It is with a heavy heart and great sadness that I have stopped writing my current post to write this instead today. When I reviewed Blossoms’ Belfast Limelight gig I made a promise to review the two support acts later in the tour. Unfortunately Viola Beach will play no further part in the tour. They were killed suddenly and unexpectedly while on a short trip to Sweden when their car plunged off a bridge into a canal.

I cannot claim to know the band. Over the coming days tributes will pour in from those who knew and loved them, family and friends, in Warrington and beyond, in the music industry and in everyday life. All I can comment on are the brief exchanges I had with them for the few hours they were in the Limelight, exchanges which are very illuminating about the kind of decent, down-to-earth, fun people they were.

When I arrived at the venue at 7 p.m. the doors were still locked and Viola Beach were due on at 7.15. I thought I had got the time wrong. Eventually they were opened, I went in and surveyed the stage and the area in front of it. The merch guys were there setting up tables for the three bands, the sound guy was behind the mixing desk. A man walked through twiddling a drumstick. It was Jack. A young man was standing around chatting. I asked if he was with Viola Beach. “Hi, mate. I’m Tom. I’m the bass player,” he replied. I chatted to him in all for about ten minutes until they were about to go on. The rest of the band came over. When I told them that I’d been listening to their songs on Youtube and Soundcloud during the previous week Tom said, laughing, “No pressure then!” as they headed off to the stage. I commiserated that there were so few people there to see them at that point of the evening and they sad it would be like a private gig for me in my living-room.

Their performance was high energy and executed with a tongue in cheek fun poked at some typical rock n roll clichés. The microphone stand was flung off the stage, bringing smiles to the faces of those present as it landed in the empty mosh-pit. Singer Kris Leonard lay on his back onstage at one point and held his guitar above him while continuing with the song. There were shades of the Kooks and the Arctic Monkeys in his vocal delivery. I chatted to Tom about the Kooks thing after the gig and he said that he’d once been complimented on his playing after a performance. “I bet you’re pleased about that!” said a mate. It turned out that the plaudit had come from the Kooks’ bass player, Peter Denton. Apparently there had been a chance to support the Kooks but other commitments had prevented it. There was a real excitement about the opportunities they were getting, like being signed, like the Sweden gig and the chance to go to Austin Texas in March with BBC Introducing. They were in the middle of a snowballing popularity rise.

What about the music? Well, you know when you hear guitar music from South Africa and it makes you feel joyful and think of sunnier days to come? That same jangly, partially dampened, melodic guitar laid over beats you can dance and move to. Add to that a high octane energy and a driving beat infused with a not too liberal dose of punk attitude and teenage angst and you get close to the sound. The rhythm of the lyrics and the drum beats push the songs and the crowd forwards and upwards into party zone. Take these lyrics for example, which automatically create rhythm:

“She’s a rhino, she’s a whino, she’s a tightrope…” (from the song Boys that Sing)

“Eyes wide, bright light, time flies, feels right, you know that it’ll be nice, you know that we could be night time, sky high, eyes like we’ve cried…” (from the song Swings and Waterslides)

Musically softer songs such as Cherry Vimto instil in you the same thoughts of summer days. They take you away from the cold and gritty urban life that is northern England and transport you to another place. You might as well call it Viola Beach, a tropical paradise where Romeo and Juliet’s ending is a happy one, whilst the sun takes its bow over the gently lapping waters.

Sadly there is no happy ending in this case, although you would hope that if there is an afterlife the band will be larking and joking around, and singing their happy hearts out.

What do I remember most about them from the brief moments that they crossed my sky like four bright fireworks that faded out too soon? Of course I remember the songs and the musicality of the band but you can get that from listening to a record. What struck me most was their humour. The larking around on stage, and backstage too by all accounts. You only have to look at their Facebook page to see the shopping trolley video, and what now proves to be the chillingly prophetic, Titanic (On a Small Budget) Last week I watched this spoof video they made on the Stena Line ferry and laughed. Watching it today and considering the manner of how they died brings entirely different emotions.

I remember the funny things but also that they showed some really decent human characteristics. This, for example: as I was leaving I spoke to the band again as they stood behind the merchandise table and promised to buy their tee shirt at the next gig in Manchester. Tom, who I had first spoken to three hours previously called me by my name, asked why I was going so soon and said, “See you in Manchester, Si.” My friend who met the band a the gig in Leamington Spa was seen safely to her car by Jack, the drummer. I think they appreciated that people were interested in them and their music and they took the time to speak to people and listen back. That is what I will remember as much as the music. It will no doubt see an even bigger surge in popularity now and help more people to escape to the sunny climes of Viola Beach.  RIP Viola Beach.