Rebel Rebel

Among the great guitar riffs in the Bowie catalog, "Rebel Rebel" opens with a smearing glam-rock figure that sounds like it was written in five seconds and has lived forever. The production is deliberately messy compared to the Ziggy Stardust material — rougher, more ragged, the energy of a band that has been playing too long and found the best thing inside the fatigue. Bowie's vocal is loose and almost conversational, the enunciation somewhere between clear and deliberate slur. The lyric is a celebration of gender nonconformity delivered with total warmth, the narrator's affection for his "hot tramp" absolute and uncomplicated. In 1974 this was transgressive; heard now it sounds like the obvious correct position stated cheerfully. The song's genius is how uncomplicated the empathy is — there's no argument, no defense, just love for someone who doesn't fit and doesn't care. The chorus is anthemic in the simplest possible way. It belongs to any context where outsiders gather to feel less alone, from LGBTQ+ spaces to the general territory of anyone who has been told they don't add up right. Best at high volume, which is the only appropriate volume.