Krief Becomes Black Diamond Bay In Montreal

Although "album launch" was the alleged purpose of this shindig, it would be a major stretch to say Dears guitarist Patrick Krief's solo show was about just that. It's not as sexy to advertise that a concert as an "important moment in our formative stages," but such a description would be far more apt. Krief's solo project has mutated in the past few years from a creative outlet for the multitude of songs he had written (Murray Lightburn remains The Dears' chief songwriter) to a fully-fledged act filling the niche of a critically and socially acceptable classic rock band.

The first major bit of news is the band finally have a name: the Bob Dylan-referencing Black Diamond Bay. Using the name "Krief" no longer makes any sense. Andre Bendahan (bass), Roberto Piccioni (keyboards) and fellow Dears member George Donoso III (drums) have become so integral to the group that to suggest that Krief was a totalitarian project with a revolving cast of session musicians would discredit the excellent musicianship demonstrated by all four. Besides, the affable frontman joked that most people mispronounced his name anyway, calling him "Kreef" instead of the supposedly correct "Kree-effe." I'm not sure if he was being serious, or if he was just having fun with the crowd members who would yell the former in a low, bellowing voice after every wailing guitar crescendo.

The other peculiarity surrounding this show was the once-in-a-lifetime inclusion of a string section, horn section, backing vocals and an additional guitarist. This all meant to recreate the expansive sound of the debut record, which a red armband-sporting Krief suggested they were playing in its entirety and in the correct order. This meant cuts from the Take It Or Leave EP with new arrangements. It could have become too chaotic to have so many players on the small Lion D'Or stage, but the additional musicians largely provided the window dressing to the sound dominated by Krief. As with any good classic rock outfit, the electric guitar is the driving force, and Krief isn't afraid to launch the latter half of a piece into an all-out lighter-fest. Playing with his traditionally focused grimace, Krief proved he's one of the best live guitarists in town (his ranking depends on the current whereabouts of Mahogany Rush's Frank Marino) on numerous occasions, elevating their style of trad rock to air guitar-worthy transcendence.

It could have been venue's sound, but the four main instruments seemed to wash over the backing musicians. It really sounded like your typical Krief show (which is a good thing) with a few guests for shock value. It was certainly cool to see The Stills keyboardist Liam O'Neil playing the saxophone. In the past, the band would hit the stage with broody seriousness — perhaps because at previous shows they tried to win over largely ignorant crowds — but on this night Krief seemed a lot more confident as a frontman, especially as a vocalist. He may not enjoy the sound of his voice, but he's a vastly underrated singer.

Black Diamond Bay occupy an interesting place. They're new and fresh enough to fill a void for rock that a million classic rock radio stations simply can't fill, yet they feel familiar. Krief doesn't exactly tread into unknown territory as a lyricist, but sometimes using well-worn songwriting cliches can still feel fresh when delivered with sincerity. Just watching the four main members of the group playing off each other and enjoying themselves on stage is a joy. It'll be interesting to see how Dears fans outside of Montreal truly embrace this side of Krief, as this band seem poised to become far more than just a side project. Black Diamond Bay could find a far different, albeit equally as passionate fan base.