The Ten Best Male Rock Singers

Everybody seemed to like (or like disagreeing with) my post about the ten best rock guitarists, so I thought I’d do it again, with singers this time. Thecriteria are pretty much the same, feeling over technique, though both are important. Also, one characteristic of a great singer is the instant identification you have when you hear his voice. Right away you know who. That’s an aspect of greatness, recognizable identity.

I’m sure this will be a bit contentious, as before, but that’s part of the fun of it. You can tell me how wrong I am and I’ll tell you how right I am.

This list excludes lots of great singers who straddle the edge between rock and something else. Otis Redding covered “Satisfaction” and would be on the top of any list that included R&B. Likewise Elvis, he’s rock and roll, pre-rock. You get the idea. From sometime in the 60’s onward, singers in front of rock bands.

Well, then, let’s get to it.

10 - Roger Daltrey

Roger’s often gotten a bad rap, and part of it came from Pete Townshend, who talked about how it was Roger and three geniuses, himself, Entwistle and Moon. In this scenario, Roger is just Townsend’s mouthpiece, and while he’s an athletic singer who can belt out a rock song, he somehow isn’t as elevated as Pete and the rest.

Bullcrap. Townsend’s ego has always got the better of him, and he is a genius, so, I guess he gets to stride around, but without Roger’s voice there is no Who. Need proof? Listen to Eminence Front, a good song, but compared with other Who songs, there’s little power of expression there. I like Pete Townsend’s voice in some of the more tender Who songs, like “Sunrise,” which is truly beautiful.

But “Won’t Get Fooled Again” is a song Daltry owns, it’s his, he’s earned it. It talks about big subjects, and Roger conveys them with heart and genuine emotion. In all of Tommy, his singing is incredible. Likewise, across The Who’s big hits. The pinnacle song for me is “Love, Reign O’er Me,” the point in the chorus where he hits the throat tearing, heart piercing word “Love.” This is singing greatness that can’t be denied.

9 - John Fogerty

Every Creedence or Fogerty song qualifies as instantly recognizable. There’s John Fogarty, with his raspy, full voice able to jump up into the high ends, (the ‘yeahs’ in ‘Long as I Can See the Light’) a voice with the ability to convey bleak existentialism, (Who’ll Stop the Rain) raw swampy spooky, (Born on the Bayou) political activism (Fortunate Son) and downright simple joy of playing baseball, (Centerfield) the unbridled enthusiasm of “Put me in coach,” which becomes a line of universal willing spirit. Plus he wrote all those songs, but that’s another story. Nobody can sing a Fogerty song like Fogerty.

8 - Black Francis

The Pixies rose to sizable fame, but it was among a relatively singular group of fans, largely college kids, but they were fervent, by god. I saw the Pixies play at the Orpheum in Boston around 1989 or ‘90, and there was a funny incident where Francis came out into the audience to go up to the soundman, who in the Orpheum is there on the ground floor of seats, in the middle back, and talked for a minute, with nobody recognizing him or taking any notice. Just a slightly rotund guy, plain looking. When they came onstage fifteen minutes later, the whole place, which holds around 2,700 people, jumped to their feet and remained standing on their seats through the whole show, young girls screaming at times like they were seeing The Beatles, only the sing along chorus was “Wave of Mutilation.” I interviewed Francis in Cambridge, MA once, years later, when he was doing one-man acoustic shows, and told him that story, of the crowd screaming and how I thought it seemed like The Beatles and he nodded, smiled a little and said, “Yeah, we had our moments.”

He might not seem like an obvious choice in this list but listen to the intensity of “Monkey’s Gone to Heaven,” “Debaser,” (I am un chien andalusia) or the genuine tender emotion in the quirky “La La Love You.” He also brings a cogent voice the very human, though repressed, reality of the dangerous, swirling waters of the mind, “Where is my Mind” being perhaps the best example. Forget Marilyn Manson, Black Francis is most truly scary singer in rock. He gives voice to the weird, twilight zone, the freaky mysterious. His solo records, as Frank Black, are often overlooked, which is a shame, they’re great, and they run the gamut of great singing. Listen to the emotion of “Cold Heart of Stone.” “If you ever need me, don’t call.” Again, unlike anyone else. If Black Francis had been skinny and beautiful, The Pixies would have been gigantic (ho, ho) but that job was left to the commercial Pixies, known as Nirvana.

