exactly what I didn't, the opposite of what I should be doing. You were probably just narrating what was going on two blocks away from you. Oh, totally. There was one moment where I was like, there's our apartment, like watching it on the news. But I don't know, it felt, it's crazy because I was in a fight with my parents during this whole time, so we weren't speaking. And I was just following their locations on my phone and seeing them going to work like

in the middle of where all of these ice raids were happening and just being like, what a time to not be on speaking terms with my parents. Everything is fine now. But this is what happens when you write a book too and you process so much stuff. It's like I needed a break from them. Because you were processing your relationship with them and how they did or didn't protect you over the years. Oh yeah, it's been really intense, Terry. I'm like, all of this immigration stuff, my book, writing this book, processing stuff

I'd never processed, and on top of it doing IVF because I'm trying to have a kid. And pumped with hormones. So I am something else right now. On that note, we need to take another break here. So let me reintroduce you. If you're just joining us, my guest is Tamara Yahia. Her new memoir is called Cry For Me Argentina, My Life as a Failed Child Star. We'll be right back.

This is Fresh Air. In the US, in California, you eventually broke into the music business briefly and then discovered like your gift for writing and your love of writing and of reading. And the way you broke into the music business, because you got to intern with and then work at Sony Records, you and a friend of yours, another girl, went to a Latin rock festival

and you were approached by a guy who asked you if you wanted to go backstage. When you said yes, he gave you an all-access pass and then you ended up doing Mushrooms with one of Mexico's most famous rock bands. You had just turned 18. Was this supposed to be a quid pro quo kind of thing? Like you get the access pass and there's stuff that the band is going to expect from you? No, it wasn't. Actually, that's when my life got fun. It wasn't creepy.

We became close friends with these guys and it was like, I started smoking pod and doing mushrooms. I remember we would make human pyramids and like throw cheese all over tour buses. I don't know, Terry, this sounds insane as I'm saying it out loud. But it was just more like young people hanging out. Again, I haven't had life experiences that were all normal and as I grew up. But it was, I talk about it in the book, like one time I found myself like in a, at a party with Stevie Wonder. You're just wondering like how did that happen? Because I don't think you explain.

I think it was just we had gone to a show where one of these rock bands were playing and we took a limo to the show and it was like, oh, there's Stevie Wonder. And that's when I met this really cool lady who was an exec in the music industry. And she was like, do you want an internship? You seem, you know, like you have a really outgoing personality. And I was like, yeah. And I started the next Monday. You got hired after a few months. You were like working on press releases and working on tours sometimes. But then your mother told you that you'd make a much better living and would be able to buy a home if you got a job as an interpreter, Spanish interpreter. And so you took a class, you got a job, and you hated it, because you were working at

a hospital and you were just repeating what people said and it was all about like symptoms and disease and stuff. And you sank into a really bad depression. And I think that's one of the things that led you to get addicted to pills. Yeah. I mean, it had to come to a head at some point all of the trauma and I think becoming an interpreter the least creative job and I am a super creative person. It just broke me and my mom happened to break her foot and she

had a stash of Vicodin and suddenly I I took one I was like, oh my god, it felt so good at first. I took the backpack off that had been weighing me down for so many years. But like addiction goes, it never remains that way and it started to get dark for me. Yeah, and then you end up dropping a pill while you were driving and looking down to try to find it and crashing into a bus and totaling the car, injuring your back, and then you stop the pills, which is great that you were able to do that. Yes, I went all the way because I was taking antidepressants.

I was taking Vicodin, I was smoking pot, and then after the car crash, which was funny because there was a Buzz Lightyear advertisement for Toy Story on the back of the bus. So when I came to and opened my eyes, I just saw Buzz Lightyear like waving at me and Woody, and I was like, oh my God, what happened? And I just was, that was the wake-up call I needed and I just quit everything at the same time and I started to feel emotions again and I think I may have cried for three months

straight following that, but it was good, it was good. So now you're trying to have a child, which is how you start your book, talking about why you decided to have a child. What do you wanna do differently than how you were raised? Like, do you have this whole plan in mind of like what kind of mother you're gonna be, which will of course change because nothing goes as planned.

