It was the Clash’s Joe Strummer who sang most passionately about turning rebellion into money. And that was more than two decades ago, in the bitter "White Man in Hammersmith Palais," from the band’s homonymous debut. In the decade that’s passed since punk re-emerged, this time as a commercial force on the American charts, major-label marketers have discovered dozens of new ways to squeeze a dollar out of teenage alienation — which, of course, is the kindling for most of what passes for rebellion in our culture. And it wasn’t long before A&R scouts discovered that young women were the largest untapped source of resentments, alienation, and, yes, rebellion. Alanis Morissette was the first indication that they’d hit paydirt, but she quickly went on to embrace a kind of new-age ambivalence toward actual anger, and as the tide swung back in the other direction for a couple of years, young women were treated to the made-up faces of Britney and Christina as role models. Which all turned out to be the perfect set-up for Avril Lavigne, a young, guitar-wielding Canadian Lolita who was more than happy to sing angrily about the complications of teenage life and, more important, was capable of writing her own songs.

That latter detail helped ensure that Let Go (Arista) would propel her toward a Grammy win for Best New Artist. And the muscular pop production by the likes of the Matrix ensured that once she’d scored her first bona fide hit, radio would be willing to dig at least two or three deep for singles on Let Go. There’s only one real question that remains about Lavigne: is she just Alanis repackaged for a younger audience, or is she Green Day for girls? The album certainly suggests the former. But Lavigne’s current tour, which hit the 7000-seat Tsongas Arena in Lowell for a sold-out two-night stand last Thursday and Friday, is designed to assert the latter. Indeed, one of the highlights of her Thursday-night set was a note-for-note cover of "Basket Case," an ode to punkish self-loathing from Green Day’s breakthrough album for Reprise, Dookie.

One Green Day cover does not a punk make. But Lavigne, whose heavily made-up face was hidden behind a mop of stringy hair, and whose model dimensions were obscured by a lose pair of combat pants, a black "I’m with Stupid" T-shirt, and a pair of Converse high-tops, has chosen to let her songs speak for themselves by keeping her stage presence simple and largely unadorned, and by putting together a bash-it-out band of boys who make every track from Let Go sound like a Green Day outtake.

The crowd — mostly very young girls and their parental chaperones — weren’t the least bit disappointed. These were girls who’d grown sick of Britney’s shtick (or, perhaps, tired of trying to acquire a Spears-style bustline), and they screamed their appreciation as tiny Avril invited a bunch of kids from the mosh pit up on stage for a little round-robin singing match. By the end of the set, it was hard to see the harm in allowing yet another generation of the young and restless to have its own irreverent heroes. Lavigne will probably never write a line as penetrating as Strummer’s "Turning rebellion into money," but that’s not really her goal — or her purpose.