|Recording Artist:||Bryan Adams|
|Writers:|| Jim Vallance
|Date Written:||April 1985|
|Albums:||Into The Fire (A&M Records, 1987) / Vancouver Canada|
|Bryan Adams: rhythm guitar, keyboards, vocal
Robbie King: organ
Keith Scott: rhythm guitar, lead guitar
Dave Pickell: piano
Dave Taylor: bass
Mickey Curry: drums
Produced by Bob Clearmountain and Bryan Adams. Associate producer Jim Vallance. Recorded by Bob Clearmountain, September 1986, at Cliffhanger Studios, West Vancouver. Mixed by Bob Clearmountain, January 1987, at AIR Studios, London.
|Cover Versions:||Also recorded by Roger Daltrey|
"Rebel" was written by Bryan Adams and I during our "topical" lyric period, when we were trying our hardest not to write love songs. It was written specially for Roger Daltrey, although Bryan would later record his own version.
At the time we wrote the song, Bryan was dating Vicki Russell, daughter of the famous British director Ken Russell (sorry, but I was never a fan).
Among other films, Russell directed the screen version of the rock opera "Tommy", featuring Roger Daltrey in the lead role. As a young child Vicki was cast as Sally Simpson.
It was Vicki who introduced Bryan to Roger in 1984.
One night, over dinner, Roger mentioned he was working on a solo album. Bryan jumped at the opportunity and offered to write a song. When Bryan got back to Vancouver we went straight to work on "Rebel".
The song is about small-town England, as best we could imagine it from Roger's point of view (if, for example, Roger had worked in a factory and not become famous). It's about finding the courage to change ... to leave behind all that's familiar.
In England, even today, many people are born and die in the same small town.
In his book "The Isles" (a history of Britain and Ireland) author Norman Davies tells of "Cheddar Man", an 9,000-year-old skeleton whose DNA matched that of Adrian Targett, a school teacher and life-long resident of Cheddar Village ... proof that some families really don't leave their home towns!
|Lyrics:||Well, he made his way back to the old town
And everything looked just the same
The shops and the schools and the factories were there
But somehow the faces had changed
So he went for a walk in the High Street
Took his coat off and rolled up his sleeves
He thought of his father and his father before him
And how he was the first one to leave
Well he didn't come here for forgiveness
There isn't a lot they can say
'Cause I remember the reasons he first ran away
He's a rebel
Just a rebel
Got his back to the wall
Gonna fight 'til he falls
He's a rebel
Don't ever look back - don't surrender
The old men say they've seen it before
Oh they drink their beer and they talk about friends
Who didn't come back from the war
Don't say he's too young to remember
Don't tell him what's wrong or what's right
Just give him a chance to go out there and fight
He's a rebel
Just a rebel
All the battles are won
But he's still on the run
He's a rebel
When it comes time for leavin'
Don't stand in my way
There's nothin' left for me here
Gonna run, run away
In the morning he walks past the old house
In the rain under gray northern skies
There's a new coat of paint on the front garden gate
But there's more there than first meets the eye
For a moment he stands undecided
Looking back on the days of his youth
As two worlds collide in a moment of truth
He's a rebel
Here's a bio from the allmovie.com website.
British director Ken Russell started out training for a naval career, but after wartime RAF and merchant navy service he switched goals and went into ballet. Supplementing his dancing income as an actor and still photographer, Russell put together a handful of amateur films in the 50s before being hired as a staff director by the BBC. Russell made a name for himself (albeit a name not always spoken in reverence) during the first half of the '60s by directing a series of iconoclastic TV dramatizations of the lives of famous composers and dancers. And if he felt that the facts were getting in the way of his story, he'd make up his own — frequently bordering on the libelous. If he had any respect for the famous persons whose lives he probed, it was secondary to his fascination with revealing all warts and open wounds.
A film director since 1963, Russell burst into the international consciousness with 1969's Women in Love, a hothouse version of the D.H. Lawrence novel. No director who staged a scene in a mainstream movie in which two men wrestled in the nude could escape notice, and thus Russell became more of a "star" than his actors. While some viewers had their sensibilities shaken by Women in Love, others had their sensibilities run through the blender with Russell's next film, The Music Lovers. Predicated on the notion that Peter Tchaikovsky and his wife were, respectively, a homosexual and nymphomaniac, the film's much discussed "highlight" is a scene in which Nina Tchaikovsky (Glenda Jackson) allows the inmates in the cellar of an insane asylum to reach up and play with her privates. But this was kid's stuff compared to Russell's The Devils (1971), an ultraviolent and perversely anachronistic adaptation of Aldous Huxley's The Devils of Loudun. Russell returned to his musical theater roots with The Boy Friend (1971), a bloated version of Sandy Wilson's intimate 1920s pastiche, and then went back to biography with the insanely inaccurate Lisztomania (1974) and Valentino (1975). The latter film not only suggested that Rudolph Valentino (Rudolf Nureyev) performed totally nude in his silent films, but also offered up the spectacle of Huntz Hall as producer Jesse Lasky. At this point, even some of the most devoted fans of Russell's outrageous (but undeniably brilliant) visual sense were fed up with his shock-for-shock's-sake approach and his all-consuming narcissism. As outrageousness in filmmaking became the industry norm in the '80s, Russell's reputation began to fade. He was back in his old form with 1991's Whore, which conveyed several times over that life on the streets is hell — then for good measure, said it a few more times. Backed by a childishly slavering ad campaign, Whore brought Russell into the spotlight again. — Hal Erickson