Gladys Knight Finally Reveals 5 Female Artists Who Played Dirty to Become Famous | HO!!

The Quiet Queen Speaks

After six decades of roaring applause, sold-out tours, and timeless hits, Gladys Knight — the woman known as the “Empress of Soul” — has finally broken her silence.

At 81, she’s no longer interested in protecting reputations or sugarcoating betrayals. For the first time, Knight has peeled back the layers of glamour and sisterhood that once defined the golden age of Motown, revealing a darker truth: five women who crossed the line, backstabbed her behind closed doors, and turned friendship into quiet warfare.

Behind the smiles and sequins was a battlefield. And as Knight tells it, some of the industry’s most beloved icons were not just rivals — they were saboteurs.

1. Diana Ross — The Label’s Untouchable Queen

They shared stages, tours, and headlines, but Gladys Knight and Diana Ross were never truly friends.

In the late 1960s, both women were at the height of their power at Motown — but while Knight earned her place through relentless work, Ross held hers through proximity to the throne. As Berry Gordy’s romantic partner and the label’s chosen face, Diana Ross became Motown’s golden child.

In November 1970, at the Spectrum in Philadelphia, Knight and the Pips were finally scheduled to close a Motown review show — a long-awaited recognition of her rising stardom. But that afternoon, a black limousine pulled up. Out stepped Diana Ross with a letter from Gordy himself: “Diana Ross will be performing tonight. Please place her in the closing slot.”

Ross hadn’t rehearsed, wasn’t listed on the bill, and didn’t even arrive on time. Yet the entire lineup was rewritten. Knight was quietly pressured to “agree” to the switch.

That night, Gladys sang two songs and earned a standing ovation. Then Diana arrived forty-five minutes late, demanded the lights be reset, sang three songs, and walked off without a bow.

Gladys didn’t say a word — not to Ross, not to the crew. But everyone backstage knew what had happened.

It wasn’t the last time Ross used her power to eclipse others. From yanking mics from fellow Supremes to demanding stage order changes at the NAACP Image Awards, she became infamous for protecting her spotlight.

Knight never called her out publicly. But her silence, even then, was louder than Diana’s applause.

2. Aretha Franklin — The Queen Who Refused to Share the Stage

To the public, Aretha Franklin was untouchable — the Queen of Soul, the voice of a generation. To Gladys Knight, she was something else entirely: a woman who built her empire by keeping others out of the castle.

The tension between the two was an open secret in the industry. They never collaborated, never shared a duet, and rarely acknowledged one another — not out of hatred, but because Aretha didn’t allow equals in her orbit.

The most glaring example came at the 1993 Essence Awards in Atlanta, where both women were being honored. The plan was for them to walk onstage together — two living legends, united. But Aretha arrived late, refused to share a dressing room, and told producers flatly, “No other female artist stands beside me when I walk out.”

When the lights came up, she stood alone. No Gladys, no “moment of unity.” Just the Queen and her crown.

Fifteen minutes later, Knight took the stage with her trademark grace. The applause was polite, but the electricity was gone.

The same pattern repeated for years. Franklin would change set orders, decline duets, and pull strings to control the spotlight. Even in death, the divide lingered — at Aretha’s 2018 funeral, Knight was quietly moved from the closing slot to the opening act. No explanation, no mention of her in the program.

It was a final silent snub from a queen who refused to share her throne.

3. Patti LaBelle — When Friendship Met Ego

For years, Patti LaBelle and Gladys Knight were inseparable — sisters in song, in laughter, in legacy. They toured together, duetted together, and celebrated each other in interviews.

Then, in 1996, the harmony shattered.

The pair were booked for the Sisters of Soul tour alongside Chaka Khan — a celebration of Black female legends. It was supposed to be a shared spotlight. But Patti had other ideas.

Weeks before opening night, LaBelle demanded to close every show, arguing, “I sell more tickets than either of them.” When producers pushed back, she refused to sing backup on shared numbers unless she had her own mic.

