I can bring laughter or sudden tears, a whisper carried across the years. I warm, I ache, I come unbid what am I that never truly hid?

I got a hole that hungers to be filled And once i'm satisfied, a path will be revealed

The base is my wingman. I didn’t get electrified until the nineteen thirties. Typically six strings that are strummed or plucked. What a fender bender, a famous maker didn’t even learn to play me.

I wear a tuxedo, but attend no ball. I fly underwater, defying gravity's call. On icy stages, I waddle and stand tall. What am I?

As a verb, you do this with a bad habit that you want to stop doing. As a noun, you can find me in raised sidewalks.