But do you have like a plan in mind or a vision? Yeah, I think there's just without going into it too much because there's so much will change like you said, but I just want this child to feel safe. It's very, very simple. I did not feel safe, and that needs to change. And they will not be an extension of me. They will be their own person. And again, I have the right partner, I'm certain. Danielle Pletka Tamara, it's really been fun to talk with you, even though part of what we talked about was very traumatic. I don't mean the interview is traumatic, but we were talking about trauma in your life. But it was really a pleasure to talk with you

and thank you for coming on the show and for, you know, talking openly about your life. Thank you so much. Thank you. Wow, this is a pinch me moment. Thank you for saying that. Tomorrow, Yehiya's new memoir is called Cry For Me, Argentina, My Life as a Failed Child Star.

After we take a short break, Ken Tucker will review Bruce Springsteen's seven new albums collecting previously unreleased material. This is fresh air. Bruce Springsteen just released seven albums worth of previously unreleased material. The collection is called Tracks 2, The Lost Albums, a sequel to the first Tracks anthology from 1998. The new collection includes songs written and recorded between the mid-1980s through the late 2010s.

The range of sounds and styles is considerable, from synth pop to folk ballads. Rock critic Ken Tucker has listened to all 83 songs and has a review of this trove of new Bruce music. A workaholic and a pack rat, Bruce Springsteen is known for the volume as well as the quality of his music. These seven so-called lost albums each represent collections that, at the time of recording, were polished up and ready to go, but then were held back for various reasons. I'll give you an example. In the liner notes to the album now called The Streets of Philadelphia Sessions, Springsteen says this material, created mostly alone in the studio during the 1990s, would have followed

quote three solo albums about relationships in a row. He felt the sustained downbeat tone might test his audience's patience. So he switched gears, got the E Street band back in action, and went in a different direction. But it's nice to hear some of these quiet, intimate compositions such as The Little Things. Yeah, we could just hold each other with our clothes on I went to answer, I don't think we should Then I heard a voice say, yeah, I guess we could. She kissed me lightly, said, you know, sometimes when you're down, it's the little things that come.

It's the little things that come. It's the little things. The seven albums in this collection include Inyo, consisting of original folk songs influenced by Springsteen's motorcycle trips around California, Texas, and Mexico. There's another album called Somewhere North of Nashville, full of pedal steel guitar and the Bruce version of country music. My favorite moment on that one isn't a Springsteen original but a lovely cover of Johnny Rivers great 1966 number one hit Poor Side of Town. And the last time I saw you, you wouldn't even kiss me That rich guy you've been seeing, really must have put you down Given seven albums of material, there are inevitable weak spots. Faithless, described as the soundtrack to

a western movie that was never shot, is rather listless, a slowpoke cowpoke. Another album that's a kind of stunt is Twilight Hours. By contrast, the best album of the seven is the L.A. Garage Sessions, the sparse, lo-fi, one-man band recordings he cut in 1983. This was after Springsteen's solo album Nebraska and before his huge E Street hit Born in the USA. In the liner notes, he refers to these sessions as a critical bridge between those two albums. It includes some marvelously unpretentious music, including the Beach Boys-ish Don't Back Down on Our Love and this song called Little Girl Like You that carries echoes of the Everly Brothers. I've settled down with a girl like you I've seen a lot of girls, had a lot of fun

Ran around a lot, never run is done Honey, all I want, want to be runnin' to Is the arms of a girl like you At its best, this capacious grab bag of music yields not just good songs, but songs that seem unlike anything else Springsteen has ever done. From the album called Perfect World, I love this thundercloud ballad called If I Could Only Be Your Lover, which sounds

like the theme to a film noir not yet made. Set up foreclosure sun Once this town, this house And you were mine A rusted latch on a backyard fence Swingset swallowed swallow in weeds grown up to some backport stair. If I could only be your lover, I'd never covet any of them. Most of these lost albums contain striking songs that would have deepened our understanding of both Springsteen's process and his value during any of the periods during which the music was made.

Spilling out these 83 tunes now is like finding the missing jigsaw puzzle pieces that enable fans to complete the full picture of who Bruce Springsteen has been for the past four decades. Ken Tucker reviewed Bruce Springsteen's new collection, Tracks 2, the Lost Albums. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham. Our managing producer is Sam Brigger. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Roberta Shorrock, Anne Marie Boldenato, Lauren Krenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Susan Yakundi, and Anna Bauman.

Our digital media producer is Molly C.B. Nesbier. They are challenged or directed today's show. Our co-host is Tanya Mosley. I'm Terry Gross. Support for NPR and the following message comes from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. RWJF is a national philanthropy working toward a future where health is no longer a privilege, but a right.

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