Tear one off and scratch my head, what once was red is black instead.

In the air it flies, whispers sweetly, never lies. A dance of notes, a gentle breeze, a balm for hearts, a soul's ease.

In origins I was not in existence; this tube based system required manual assistance. Then a clicker came by, connected by string; until infrared changed the scene. My onomatopoeic name changed to this singular six letter answer, all about control.

Replace my first with an F and you can start a fire Take away my first and you'll find it in a dryer. I'm the twinkle in an eye, or a flicker of light My first four start the Good witch off right

I'm a curious execption, an unusual guest. Kinda weird, different from the rest. I'm a stranger in a familiar crowd. What am I, the one that stands out?