I’ve noticed something interesting about the tribute-music scene here on Long Island. The same musicians seem to keep popping up in different bands, sometimes playing completely different music. At first, I jokingly referred to it as musical chairs.
I’ve since decided I had it wrong.
Maybe it’s musical high-chairs.
After all, not every musician leaves a band because of disagreements or bruised egos. Sometimes they simply outgrow what they’re doing, want to explore something different, or are looking for their next challenge.
Lance Millard is a pretty good example.
My first introduction to Lance came at 89 North, where I photographed him playing keyboards with Bad Animals, the Long Island tribute to Heart. He was positioned behind the keyboards, somewhat in the shadows while Mark “The Animal” Mendoza and Diane Lutz occupied the downstage area.
The next time I encountered him was at The Paramount, where he was performing with Hugo’s Voyage, the Journey tribute. Again, Lance was off to the side, although this time he was positioned farther into the stage picture rather than tucked away with the drummer.
At that point, I simply knew him as a talented keyboard player who seemed to be popping up in some of the tribute acts I was photographing.
Then I discovered something else.
Lance had his own Sir Elton tribute.
Now that got my attention.
Lance and I had previously exchanged messages through Facebook, so we were familiar with each other, even though we’d never actually met in person. When I saw that his Elton John tribute was performing at The Argyle Theater in Babylon, I had to check it out. Lance was kind enough to put me on the guest list, and I’m glad he did.
What I witnessed was a completely different Lance.
This time, he wasn’t simply the guy behind the keyboards supporting somebody else.
He was the show.
The music, costumes, props and stage lighting all came together to create the kind of theatrical experience I believe a tribute should provide. Of course, there were the glasses, the feather boas and the unmistakable Elton John flair, but it went well beyond simply dressing the part.
Lance delivered an evening of Elton magic, running through the hits and giving the audience the full experience. His custom baby grand piano and Elton-inspired costumes added another visual layer to a performance that was clearly designed to be more than a collection of songs.
Then came a surprise.
For a special performance of “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” Lance was joined by local vocalist Melissa Lotardo, standing in for Kiki Dee. It was one of those unexpected moments that made the evening even more memorable.
By now, I was beginning to realize that Lance had quite a few musical chairs—or perhaps high-chairs—around Long Island.
And I hadn’t even discovered them all yet.
Lance has also performed with Bad Medicine, the Bon Jovi tribute fronted by Steve Sage. In fact, when Lance and I finally met in person, our conversation touched on exactly this phenomenon.
I told him about the different places I’d seen him: Bad Animals, Hugo’s Voyage and his Elton John tribute. That’s when I learned there was yet another chair at the table.
But here’s where I think the “musical chairs” analogy can sometimes be misleading.
A musician moving from one band to another doesn’t necessarily mean something went wrong.
In speaking with Lance, I learned that his departure from Bad Medicine wasn’t about animosity. He simply wanted to explore other musical opportunities and see what else he could do. I also spoke with Steve Sage, who confirmed that there were no hard feelings.
And honestly, I think that’s a pretty healthy way to look at it.
Musicians grow.
Their interests change.
New opportunities come along.
Sometimes they simply want to challenge themselves.
And if you’re a musician with the talent and versatility to move between different projects, why wouldn’t you?
But Lance’s Long Island tribute work represents only part of his musical story.
According to his professional biography, his career extends well beyond the local tribute scene. He has toured nationally with Steve Augeri, who served as Journey’s lead vocalist from 1998 through 2006, performing keyboards and vocals. He has also recorded and toured with 1980s rock artist Fiona, performed with the theatrical rock band Angel, and worked with Billboard Live.
There’s another interesting chapter to his association with Journey. The group we knew as Hugo’s Voyage began as a Journey tribute and later developed an original-music identity, releasing Inception through Frontiers Music Srl in 2023, with Lance contributing keyboards. The Journey tribute itself continues as Voyage.
And here’s another little surprise:
Before becoming the keyboardist and vocalist I’ve come to know, Lance was primarily a drummer.
That’s one of those details that makes me stop and reconsider the musician I’ve been watching.
Because when you put all of those pieces together, Lance’s story isn’t really about jumping from one tribute band to another.
It’s about versatility.
It’s about a musician who has been willing to sit behind the kit, move behind the keyboards, provide backing vocals, step into the role of frontman and take on completely different musical personalities.
And somewhere along the way, that keyboardist I first noticed tucked into the shadows at 89 North became the guy standing center stage as Elton John.
Finally Meeting the Guy Behind the Keys
Despite all the performances I’d seen, Lance and I still hadn’t actually met face-to-face.
That finally changed at a Deep Purple performance.
I happened to notice Lance standing in front of me.
Naturally, I did what any photographer would do.
I took his picture.
Then I sent it to him through Facebook Messenger.
Lance looked down at his phone.
Then he looked behind him.
He was clearly trying to figure out who the hell had just photographed him.
😂
I stood up and waved until he spotted me.
We both had a quick laugh, and later, during the intermission between Kansas and Deep Purple, Lance made his way over and we finally introduced ourselves in person.
There’s something I really enjoy about that moment.
As photographers, we often meet musicians from a very different perspective. They see us in the photo pit, cameras in hand, trying to capture those first three songs. We see them through a viewfinder, sometimes from only a few feet away.
But eventually, if we’re lucky, the person behind the lens gets to meet the person in front of it.
And I’d like to think the musicians enjoy discovering that person, too.
So maybe Long Island’s tribute musicians aren’t really playing musical chairs after all.
Maybe they’re playing musical high-chairs.
Because sometimes you don’t leave your seat because something went wrong.
Sometimes you’ve simply grown tall enough to reach for the next one.





