Number One in the Streets: Beyoncé, Streaming and The End of The Charts

This was originally written in late 2021, finalized in Jan 2022 for the late mag Wear Your Voice—so take that into account when you read 🙂 Interesting to think bout the modern day builds on this now that three years have gone by. Please feel free to leave comments and thoughts.

On one brisk spring day in 2011, my usual music industry internet wormhole led 13-year old me to the popular forum ATRL, a blog where people (mostly gays with time) gather to dissect and discuss pop culture. Multi-hundred-page threads dedicated to fans dissecting the rollout of singles and albums attract thousands of users everyday. Every week folks would predict the charts, informed by daily monitoring of radio performance, and discussions about promotion. While most of these folks are just fans, they’re incredibly knowledgeable about the music industry and sound a lot like executives. According to them, every decision an artist made, down to the hour and minute it was done, contributed to where a song landed on the Billboard charts any given week. While I couldn’t make an account because the website’s servers were full at the time, I lurked and read every page I could. One particular thread detailing the rollout and chart performance of one of my favorite albums of all time brought me back each day.

4 by Beyoncé, which had been out for a few months at the time, was highly anticipated by the world, especially the Beyhive. What kept me coming back to the thread was the tea--I saw nothing but anger. From comments like  “This rollout is trash!” to “Columbia [records] is going to hell,” I soon learned that the album that I had assumed was a bonafide commercial smash (it actually converted me into a real Beyoncé fan) produced Beyoncé’s worst performing singles to date. With not one Hot 100 top ten or top 40 radio hit, and just two top 20 hits that quickly free-fell after peaking, to many “chart nazis” as they were unfortunately called, 4 threatened to disrupt Beyoncé’s reign as the Queen of Pop. But to me, songs like “Love On Top,” “Run The World (Girls),” “Party,” and “Countdown” were earth-shattering records. In the wider Black community–or at least in mine–they were understood as some of Beyoncé’s best, and were literally everywhere. So I shrugged and moved on. This was the first time I recognized a popular artist’s discord with the charts.

Later in the decade, Beyoncé would drop two of the most critically acclaimed [visual] albums of all time with no warning, changing the way (and day) artists release music forever. With both releases, Beyoncé was everywhere, in an even more intense way than before. She stopped the world. And so, I ran to ATRL after both Beyoncé and Lemonade were released, excited to potentially watch her shatter chart records--maybe even debut multiple songs in the top ten. But, once again, I saw anger--and this time I felt it too. Her music wasn’t being promoted to pop radio aggressively. The videos weren’t on YouTube for months. The music was Tidal exclusive for years, severely limiting Billboard points from streaming. According to the ATRL girlies, she was either being sabotaged or sabotaging herself.

Years later, charts aren’t even remotely relevant when we discuss Lemonade and Beyoncé. Critics and the public alike know both albums indubitably changed the music industry. Even with just one Hot 100 top ten from each album, and singles that achieved moderate chart success at best, no music fan would dare label either album a flop or ‘moderate’ success. Now, the phenomenon of Black artists putting out music that moves the culture without proper chart recognition isn’t new–it predates the industry itself. However, this particular discord isn’t the result of the industry’s usual snubbing of Black women nor a label’s bad promo. In the instances of Beyoncé and Lemonade, most people besides ATRL stans didn’t even know nor care that her singles weren’t performing well on the charts because the music was so damn popular. In dropping her albums with no regard for chart metrics or typical rollout rules, Beyoncé made a decision to opt out of the charts. Her atypical, seemingly ‘sloppy’ promotion upon release meant that the charts mathematically did not and could not reflect her impact. She rendered them inaccurate. And it was only possible because of the everchanging musical landscape we live in today. Diversification of music consumption and discovery grants artists license to release music in new and innovative ways, allowing the general public to consume without adhering to what’s popular in Billboard’s eyes.

Now, how did we get here? 

The Billboard Hot 100 was definitely once a go-to destination to discover and understand music for a huge portion of music fans. Whether you looked at the chart or not, from its inception it was interconnected with radio, critics, music television, and every other dictator of what is popular or “good” in music. Whether it was on the main chart or a genre specific one, a chart hit was the crown jewel of the industry, and continues to be in some ways.  However, the charts have also always been extremely subjective, which, considering their definitive nature in many music circles, is problematic. The difference between a #1 peaking song and say, a #4 peaking song, is often negligible. Typically, once you’re talking about the upper quartile of the charts, it comes down to how much money, effort, time and resources were spent on that particular track--and luck. For example, “Super Bass” by Nicki Minaj, which went all the way to #3 in 2011, isn’t necessarily quantifiably less popular than “Grenade” by Bruno Mars, which spent 3 weeks at #1 in the same calendar year. The two pop classics were and continue to be incredibly popular, but back in 2011, the #1 cards just didn’t land in Nicki’s favor. 10 years later, the chart positions of the smash hits are largely irrelevant when discussing their cultural impact. Beyoncé capitalized on this already present subjectivity of the charts by opting out completely, a rejection only made possible by the general public’s everchanging (and dwindling) relationship with the charts. 

