I enjoyed Bowie and his music, and lament his passing. Fortunately, technology and memories serve well to keep the music playing.
Today found my mind shuffling and streaming old Bowie songs like “Diamond Dogs,” “Suffragette City,” and today’s offering, “Rebel, Rebel.” No particular reason for singing it today, except I like the song for its laid-back approach and the amused, disdainful sense of observation and discovery heard in the lyrics.
You’ve got your mother in a whirl
She’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair’s alright
Hey babe, let’s go out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they’re playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
They put you down, they say I’m wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on
Michael Seidel, writer 
Future Legend
And … in the death – as the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare – the shutters lifted in
inches in Temperance Building – high on Poachers Hill and red mutant eyes gazed down on Hunger City –
no more big wheels – fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats and ten thousand peoploids split
into small tribes coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers – like packs of dogs assaulting the glass
fronts of Love Me Avenue – ripping and re-wrapping mink and shiny silver fox – now leg warmers – family
badge of sapphire and cracked emeralds – any day now – the year of the Diamond Dogs
this is my favorite part of diamond dogs album and it sets up the listening for what is about to assault the ears
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Yes, oh, yes.
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