Who was the first female rock star to get a number one song?
Figuring out who was the definitive first to do anything is a minefield. “Rock” itself has become something inherently impossible to define and something that depends entirely on the context of the conversation: are we talking about the originators of the first surge of rock ‘n’ roll? Or the ones that made them? Either way, the point is that establishing a real starting point in any area is hard.
That said, it’s also what makes for some of the most interesting conversations and debates, especially when it’s about who did what better than who – describing The Beatles and The Rolling Stones as innovators might be as easy as breathing, but what does that mean, exactly? If it’s not about originality, is it about how they took the work of earlier pioneers and made them fresh and exciting?
While that’s another debate for another time, one of the most complex talking points with female rock stars is that, whichever way you look at it, there’s far less documentation than their male counterparts. While acts like Stevie Nicks, Debbie Harry and Linda Ronstadt might reflect on the fact that female influences were sparse growing up, there’s also significantly less out there when it comes to celebrating those who shaped the scene and conflicting ideas when it comes to who did what first. How many times have you heard the name Patti Page in spaces about 1950s pioneers?
As with anything, though, it also differs depending on which way you look at it. There are countless women in the ’50s who shaped the parameters of rock ‘n’ roll, from Billie Holiday to Brenda Lee, but none of these are names that usually come up first in conversations about people who invented the genre (if that’s even possible to begin with). It’s a sort of erasure that persists through the ages, diluting the achievements of the first real surge of rock stars who came and smashed the charts more than most.
Who was the first female rock star to get a number one song?
But the following decades presented a surge of female rock stars set on making their names known and commanding a presence that reinstated the importance of female voices in rock, like bursting through the curtain with the kind of standoffish posture that meant others had no choice but to sit up straight and listen.
In 1971, Janis Joplin’s posthumous release ‘Me and Bobby McGee’ secured the charting top spot, marking a turning point for female rock stars where success wasn’t about conformity but reinstating the standards of songwriting with purpose. And not looking the part of the traditional female singer.
Of course, then came a surge in the mid-70s, starting with the success of rock band Fanny (who changed the game for the all-female rock band) and then, of course, peaking with The Runaways in 1976, but while it would take a long time to honour all the women who revolutionised the entire era and changed the genre for the better, it’s hard to find a definitive first number-one before Joplin. Unless, of course, we’re to look at the whole thing differently and consider those with number-ones who weren’t technically considered a part of the same pool (like Lita Roza and Connie Francis).
Still, perhaps that’s a part of a broader, more essential debate about both originality and female makers – it’s easy to name all those who changed everything, like Joni Mitchell, Stevie Nicks, Suzi Quatro, and so on, but analysing them by charting position becomes a different game entirely, especially when certain biases keep us away from finding out the forgotten heroes who paved the way alongside those names.