Knight, known for her composure, didn’t fight. She simply walked away — withdrawing from marketing materials and later the tour itself.

For nearly a decade afterward, they didn’t speak.

By the 2000 BET Awards, cameras caught the chill: Patti walked past Gladys without a glance. At a Luther Vandross tribute that same year, Patti recorded her vocals separately — in another studio — refusing to meet her old friend.

Their brief reunion at VH1’s Divas Live in 2009 brought polite smiles but visible tension. Patti, as always, closed with a long ad-lib that drowned out Knight’s harmonies.

The applause was thunderous — but for Gladys, the friendship had long since gone silent.

4. Chaka Khan — Sisterhood Turned Shadow

Few rivalries in soul music carry the sting of Chaka Khan and Gladys Knight. Once allies, their fallout was less public — but more painful.

It began in 2004 at Chicago’s Soul Royalty Fest, where the two were set to perform alongside Erykah Badu and Mary J. Blige. Knight was scheduled to close the show — until Chaka intervened.

She reportedly told organizers that the lineup “didn’t fit the modern vibe” and refused to perform unless Knight was moved. Behind closed doors, the message was blunt: “Gladys isn’t hot anymore.”

The producers quietly cut Knight’s slot. No explanation. No apology.

That night, Chaka brought the crowd to its feet with “Ain’t Nobody.” Meanwhile, outside in the parking lot, witnesses saw Knight waiting in her car — still in costume, her makeup untouched by tears she refused to show.

The irony? Years earlier, when Chaka faced public backlash and drug scandals, it was Gladys who defended her in interviews, calling her “a fighter worth believing in.”

But Chaka never returned the grace.

In later years, she would dismiss younger artists like Beyoncé and Adele with the same disdain she once showed her peers, telling one interviewer, “I didn’t learn from them. They learned from me.”

For Gladys, the silence between them was the real heartbreak — a sisterhood erased by arrogance.

5. Martha Reeves — The Sister Who Cut the Mic

The deepest wounds come from those closest to you. For Knight, that wound had a name: Martha Reeves of Martha and the Vandellas.

In the early 1970s, both women were pillars of Motown’s female power. They toured together, broke barriers together, and once shared hotel rooms when the label cut corners on expenses.

But success breeds rivalry.

During the Motown Caravan tour of 1971, Knight was slated to close the show with “If I Were Your Woman.” Reeves was originally scheduled to join her for the finale — a medley celebrating Motown’s female icons.

Then Berry Gordy intervened. The closing act would be Knight alone.

Reeves didn’t take it well. Crew members recalled her storming into the office, slamming her notebook, and threatening to quit unless the lineup was changed. When she failed, she took quieter measures: requesting Knight’s lead mic be replaced with a cheaper one “for balance.”

The sabotage didn’t stop there. Reeves later urged Motown executives to remove Knight from a compilation album, accusing her of having “attitude issues.” It didn’t work — but the damage was done.

When Motown’s 25th anniversary special aired in 1983, Reeves refused to perform if Knight was on the bill. She was cut from the show entirely.

Decades later, Reeves attempted a public redemption — running for Detroit City Council and referencing her “years of being pushed off stage by others.” Fans couldn’t help but note the irony.

Knight, in her memoir, never mentioned Reeves by name. But her line was unmistakable: “Someone once called me sister, sang beside me every night — then cut the cord when the mic went live.”

The Cost of Grace

For decades, Gladys Knight carried herself with dignity — never fueling rumors, never airing grievances. She believed in loyalty, in letting talent speak louder than politics. But now, in her eighth decade, she’s telling the truth — not for revenge, but for release.

What emerges isn’t bitterness. It’s revelation.

Behind every award and standing ovation was a fight for space in an industry where power was currency and kindness was often mistaken for weakness.

And yet, through it all, Knight endured — no scandals, no meltdowns, no broken image. Just a voice that kept soaring.

She outlasted them all.

Because in the end, talent doesn’t need to steal the spotlight — it creates its own.