7 - Chris Cornell

Speaking of grunge bands, Soundgarden (which never sounded like a grunge band to me, they just came out at the same time) had Chris Cornell, the best singer of those 90’s bands. (As a side note, that mumbly guy the girls all swoon over with the masculine voice from something Jam always sounds like he’s trying so hard to emote, I’m never sure when he really does.) Cornell’s truly menacing vocals in “Black hole Sun,” the mix of anger and vulnerability of “Fell on Black Days,” the ability to alternately rasp and to hit those highs with pure tones. The humanity and heartbreak in his live cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” rivals Sinead O’Connor’s. He struggled with his demons, and succumbed, but his voice travels on.

6 - Mick Jagger

The performer, the showman, the Mick strut, chicken elbows, the pointing to the crowd, the grin, the tongue, the caricature imitated endlessly. I saw them play Fenway years back, and no one, absolutely no one I’ve ever seen can command a crowd the way Jagger can. Out of 35,000 people, he connects to you. How is that possible? I don’t know, but he does it.

But that’s not singing, right? That’s stagecraft. Does he have the voice? Yeah, of course he does. It’s again instantly recognizable, the bluesman growl, the country song exaggerations, the driving rockers, the tender ballads, Jagger propels all of them and pulls you along with the song. “Wild Horses,” the way he phrases the words, drawing out syllables, (is eeeeeassy ta do) the sincere emotion in the chorus, it’s masterful. As is most all of his singing. The bravado of Robert Johnson’s “Stop Breakin’ Down,” the snarl of “The Last Time,” the sexual innuendo of “Little Red Rooster,” the bleak existentialist “Paint It, Black,” the weary tenderness of “Angie,” the crazy glee of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” the palpable menace of “Sympathy for the Devil,” especially in the woo-hoo’s ending it, where one conjures up the image of a dancing demon, impervious, delighted with his role.

Jagger can do all these things with that voice. Does it hit the highest notes? Does it compare to the hard rock screech of so many metal singers, who I’m sure a lot of you will bring up, in blowback?

No. Thank god.

5 - Jim Morrison

Morrison could have been a singer in the 50’s, alongside Dean Martin or Sinatra. He had a great baritone voice, pure, clear, his enunciation was perfect, his pitch likewise, emotionally he could serve it up, convincingly. Listen to The Doors cover of “Alabama Song/Whiskey Bar” from Bertholt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Morrison could have sung in musicals. “The Crystal Ship” is hauntingly, beautifully sung. Then he turns around to do “Break on Through,” as rocking a song as there is, where he shows supreme command of his voice, going from upper register yelps (she gets high - oh yeah…) back to the pureness and clarity of his normal range. Over a short time, three years or so, his voice sounded like it was beginning to fray from that perfect tone of the first four albums. “Roadhouse Blues” shows a touch of the wear of countless drugs and bottles of alcohol, but it still is among the strongest vocal performances Morrison recorded. “LA Woman” from the next album, sounds even more ragged, though it’s another great performance.

Pour in the strange brew, the poetic recitations, the shamanic evocations, we meet a singer on another level, with no precedent in music, going beyond any known boundaries, in an unrestrained mode of streaming consciousness, pulling up mythic gods and personal demons in visionary trips you aren’t always keen to follow, but there you are, in the timeless land of true creation. Listening in rapt attention.

How many singers can do that? One. The answer is one.

4 - John Lennon

When there’s two of the greatest singers of the time (or of any time) in the same band, you’ve got one component that made them The Beatles. John’s voice was the grit to Paul’s polish, though Paul could belt one out like nobody’s business. John, especially on the early records, has outstanding vocal performances, like “Rock and Roll Music,” “Mr. Moonlight,” (one of John’s most impassioned vocals) “Any Time at All,” “I Should Have Known Better.” As time went on and he wrote more complex songs, his vocals perfectly matched the content, such as “In My Life,” where tender reminiscence meets current reality in emotional balance. “Norwegian Wood,” takes the listener inside a bitter, caustic narrative, and the surreal sneer of “I Am the Walrus” is impossible for another singer to pull off credibly. “Yer Blues” is John’s shredding raspy voice, where he describes horrifying suicidal thoughts (the eagle picks my eye, the worm he licks my bones) in the rawest, bleakest honesty any singer has used up until then. On the same White Album, we find “Julia,” a soft voiced, touching tender ode to his mom.

I’m not a big fan of his Plastic Ono Band record, which I can listen to every five years or so, but what he does in “Mother” is some kind of revolutionary soul searing exploration, using primal scream techniques, that is at the least very courageous. Out there on thin ice. His voice in turn grew thin, or that was just the voice he decided to use on the later solo albums, which I can’t listen to much at all.

