The 20 best frontpeople in modern rock

There are lots of great rock records out there, albums that have changed lives for the better in countless ways. But we’ve all had the subsequent letdown of an experience: Going to see the artist live, and coming away underwhelmed. Being a great frontperson in a rock and roll band is a very different matter than being a great rock musician; the skillsets often overlap, but as anyone who has seen Bob Dylan on an off-night can attest, there’s plenty of room for divergence.Consider the following, then, a list of great frontpeople. When putting together this roster of artists, the primary consideration wasn’t necessarily our favorite musicians, or whose music we love the most. It was about identifying the performers with that indefinable quality of charismatic showmanship—people who go above and beyond playing the songs as best they can, with as much heart as they can muster, to provide something more. It’s about celebrating the musicians who consider a live show a show, first and foremost. They want to deliver a night you’ll never forget, whether it’s via theatrics, bombastic energy, or simply a degree of personal magnetism that makes it impossible to look away; those are the qualities of a great rock and roll frontperson. In order to keep this focused on the modern era (and retain a manageable size for this feature), we’ve made the admittedly arbitrary choice to include only bands and musicians who began releasing albums in the past 20 years. In others words: Yes, Mick Jagger is still a great frontman, but he doesn’t need our endorsement. Similarly, artists that we consider tremendous frontpeople, but who began their work before the cutoff date, were summarily disqualified. (Sorry, John Dwyer of The Osees; we all agreed you would dominate any other list.) Also, this is a list of American rock, as should be self-explanatory. And lastly, artists were granted exemptions if they began a wholly new project in the previous two decades: Thus, the presence of Jenny Lewis as a solo act and Craig Finn as the singer of The Hold Steady, despite their former bands Rilo Kiley and Lifter Puller. Given that this is an obviously authoritative list, and not at all simply the votes of a handful of music critics who couldn’t possibly have seen every frontperson that’s blown you away in recent years, we encourage everyone to make their own nominations in the comments. And if you’re especially annoyed someone didn’t make the cut, rest assured, they were right there at number 21.

St. Vincent remains a messiah of guitar rock. Over the last decade, she created her own sound, and there’s no mistaking her lasting legacy on the genre of rock. She remains a dynamic tour de force on stage, fully committing to each album’s feel and look. Even as her music’s cooled into its ’70s funk state, she still takes the time to absolutely shred when revisiting her older material. St. Vincent lets loose at all the right times, and cranks it up when the moment begs for it. She’s a master of piecing together a cohesive yet unpredictable performance, surrounded by an untouchable air. All of which is to say, she’s just so fucking cool. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

It’s not hard to find encomiums to the greatness of Bartees Strange’s live performances , but what these can’t quite capture is the way that Strange, still early in his career, isn’t just impressing audiences. He’s winning them over from scratch; many crowds are seeing him for the first time, often on tours where he’s the opening act. And from that blank slate, the energy and audacity of his musicianship is converting them from inattentive to awed—whether blazing away on his guitar or delivering come-hither exhortations that both endear and impress, Bartees Strange is infusing his sets with a larger-than-life passion that makes intimate venues feel as bombastic as an arena—but the whole crowd gets to be front row, center. [Alex McLevy]

If Turnstile are the pop-rock antidote to uptight hardcore, then Brendan Yates is the hand wielding that medicine. He wants to make you dance in the mosh pit—not windmill, but really dance. If you follow his lead, it’s quite easy to do. Yates wiggles his arms like he’s impersonating Squidward, twirls the microphone stand like it’s his ballroom partner, and sways his hips side to side like a child learning how to dance for the first time. He’s gangly and bold and delightfully coltish. Watching Yates dance, you can’t help but imagine how much more fun hardcore—and music at large—would be if frontpeople were willing to put themselves out there on the regular, unafraid of potentially embarrassing themselves or doing the uncool thing. Turnstile understand the extent to which their concerts have propelled them towards fame—hence the “You really gotta see it live to get it”—and that’s only made them ham it up even more, with Yates fearlessly leading the charge each night. [Nina Corcoran]

When Paramore emerged in 2004, Hayley Williams broke barriers in pop punk as one of the first huge female bandleaders within the genre. Though many of Paramore’s contemporaries haven’t survived the ever-changing landscape of the music industry, the band’s lasting power comes from Williams knowing how to command a stage. From the get-go, she was a captivating performer, with explosive energy and lyrics that packed a bite that matched that vigor. Paramore has gone through various phases—including tackling an ’80s pop-inspired sound on 2017's After Laughter—but Williams has never lost that spark that makes Paramore such a fun band. Though her solo material is far more pared down, she’s shown that she’s just as compelling while playing a stripped down set as she is when she’s belting out songs off Riot! [Tatiana Tenreyro]

