Note: $14.00 is the day of show price.
At 14 years old, Ruby Boots — real name Bex Chilcott — left a conflicted home in Perth, Western Australia to do grueling work on pearling boats, and she hasn’t stopped migrating since. Her nomadic streak has taken her around the world, and eventually to Nashville, TN. Don’t Talk About It charts this drifter’s odyssey, tattered passport in hand. Behind her commanding and versatile voice, sharp guitar playing, and adept songwriting, Ruby Boots confidently maneuvers past the whirlwinds life has tossed on her occasionally lost highway. It’s an album of hope, breakthrough, and handling the unknown challenges around the next bend.
The roads taken, the miles traveled and the voices heard during Ruby’s life’s trek resonate throughout Don’t Talk About It Informed as much by the wide-open landscapes of her homeland as the intimate writing circles of Nashville, the album may range far and wide but always maintains a firm sense of place. Echoes of first wave UK power pop and jangly punk intersect with the every(wo)man indie and pop-inflected muscle of Best Coast. Classic rock touchstones from T. Rex to the girl-group-wall-of-sound to personal hero Tom Petty meld with a weary poet’s eye recalling Hope Sandoval.
“I have an almost religious belief that Mississippi is the birthplace of rock ‘n’ roll,” says Owen Beverly, who named his band Indianola after the small but influential delta town in his home state that produced blues artists like Albert King, Little Arthur Duncan and B.B. King. “It’s so important to the evolution of modern rock and pop music. I think the first rock ‘n’ roll song ever recorded was ‘That’s All Right’ by Arthur Crudup, who was from Forest, Mississippi, before another Mississippi boy named Elvis did a rendition that changed the world,” he says. “I can’t think of any songwriters who aren’t influenced by Mississippi music, whether they know it or not.”
Now based in Nashville, the Jackson native finds it more important than ever to represent those roots. One listen to Indianola’s debut full-length album, due out this fall, and it’s obvious that the pressures of making it in the country music capital haven’t swayed his approach. “It’s always better to be the black sheep than to get lost in the herd,” he says. Beginning with the arena-ready anthem “1960s,” Beverly wears his vintage influences on his sleeve, acknowledging the musical past while planting the song firmly in the present with searing guitars and pounding drums.