Review: Springsteen’s ‘Electric Nebraska’ is fascinating – but it’s not ‘Nebraska’

When Jon Landau was asked about the legendary “Electric Nebraska” tapes, he reportedly said, “The right version of ‘Nebraska’ was released.” And guess what? Turns out he was right! (Jon Landau is always right.)

Not that there’s any shortage of interesting curiosities on “Nebraska ’82: Expanded Edition,” out Friday in conjunction with the release of the Springsteen biopic, “Deliver Me from Nowhere.” The outtakes from the sessions recorded in that rented Colts Neck, New Jersey farmhouse contain a few hidden gems, and a new straight-through take on the classic album recorded live by Springsteen at the Count Basie Theater this past April offers its own rewards.

More on those later, though. What people are really salivating over are those long-rumored “Electric Nebraska” recordings, which Bruce famously shelved in order to release his original demos instead. As recently as this past June, Springsteen was telling a Rolling Stone reporter they didn’t exist, before texting back later to say that, waddaya know, he found them! And now here they are, on a deluxe special edition release. The question is, should we have been more careful about what we wished for?

Ironically, the most effective of these electric tracks are the least, well, electric. The subtle addition of Stevie Van Zandt’s mandolin and Danny Federici’s synthesizer actually brings a quiet heft to “Nebraska” that complements its resigned delivery. That’s even more true for Federici’s organ and Roy Bittan’s piano on “Mansion on the Hill” — the addition provides just a touch of extra melancholy, and points toward the sad country version eventually preserved on the “Live from New York City” release.

But that brings up a pertinent point about several other key tracks, namely “Atlantic City,” “Johnny 99,” and “Reason to Believe.” Anyone who’s been paying attention over the last 40 years has heard the E Street Band’s live work-ups of these songs, and these versions are basically those versions — except not as good, because they were the first run-throughs.

You can very much hear the bones of the rollicking live take on “Atlantic City” that’s become a show staple, and of the chugga-chugga “Johnny 99” that enlivened the “Magic” tour and Springsteen’s most recent world jaunt, as well as the roadhouse-rough version of “Reason.” But knowing those live takes as we do, these nascent versions do the opposite of bringing anything new to the table, making them more curios than lost classics. 

Besides, one of the reasons those live versions work is due to the novelty of comparing them to the sparse original recordings. To imagine these as the originally released versions, and those classic “demos” never seeing the light of day, is to be horrified. (That said, the eventual release of “Acoustic Nebraska” would have been wild.)

Two tracks on “Electric Nebraska” stand out as keepers, and neither was on the original “Nebraska.” One is a dirty, driving version of “Born in the USA” that’s the most fully-realized of all the early outtakes of this song — “Deliver Me from Nowhere” cheats by showing Bruce recording the anthemic version we all know, but in actuality this was likely the version he recorded that day, and it’s a dark, gritty barn-burner that leaves no doubt about the song’s sour message.

The other is “Downbound Train,” which Springsteen delivers with a manic, punk energy. (Maybe this is the song he should have [not] given to The Ramones instead of “Hungry Heart.”) Again, I wouldn’t replace the jangly lament that we know from “Born in the USA,” but this version is a fiery souvenir of Bruce’s restless state of mind as these albums were coming together.

So, in fact, is the “Downbound Train” from the outtakes section, which takes that same manic energy but pairs it with echoey rockabilly — the dangerous-sounding kind. (Google Johnny Burnette’s Rock and Roll Trio, you’ll thank me later.) The outtakes, like the “Electric Nebraska” tracks, are a decidedly mixed bag, but the most successful are the ones with that kind of rockabilly vibe. These include the previously released “The Big Payback” and the simply spooky “On the Prowl,” the one track here I think you could argue should have made the original album. 

The short, chilling “Gun in Every Home” comes a close second — maybe more in retrospect, given how the “world gone crazy” Bruce sings of in that song seems so depressingly prescient.

Others work less well. “Child Bride,” stripped from the raucous setting of the song it would become, “Working on the Highway,” is just sad and not a little bit creepy. (Just look at that title.) And “Losin’ Kind” is hard to listen to without thinking of the two better songs it would become, “Highway Patrolman” and “Highway 29,” the noir classic from “The Ghost of Tom Joad.” (And yes, I’m aware of the number of times the word “highway” found its way into this paragraph.)

The other section of the set that will be new to listeners is Bruce’s live Count Basie recording of the whole album, which, when I heard about it, felt vaguely unnecessary. Do we really need to hear him singing these songs again? Turns out, well, yeah — filtered through his unadorned 43-years-older voice, the songs have a weathered charm that, on the one hand, belies their tortured origins, and on the other shifts the perspective from desperate young losers to fading old warhorses, which in some ways is even sadder.

Either way, the Okie drawl Springsteen has adopted in the second half of his career serves these live versions well — I’ll definitely be listening to this again. (And watching, since there’s a Blu-ray too.) 

“Nebraska ’82: Expanded Edition” ends, of course, with a remastered version of the original album, its charcoal-black story-songs more powerful than ever, and every echo and distortion beautifully preserved. I’m glad to finally have the unheard tracks, but they were smart to cap the set off with what, four decades later, still stands as one of Springsteen’s crowning achievements.

I’ve said it before: Prior to this, Bruce had only hinted at how wrenching it can be when the American Dream goes awry. On “Nebraska” it’s fully realized, and it’s devastating.