When you think of singer-songwriters in a live setting, it’s pretty safe to assume there’s a lot of standing still and strumming a guitar happening, with precious little else going on. Chris Farren flips that idea on its head by being equal parts carnival barker, Chuck E. Cheese animatronic band, and that . He plays alone, but he turns a solo set into a multimedia experience, ditching the guitar and wading into the audience to corral the crowd into elaborate bits of crowd participation. Just as his merch promises, every show is , in part because it defies all expectations of what a set should be—or even could be. [David Anthony]

When Mitski graces the stage, it’s not just a performance, but performance art. She loses herself in the music, dancing to and fro with calculated choreography. Every single motion is done with intention and complete focus; she may take a moment to address the audience once or twice, true, but it’s not long before she’s slipping back into her own world. It’s entrancing, regularly leading audiences to wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. Off-stage, she maintains this air of mystery, taking extended time off and bearing a general reluctance to share details about her personal life. Still, it’s onstage where the magic happens. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Call him what you want: An indie-rock Springsteen, a nerdy Bob Seger, or just a hyper-literate guy who stumbled into fronting a band that represents so much to so many. The “world’s greatest bar band” succeeds in part thanks to Finn’s knack for bringing something undeniably distinctive to rock, a value that’s often been in short supply for the Gen X and millennial bands that preceded them: An earnest and guileless celebration of old-school rock, without apology. As opposed to many of his slacker-rock contemporaries, Finn never tried to come across as too cool for rock and roll—or even cool at all, really. He proudly embraced positivity and the power of three chords, in a way that felt like your favorite local live group made good and wanted to spread the word. Eight albums in, it seems to have worked. [Alex McLevy]

Hop Along’s Frances Quinlan doesn’t need to pull stunts on stage; witty banter isn’t necessary, either. The reason why Hop Along has become one of the most critically-acclaimed indie folk rock bands is because of Quinlan’s distinct, powerful voice. Quinlan has been compared to Janis Joplin many times before, but that feels like a disservice. Their voice is raspy yet melodic, with a comforting quality that can silence a room. Though Quinlan’s voice sounds amazing enough on albums, the magnitude of it isn’t fully understood until seeing the band live. It feels like seeing a legend—honestly, like an indie Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey—perform; as much as you want to belt out the catchy songs along with them, it almost feels shameful to do so when someone with so much talent is performing. [Tatiana Tenreyro]

It can be hard to pinpoint what makes Jeff Rosenstock’s live performances so memorable, so magnetic. Yes, there’s the high-energy freneticism of a passionate punk rocker who came up through ska and punk bands before setting out on his solo career roughly a decade ago. And yes, there’s the live-wire unpredictability of a guy who seems as likely to launch himself over the amplifiers as he is to stand and play. And sure, he’s nailed down the one-with-the-crowd magnetism of a born showman who’s never stopped believing in the communal power of music. But it’s all those things combined that make him great—there’s no separating his various talents, because they work in tandem. The results are electric. [Alex McLevy]

Out the gate, Charly Bliss made a name for themselves as an indie pop band with energy to spare. That’s largely thanks to Eva Hendricks, their lead singer and guitarist. The only way to tell if a live video is from the beginning of a Charly Bliss’ set or the end is to look for a single bead of sweat on her face, but these days, she never seems to get tired. Whether she’s pogoing multiple feet in the air while fervently strumming her guitar, or shrieking into the microphone with the high-pitched joy of a toddler, Hendricks goes out of her way to put the “play” in playing live. Watching her perform onstage feels like you’re being handed a glitter-covered invitation to the over-the-top birthday party you always dreamed of. It’s there that Hendricks’ stamina knows no bounds, and unsurprisingly, she knows how to draw out that same energy from the crowd. [Nina Corcoran]

There’s a dozen different ways to approach being a hardcore vocalist, and Soul Glo’s Pierce Jordan opts for perhaps the most introspective of them all. Make no mistake, Jordan’s got energy to spare, but while he’s effectively rapping over the top of hardcore songs—tossing out more words than anyone else in the scene—he carries the energy of Martin Sorrondeguy in Los Crudos, effectively serving as a knowledgable source of truth that keeps you hanging on his every syllable. It’s a unique space to occupy; never coming across as a stern lecturer, but someone whose every word feels impactful and worth hearing, whether that’s during songs or in between them. [David Anthony]

Upon Rilo Kiley’s dissolution in 2013, Lewis introduced a new era of her music, with multiple solo albums and separate projects like supergroup Nice As Fuck (NAF) and Jenny and Johnny, her former duo with ex-partner Johnathan Rice. Her performances are captivating: With Nice As Fuck, , dancing with audience members and mingling with the crowd, making you feel like you’re part of the show, too. In her solo sets, you can tell she’s thrilled to be on stage. She has no interest in simply standing and playing music; instead, she makes use of every inch of the stage, engaging with the audience and showing off her moves. No matter if you’re a longstanding fan of her work or a new fan (like many of those who got to see her perform on tour with Harry Styles), she makes sure those in attendance get a memorable show. [Tatiana Tenreyro]

