Ask ten people what makes an artist “great” and you’ll get ten different answers.
Talent, impact, longevity, cultural relevance, innovation—the list is long and subjective.
But when it comes to Beyoncé, it’s hard to deny that she checks every box. After raving reviews of both the Renaissance World Tour and the recent Cowboy Carter Tour, I can confidently say that Beyoncé is not just a great artist; she sets the bar for what the standard of an elite artist of our generation should be and beyond.
Cowboy Carter broke genre barriers and shattered records. The 32-show tour grossed over $400 million across just nine cities, drawing in 1.5 million attendees and officially making Beyoncé the highest-grossing Black artist in history.
I wasn’t able to attend the Cowboy Carter Tour; however, I did attend the Renaissance World Tour and it was unlike any concert experience I’ve had in years. The storytelling, the production design, the vocal precision, the choreography and the electric energy of the Beyhive were otherworldly. She’s telling a story with cultural depth, aesthetic brilliance and artistic intentionality. And here’s the truth: among her “peers” (a term I use loosely, because she really has none), no one else is producing this level of quality across music, visual art and performance over nearly three decades of relevance.
Much of this didn’t happen by chance. I’ve read multiple interviews with Beyoncé’s father and former manager, Dr. Mathew Knowles, who shared the blueprint behind her rise. He emphasized strategic brand development, saying he created the roadmap for her long-term success, not just in music, but as a brand and cultural force.
His early influence, business acumen and emphasis on work ethic built the foundation Beyoncé now stands on. Her original bandmates, Destiny’s Child and sister Solange have all experienced this impact. That kind of continuity is rare and speaks volumes about the intentional infrastructure behind her career.
What’s also rare? Achieving this level of success without scandals, public meltdowns, or career-derailing controversies. Beyoncé emerged in a pre-social media era, where success required raw talent, hard work and grit. Today, almost anyone can go viral with a dance challenge or a catchy hook.
In fact, the music industry’s current state underscores just how exceptional Beyoncé is. Artist development, the kind that nurtures long-term greatness, is virtually nonexistent. Labels now prioritize artists with existing social media traction. Platforms like TikTok reward instant hits, not sustained careers. Independent artists face an uphill battle, often without the resources to truly grow. Everyone wants a viral moment. Few are building a legacy.
Beyoncé’s trajectory mirrors elite athletes, who train in academies and spend years honing their skills before ever stepping on a global stage. The music industry, in contrast, lacks that kind of developmental infrastructure. There’s no training ground, no system designed to support artistic growth from childhood to superstardom.
But Beyoncé had that. She had a family who shielded her, trained her and built her up. She had years of practice, development and discipline. She had space to experiment and evolve, much like the great artists of the ’60s and ’70s who weren’t pressured to deliver hits overnight. She had the time and space to become great, a luxury most modern artists can’t afford.
Take a look at Motown Records and its founder, Berry Gordy. He pioneered artist development, creating an “assembly line” of training that refined artists’ image, performance skills and social graces. Motown’s artistic approach emphasized meticulous attention to detail, from grooming and etiquette to stage presence and choreography, to create an image of elegance and professionalism. That’s why he produced superstars such as The Jackson 5, Diana Ross & The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Lionel Richie and the Commodores, Gladys Knight & The Pips and many others.
So is Beyoncé the last of her kind? Possibly. But maybe she doesn’t have to be.
We need to rethink what it means to develop talent. We need music academies and mentorship programs like we have in sports. We need systems that help artists build sustainable careers. Virality on the internet is one thing, but performing in front of millions is a different ball game.
Beyoncé always finds ways to outdo herself. She doesn’t chase trends; she sets them. She understands culture, politics and people. And she speaks through her music without ever needing to scream into the void of the algorithm.
Some will say, “There will never be another Beyoncé,” just like people once said, “There will never be another Michael Jackson” or “another Michael Jordan.” And yet, greatness finds a way. It’s rare, but not extinct. I believe someone is watching her closely. Learning. Studying. Dreaming.
So yes, Beyoncé might be the last greatest artist for now. But if we rebuild the system, invest in the journey and stop treating talent like it’s disposable, maybe we’ll witness greatness rise again.
Until then, Beyoncé remains the bar.
