The songs of Bruce Springsteen had grown steadily darker over the albums Darkness on the Edge of Town and The River, but with the release of his sixth album he mined his bleakest territory yet.

1983’s Nebraska is as desolate and stark as the landscape pictured on its black-and-white cover. Its songs tell the tales of killers and thieves, men and women whose hope for redemption is fading like the eerie glow of a dying sunset.

Springsteen initially recorded Nebraska on a 4-track recorder in his home, playing guitar and harmonica and adding an occasional touch of organ and mandolin. He then brought these tracks to the studio and recorded them with the full E-Street Band.

But when the sessions were over, Springsteen and his producers agreed that the band versions were a case of subtraction through addition — the rough demos felt more true to the spirit of the songs. So Springsteen decided to release the demos as the final album.

Nebraska sounds like a collection of demos, and it is all the more perfect for it. These songs feel like they are being handed down through generations of hard-luck survivors, bled out over an acoustic guitar on the front-porch of a dilapidated farm house. They are rough and sad and wonderful.

Nebraska is probably the least typical Springsteen album, and it may well be my favorite. It’s not always an easy listen, but it’s always a rewarding one.

I would love to hear the full-band versions of these songs (dubbed Electric Nebraska by fans). I have to think Springsteen will decide to release them one of these days, perhaps in 2013 as part of a 30th-anniversary package.

Equally tantalizing (though available to those who seek them out) would be the demo versions of several Born in the U.S.A. tracks that were recorded during the same initial sessions that resulted in Nebraska.

In an alternate universe, might Electric Nebraska have been another Born in the U.S.A.? And might Acoustic Born in the U.S.A. have been another Nebraska?