Drain’s Sam Ciaramitaro has been , and that’s a pretty perfect analogy for his infectious, hyperactive stage presence. But while he’s bouncing all over the stage—and dodging stage divers with boogie boards, no less—he makes all the potential violent moments of a hardcore show feel like an open invitation. There’s the feeling that, for as heavy as Drain can get, Ciaramitaro is your mosh pit camp counselor, telling you that you can jump on those people and not get hurt, and that maybe even a wall of death isn’t really that scary. [David Anthony]

Michelle Zauner approaches every show with exuberance, and—with this last album’s tour—unadulterated joy. She opens her current set with “Paprika,” banging on a shimmering gong throughout the song, bringing it to a new level by adding new textures. Each of her tracks take on a new life when brought to the stage, and that’s what makes her compelling as a performer. Even her voice takes on new, bright qualities, and the extent of her talent as a showman and musician is showcased. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Watching Dan Campbell command a crowd feels a hell of a lot like going to church. When you consider how much of The Wonder Years’ lyrics concern religious contemplation and outright rejection, this is either incredibly ironic or incredibly fitting. Campbell, of course, has crisp vocals and thrashes around onstage with the familiar match-meets-powder-keg energy that’s a prerequisite for every great pop punk frontperson. But he also addresses his crowd with a lilting cadence and infectious conviction that’s not unlike a preacher behind a pulpit, and it’s difficult to observe a crowd screaming Campbell’s poignant lyrics about depression, burnout, aging, and grief back at him without feeling significantly changed. [Shanicka Anderson]

In the late 2000s, Screaming Females became a word-of-mouth band that pretty much everyone told you to see live. More than 15 years later, that still holds true. Unfamiliar concertgoers are regularly awestruck watching singer-guitarist Marissa Paternoster go wild onstage, bellowing notes seemingly too deep for someone who’s barely five feet tall to emit. As a guitarist, she shreds gratuitously and rapidly—so much so, she’s heralded as making Jack White —while convulsing mid-solo, as if a demon has taken ahold of her limbs. Watching Screaming Females perform live, you get the feeling Paternoster would win in a guitar battle against just about anyone, but she wouldn’t be interested in doing so, because the whole affair would be too self-serious. She’s a tornado of a guitarist who knows how to put on a show, and you can’t look away even if you wanted to. [Nina Corcoran]

Before My Chemical Romance, no one in the worlds of emo or pop-punk would have been compared to Freddie Mercury or David Bowie… but then Gerard Way came along. Taking cues from arena-made stars, and mixing them with a healthy dose of Davey Havok’s goth-punk brooding, Way was able to take those component parts and convincingly turn songs about youthful alienation into uplifting rallying cries. With a single arm thrust out in front of him, he’d metaphorically put the audience in the and then never let go. It’s the reason that, since My Chemical Romance first went on hiatus, their fans have been trying to will the band back into existence. And with their reunion tour finally slated to begin, there’s no doubt that Way will be working crowds into a frenzy all over again. [David Anthony]

Has there ever been a bandleader in indie rock who seemed happier to be there than Alex Luciano? Whereas most of the artists on this list command the stage through a seriously passionate intensity (emphasis on serious), the singer for Diet Cig radiates her passion through a pure, infectious joy. Her smiling enthusiasm is the kind of happy, unfettered freedom that many musicians can describe; few embody it with such high-kicking abandon. To watch Luciano perform is to be transported to a place where judgment and image-consciousness disappear; all that remains is a celebratory, almost fey, collective embrace of the exhilarating catharsis of indie pop-rock. [Alex McLevy]

Pat Flynn is a walking refutation of the adage “Less talk, more rock.” The hardcore vocalist became a living legend with Have Heart, his first hardcore band, in the 2000s by touting straightedge values and booking beyond the western world. Now, his post-hardcore band Fiddlehead is continuing that tradition through lyrics and speeches alike. Usually vocalists who preach personal causes sound cheesy at best, and condescending at worst. But Flynn, a frontperson whose life is defined by caring deeply about those around him, is too passionate to mock. His stage banter is full of bite-sized history lessons, optimistic pick-me-ups, and odes to rehabilitation that are earnest and inspirational. When Flynn uses the stage to imagine a better world, you can’t help but believe that it’s possible. [Nina Corcoran]

When Sasami Ashworth was a member of Cherry Glazerr on synths, she often acted just as commanding on stage as bandleader Clementine Creevy. She’d interact with audience members; make odd, attention-grabbing moves; and play synths with as much fervor as someone would play the drums. So it made perfect sense when Sasami quit the band to start her solo project. Her performances under her own name are a bit more serious and subdued than her Cherry Glazerr days, but she’s still an enthralling performer with plenty of wild moments—including —and she’s a hell of a guitar player, too. [Tatiana Tenreyro]