In his best days, there was no singer on the planet more heartfelt and honest than John Lennon.

3 - Robert Plant

I saw Led Zep in New Hampshire way back when, at a seaside venue of a couple of thousand people, and the microphone cut out in the middle of a song, don’t remember which one now. Plant kept singing, and you could still hear him.

What can you say about Plant that hasn’t been? Rock god, blues-rock belter, the incredible high range of his voice, it’s elasticity, the orgiastic vocal ah-ah-ah on “Whole Lotta Love,” the rising climax of “Stairway,” the wrought-out pain of “Since I’ve Been Loving You,” the sweet bucolic voice of “Going to California,” the hippie tenderness in “What is and What Never Should Be” that morphs into a hard rock chorus, (sail away, leave today) and the effortless way he back and forth’s the parts.

Jimmy Page has become the curator of all things Zep, but Plant’s been out there all along continuing to make excellent new music, lending his superlative voice to Band of Joy, The Strange Sensations, and the Grammy winning match-up chemistry of two radically different voices, his with Alison Krauss. Who’d have thought that would work? He continues to explore music that makes him excited, which singing “Stairway to Heaven” on a multi-million-dollar reunion tour wouldn’t do. Sorry Jimmy. I’m sure the mansion is nice, though. Props to Plant for staying fresh, moving ahead and using his amazing voice in as many different settings as he can.

2 - Freddie Mercury

I have to admit that Queen, to me, was always a guilty pleasure. I like them, songs like “Killer Queen,” with Freddy’s acrobatic swoops and pithy wordplay, the operatic heights of “Somebody to Love,” the genuine affection in “You’re My Best Friend,” it was all good. But the stadium crowd pleasers, “We Will Rock You,” “We are the Champions,” “Tie Your Mother Down,” well, as good as his voice is in carrying those songs, they all just seemed pretty dumb to me. Especially “Bohemian Rhapsody.” I mean, what the hell is that song about? Ok, he kills someone, but who’s Mrs. Miller, and what’s Scaramouch doing in it? He’s a stock character from the Italian Commedia dell’arte, a clown who is supposed to dance, but I mean, it took Mike Meyers to make it all palatable as just a big goofy joke.

However, I have in recent years given up on being judgmental toward Queen. They’re like, ensconced in our culture, everybody loves them, your mother and aunts love them, so what the hell. And Freddy Mercury is hands down the most amazing operatic style rock singer, with the most far-reaching voice, making all of those songs hugely listenable. Who cares what the damn song means, it’s Freddy singing.

Bless his sad and tortured heart.

1 - Paul McCartney

You can see why John sometimes hated Paul. I mean, he loved him too, of course. There’s a new book out called John and Paul, a Love Story in Songs, by Ian Leslie, that examines their intimate bond, which is beyond friends, deep and mysteriously unique. Besides being the best bass player, pianist and guitarist (poor George, though not drummer, Ringo Rules) in the band, he was also the best all-around singer. And that’s why he’s at number one.

He’s the best all-around singer there is. There’s no question that when it comes to ballads, he’s superlative. “Yesterday,” “For No One,” “Eleanor Rigby,” “Blackbird,” “My Love,” “Mother Nature’s Son,” “And I Love Her,” “Calico Skies,” they go on and on. He surely could have been a popular singer outside of The Beatles. But then you have the blistering rockers, “Long Tall Sally,” “I Saw Her Standing There,” “I’m Down,” “Oh Darling,” “Helter Skelter,” “Junior’s Farm,” “Jet,” “Let Me Roll It,” “Birthday,” “Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band,” and everything in between. My god. I’d have to go on for a half an hour more, and my behind is already sore as it is. Everything is sung in perfect fit for every song, from “Rocky Racoon” to “Martha My Dear” to “We Can Work It Out” to “Golden Slumbers” to the very last bit, the last Beatles, the lovely and timeless “…and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love, you make.”

The voice that could do it all. Paul.

*****

P.S. Ok, that’s it, have at it. A little note on my behalf. A lot of Substack posters require you to be a paid subscriber in order to comment, but I’d rather not, I’d rather hear from a lot of people, regular people, not just a list of subscribing elites. However, since I’m not excluding you, if you really like the back and forth of commenting, please - become a paid subscriber, if you can. $4. Less than a cup of coffee, I hear, in places where I would never buy a cup of coffee.

* Coming up, Ten Best Female Rock Singers.