The posthumous debut album from British indie rock quartet Viola Beach is a harsh reminder of the caprices of fate. With only a few singles under their belts -- including one in heavy rotation on BBC Radio 1 -- and an appearance at SXSW on the horizon, their futures were cut short in an instant. On February 13, 2016, the band -- Kris Leonard (guitar/vocals), Jack Dakin (drums), River Reeves (guitar), and Tomas Lowe (bass) -- and manager Craig Tarry were killed in Sodertalje, Sweden when their car plunged off a bridge. The studio recordings that had been completed before their tragic deaths are collected on Viola Beach, a nine-song memorial for a group of young men with much musical promise. Leonard's vocals bounce from strained yowl to earnest everyman crooner, lending a youthful edge and unpolished purity to the songs, which jangle along like early Arctic Monkeys and the Kooks. A vaguely tropical vibe brightens tracks like the sunny "Really Wanna Call" and the driving "Like a Fool," which both sound like Vampire Weekend on a trip to the British seaside. Midtempo numbers like the languid "Cherry Vimto" and the dreamy "Call You Up" display a softer side to the band, recalling the atmosphere of Coldplay's Parachutes. The highlights include the single "Swings and Waterslides," the elastic bass bounce of "Go Outside," and the urgent "Drunk." However, it's the closing track that really packs an emotional wallop. On "Boys That Sing," Leonard recounts an episode with a girl who can drink, have fun, and inspire envy from the Mona Lisa. He sings "And she said that together we could take on the world...And she said that together we could do anything." Given the circumstances, an otherwise jaunty ode to young love is transformed into an utterly bittersweet and heartbreaking conclusion to what could have been. Despite the haunting narrative tied to the album, Viola Beach remains the sound of youth, hope, and possibility.
© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo