(Photo: Jelly Roll testifies before Congress. Contributed/Wikimedia Commons)

It is no secret that some of the most famous musicians in the world grew up in Tennessee: Taylor Swift, Morgan Wallen, Dolly Parton, Tina Turner and Kenny Chesney, just to name a few. Jelly Roll, born Jason Bradley DeFord, a third-generation Nashville native, has grown in considerable popularity in recent years largely due to the massive success of his songs “Save Me” and “Son of a Sinner,” which gained traction on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok. What makes the artist distinctive is his origin story, the way he connects with the audience and his ability to sing across a wide range of genres from country to rap to rock.

When my friend introduced me to the artist’s music, I thought, “This guy is cheesy.” His music platform is built on being “broken” and a “sinner.” He is profiting on the backs of people with real-world issues, but how genuine is he? Or perhaps his lyrics emanate a raw vulnerability that I was unaccustomed to in the music world. How many artists can you think of that talk about being “white trash,” a “loser” or not being okay with themselves? But Jelly Roll is the real deal, the inner turmoil he feels shines through authentically in his performances onstage as he belts out lyrics like, “I’m not asking for forgiveness, just a little bit of mercy / If I could take it all back, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” from the song “Need a Favor.” It takes guts to be that transparent under the gaze of public scrutiny, especially in a stadium filled with thousands of people. His southern working-class roots, childhood hardships due to lack of guidance and brutal honesty in his musical lyrics make him a relatable and lovable soul who offers feelings of hope and redemption to his fans.

In the Hulu documentary, “Jelly Roll: Save Me,” the artist speaks about growing up in Antioch, Tennessee; “I’m really a street kid that had absolutely nothing going for him.” He explains that he was surrounded by addiction and people with mental health issues, as well as struggling with his own battle. His mother battled with addiction, and his neighborhood was “plagued by the disease.” From age 14, Jelly Roll was in and out of juvenile detention centers. When he was 16, he was charged as an adult for aggravated robbery and spent 18 months in jail. This started a pattern of repeated charges and prison sentences, leading to a long record of incarceration. In the documentary, he owns up to the seriousness of his crimes and expresses deep remorse for those he has harmed. He confesses that “if [he] wasn’t a musician [he’d] be dead for sure or in prison doing life.” His felony charges continue to haunt him, “dream killers,” as he calls them, as he was recently turned down for his dream house in a gated community despite having the money and turning his life around. He was just a kid when he went down the wrong path, and rather than punishment, he needed love.

Fellow fan and friend, Julie Thurmer, admires Jelly Roll because of his “lived experience in addiction and using his pain and suffering as a way to be creative and inspire hope in others, a rare gift.” His music is his way of giving back, his way of showing love to the unlovable and offering hope to the hopeless. His concerts are a force to be reckoned with as the musician engages with the audience. He acknowledges the extraordinary restorative value of his venues, “This isn’t a concert, this is a healing experience, it’s an emotional exchange, it’s an exchange of energy.” Jelly Roll likens his concerts to the southern churches he grew up attending, a place where he found respite from his tumultuous and out-of-control lifestyle. His tour motto is “Everything’s different now,” a reminder that he is no longer held captive by his mistakes.

In January of this year, Jelly Roll testified before the Senate supporting the FEND Off Fentanyl Act, which passed in April. While Jelly Roll is unable to vote due to his criminal record, he explains that “fentanyl transcends partisanship and ideology, [it] is a totally different problem.” He elaborates that “America has been known to bully and shame drug addicts instead of dealing with and trying to understand what the actual root of the problem is.” He admits that as a former drug dealer, he “was a part of the problem” but is “here now…[and] wants to be a part of the solution.” He sees the daily effects of addiction while raising his 15-year-old daughter, whose mother is currently struggling with addiction.

Jelly Roll recently performed in Las Vegas, Nevada, with Morgan Wallen and surprise guest Machine Gun Kelly. MGK and Jelly Roll sang a collaborative song, “Lonely Road,” currently on the “Billboard Hot 100,” and presently my favorite song on repeat. MGK explains the lyrics on his YouTube channel; “I probably could’ve saved us but instead I let us crash because I don’t trust no one to love me back,” elaborating that, “This is for the self-sabotagers…when you know that your soul is so light and so pure but you’re covering it with darkness, you always have like an inkling of hope where you know that you don’t belong in this self-made hell.” The song also illuminates the artists’ introspection on past mistakes and the inner loneliness felt despite their popularity and achievements. Post Malone’s even more recent song, “Losers,” featuring Jelly Roll, speaks to the “outcasts and the sinners” who “might be lonely but [are] never alone.” Another inspirational tune that provides a sense of solace for those who feel like misfits.

The next Jelly Roll performance in Tennessee is on Oct. 25 at the Thompson-Boling Arena at Food City Center in Knoxville. It promises to be an unforgettable experience, given the artist’s capacity to captivate and entertain the audience.

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