As excited as I am for Buffalo and the progress that will be made in 2015, I can’t imagine this city without the presence of entertainer Lance Diamond.
I was fortunate to live just a few doors from Lance, and got to know him very well over the years. But you didn’t have to live near Lance to consider him a friend. If you were a Buffalonian, then you were a friend to Lance. Whether you were adhering one of his stickers to your forehead at The Bash, or honking at him as he sat in front of the Elmwood Lounge on a warm summer’s day, Lance was constantly on our collective minds, and was/is a figurehead that we will never forget.
Lance would do anything for anyone. And we would do anything for him.
When I first heard that the iconic Buffalo frontman (he fronted for himself – he was his own brand) had passed, I immediately recalled an incident that happened last winter on a cold, snowy day. As I pulled out of my driveway, I noticed Lance standing in the street, looking a bit bereft (which was unusual for Lance). It turned out that he had locked his keys in his car, which was still running. So I pulled over and demanded that he get in my car to warm up, as he looked half frozen. After declining a couple of times, he finally acquiesced and climbed into my car. For half an hour we talked about Buffalo, his gigs, the street, the city, and the people that he considered his flock. We joked around, we laughed, and when help finally arrived we said our “goodbyes”. As he walked away I told Lance that I was sure that the next Buffalonian driving down the street would have done the same thing, and he knew that I was right. Regardless, the next day a bottle of tequila mysteriously appeared at my front door.
Lance always had a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. All he ever wanted was for Buffalo to love him for who he was. Of course Buffalo did love him. His biggest fear was not being relevant. He never wanted to fade away. He wanted to ‘go out’ as the star that he always was.
When my friend and I saw the ambulance pull up to Lance’s house the other day, not for a moment did I think that that was going to be the last time that I would see the Buffalo music icon. I was aware that Lance had experienced health issues over the years, but he always managed to bounce back. This time, that was not the case.
Lance Diamond embodied the soul of Buffalo. He was a fighter, with big dreams. Instead of being a small fish in a big pond, Lance chose to be a “whale” in Buffalo. He was a figurehead here, where he was respected and appreciated everywhere he went. The man would get catcalls from his admirers no matter where he was, at home sitting on his porch or walking down Elmwood. He had a sandwich named after him. He had the flashiest clothes and accessories that any lounge singer could ever possibly dream of. He had adoring fans that would go to the ends of the earth for him. And he had a friend in each and every one of us.
While life in the spotlight can seem like all fun and games, he fought hard for everything that he had. Lance worked tirelessly to earn our respect, despite health concerns. The man had a work ethic that we rarely see this day and age. No one will ever be able to fill his shoes, or his custom suits.
Thankfully Lance never faded away. He went out in the spotlight, still performing as if he was 20 years old, which amazed and inspired all of us. Buffalo will never be the same again, I am sorry to say. At the same time, this city was “one in a million” for having such a rock star in its midst for as long as it did.
Lance’s memory will be with us forever. His dynamic soul helped to shape this city, one performance, one wave, one wink at a time.
Lance, my friend, you will be missed dearly, by those near and far.
The city has changed once more. Thankfully your fiercely beating heart (that always bled Buffalo) will continue to inspire those who you met along the way. Your legacy is secure in the Queen City that will always have a King.
Photo: Joe Cascio