And the people doing that right now? BIPOC, women, queer, non-binary, and neurodiverse artists who are done waiting for space in a system that wasn’t built for them. So they’re building their own — in the booth, on Bandcamp, at the edge of genre.

What does it mean to rebel when the industry is constantly pushing “relatable,” “marketable,” “aesthetic”? It means showing up with work that refuses to flatten identity into trend. It means music that doesn’t shrink itself for streaming stats or chasing the algorithm.

We see it in the intensity of Backxwash’s horror-infused rap, which isn’t just heard, it feels like ritual. We feel it in Moor Mother’s poetry. Political, experimental, refusing to be packaged. We hear it in Liv.e’s collage-like approach to R&B, soul, and jazz.  It’s in how Amaarae bends genre and gender expression into something uniquely her own. Something glossy, glitchy, and undefinable. It’s in L’Rain’s refusal to be labeled, making music that moves more like memory than song.

Rebellion today looks like artists protecting their stories. It looks like choosing community over clout. It sounds like grief, resistance, softness, and truth — sometimes all at once. It’s a refusal to translate your identity for anyone’s comfort. A refusal to make your identity digestible. A refusal to be packaged.