https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LftzRjilTEI David Byrne was the most un-rock person around. He was like a shy kid playing in front of relatives yelping out his lyrics quick as possible, trying small dance moves with serious caution. Even as his stage presence developed, Byrne walked a line between musics exultant release and the repressing force of anxiety. He was the whitest and highest-strung guy youd ever seen, but letting himself cut loose. Byrne wore pastel polo shirts in a black leather era. He uttered only a thank you between each song. In moments of playing and singing, his head lolled and shook on his telescoping neck. He had a hungry twelve-year-olds body, which he used to dance in ways most males would never attempt. Specifically his enthusiastic hip-swiveling was just plain weenie-ish, but refreshingly so. He wrote songs about pieces of paper, apartment buildings, rude animals, and air. Its like he never learned or thought to be rockish. Byrnes singing voice was reedy, but he had a bold sense of vocal adventure. He strained out high notes. He yipped, cackled, and barked. The beauty of David Byrne was that, unlike some others on this list, his choice to be unusual didnt seem to be a conscious one. With his eyes glued to someplace above the audience, he just managed to be truthful on stage. In his own words: Sometimes I want to sing words that are very heartfelt, but they come out sounding like I'm being strangled."