Answer:
I cannot be felt seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
I have every color but no gold.
I can sizzle like bacon, I am made with an egg. I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole. I can be long, like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole. What am I?
Many people own a copy of me. Without me the world would fall.
What can you break even if you never pick it up or touch it?
I am a rock group with four members. All dead one was assassinated.