Prior to the advent of streaming, music was consumed in three ways--hard merchandise (initially records/cassettes/CDs, and later digital downloads), radio, and television and film. YouTube first arrived in 2005 to diversify the landscape, but it would be years before YouTube views affected the charts. During most of this time, the charts were almost a parent-company to any music consumption platform or tastemaking entity. Today, with Spotify, Apple Music, Tidal, Soundcloud, Bandcamp, Tik Tok, YouTube, and more, artists can control where their music is consumed, and can opt out of the tap dance for chart success and still grow a fanbase. Some artists are huge on Tik Tok and nowhere to be found on radio. Others sweep at the Grammy’s but have barely scraped the charts. It was once largely impossible for a recording artist, especially a Pop star like Beyoncé, to deliver music to fans without delivering to the charts as welll--the two were inextricably linked. It would maybe be seen as a valiant move (avoiding radio, iTunes or record stores in an effort to say f---k you to the charts), but would also mean almost nobody was going to hear your music--even if you were Beyoncé. Now, that is no longer the case. The charts are no longer scripture on what’s hot for people who actively listen to Pop, Rap, Hip-hop and other “mainstream” genres. We’ve seen other artists make similar leaps—even Taylor Swift pulled her music from Spotify in 2014, and her smash album 1989 certainly did not suffer. While they might contain some of the hottest music, the charts mostly represent, besides pure virality, a deliberate choice on behalf of that artists’ team to shoot for them. The average consumer’s perception of the charts as the one-stop, go-to definition of what music is and isn’t popular is changing. And like many things, it all (mostly) goes back to Beyoncé. 

Watching the charts transform, flail and react over the last decade in response to the ever-evolving ways we consume, assess and remember music has been wildly illuminative. Obviously, it is important to note that it’s much easier for Beyoncé than a lesser known emerging or established artist to take risks like this. But, when I started really paying attention to popular music trends in the mid 2000s, something like what Beyoncé did with Lemonade and Beyoncé really wasn’t possible for anyone. This shift is one of the most monumental in the history of music, especially for Black people, who have long been marginalized by segregated charts being the marker of success. Frank Ocean has multiple projects widely recognized as canonical masterpieces without flashy chart accolades attached to his singles. SZA’s CTRL didn’t even produce a top 25 hit on the charts, but has amassed over 2 billion streams (2025 update: 5B) and a slot on Rolling Stone’s updated “500 Greatest Albums of All Time” list. Frank Ocean has songs with upwards of a billion streams that barely cracked the Hot 100 (see “Nights,” #98, 2018)--the key is nobody cares. Artists are beginning to be able to stake their claim as musical legends outside of their chart history. And as for the charts? They are becoming their own niche genre now. 

This is a historical shift. The entire structure of the popular music industry has been designed around the charts for decades--artists consistently dropped music on Tuesdays because the Billboard data “tracking week” began on Tuesdays.. And now “New music Friday” is only a thing because Beyoncé’s Friday album release in 2014 pushed Billboard to alter its tracking week to start on Friday and end on Thursday. Now, artists like Tyler, The Creator are daring to shake this table again. More and more artists tangibly have the power to exist outside of the charts. Marginalized artists have long been held to the same chart standards yet underfunded by labels, ambushed by racist radio segregation and “genre” categorizations, and forced to compete for positions generated by a company that just 30 years ago named its R&B and Hip-Hop chart “Hot Black Singles”--like a cringey dating app. This legacy is still ingrained in how the charts function, even if the names have changed around. The shift to seeing the charts as an entity that will perhaps always be around but isn’t the most prominent or sole marker of a song’s success is one of the first steps to truly liberating ourselves from the bureaucracy that is the Industry, capital I. It gives artists the creative freedom to market themselves in new and imaginative ways. Even chart powerhouses like Olivia Rodrigo and Doja Cat perform deep cuts off of albums at major award shows that were once exclusively dedicated to performing whatever single you were trying to push to #1 during that time. We can finally imagine a world where artists are unshackled from designing their every move around an elusive chart--it’s happening before our very eyes. 

The arrival of 4 marked the end of an era, and not just because 4 and Spotify debuted just weeks apart. While I believe Bey’s chart fumbles were extremely intentional when it comes to Beyoncé and Lemonade, I don’t think they were on 4. I think some of that reaction stemmed from pop radio and the charts’ lukewarm response to the more traditional R&B sounding 4. Now, ten years later, the charts are less tapped into popular music than ever. Bey said it best herself on “NICE” (2018): “If I gave two fucks two fucks ‘bout streaming numbers / Woulda’ put Lemonade up on Spotify / Fuck you.” 

It’s time for artists--and especially Black artists--to do what they want. If they want to go after chart success they should - plenty of Black artists this decade like The Weeknd, Lizzo, and Lil Nas X have found success there. And that’s the key: autonomy. The music world is transforming into a place where if your music speaks to people, you can have a career, regardless of what Billboard says. 

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CD Radio is run by Cahleb. Cahleb is a music lover and culture aficionado originally hailing from Spring Valley, NY, where he grew up in an artistic family and fell in love with music before he could speak. This adoration as a vocalist and industry nerd developed into a passion for artist development, tastemaking, and creative producing. He got his formal starts in the industry in radio at Entercom/Audacy and later in live music at Wasserman/Paradigm, working under Head of Global Music Marty Diamond. He has since worked on the team of EMMY-award winning film composer aka Succession maestro Nicholas Britell and worked on the Music Marketing team at Spotify where he managed award-winning campaigns featuring artists like Doja Cat, Victoria Monét, Summer Walker, Doechii and Coco Jones. Cahleb now runs "CD Radio," a music and culture editorial platform and ecosystem where he curates new music recommendations, reviews tracks and consults several independent artists across LA and NYC. 

Cahleb holds a bachelor’s degree from Harvard University in History & Literature and currently resides in Brooklyn, NY.