Photograph: Michael Ochs Archvies/Getty


Motown legend and Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin, has been named the greatest singer of the rock era in a poll conducted by Rolling Stone magazine.

The boys she beat for this honor include: Ray Charles (2), Elvis Presley (3), Sam Cooke (4) and John Lennon (5). The poll from Rolling Stone consisted of a panel of 179 music industry experts. Alongside the magazine's editors, music producers and industry professionals, the panel included Metallica frontman James Hetfield, Keith Richards, David Crosby and James Blunt.

Aside from the 66 year old Franklin, the only living artists in the magazine's Top 10 are Bob Dylan (7) and Stevie Wonder (9).

Marvin Gaye was polled at 6, Otis Redding at 8 and James Brown at 10.

Rolling Stone names Aretha Franklin the best rock era singer

From Giants Among Us:
By Annette Marie Hyder
Originally published in Empowerment4Women Magazine

I wonder what it feels like to own a word—the way that Aretha Franklin owns the word "Respect"—to have it so closely associated with oneself as to be immediately associated with one's name and/or face.

Did you know that the song that made "Respect" and "Aretha" synonymous was originally written and released by a man, Otis Redding? He wrote the song from a male perspective—as a request for respect from a woman. Ms. Franklin reversed the roles in her version and the song went on to become a landmark for the feminist movement.

Ms. Franklin's version of the song contains the famous respect lines:

R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB

These lines were entirely ad-libbed by Ms. Franklin.

With her big yell out for RESPECT—done in the moment and ad libitum—did Ms. Franklin know that she was creating a signature song for herself as well as the feminist movement; and making of herself an icon? I don't think so. I think she was living her life in an impassioned manner and using her voice to have her say. And in so doing she became a giantess imbued with a power in symbol that even outplays her voice.

It is her version of the song—her words—that make us jump up to dance and shake our finger in the air and our hips in defiance. We can lip synch to her words—we can karaoke—but can we carry that tune ourselves?

I think so. I think we can step up to the mic and metaphorically belt out our own versions of respect—feel like Ms. Franklin, in all of her fiery impassioned soulfulness and soaring lyrics.

There are giants that came before us—their shadows lengthen with the years. And we are children, metaphorically, of these giants. But I don't see us as playing in their shadows. I see us climbing on their shoulders. And we will shout our own songs from those heights; be mindful of the shifting light and make some shadows of our own.