Only appropriate that as the recently svelte Jelly Roll sauntered up to the stage to deliver his shake shack snake oil sermon, you heard Jelly Roll singing via the walk-up music, “I ain’t nothin’ but a liar.”
On the day Jelly Roll released the now Grammy-winning Beautifully Broken all about getting sober and finding the righteous path, he also announced the opening a bar on Lower Broadway in Nashville. It’s the commercial exploitation of a false narrative that’s at the heart of the Jelly Roll experience. Now he’s trying to sell that bar for $100 million. Unquestionably, Jelly Roll has pulled himself up from his bootstraps, turned his life around, and ascended to the mountaintop of popular society through discipline, self-understanding, admitting to his past sins, and by submitting to the belief in a higher power. His recent, dramatic weight loss speaks to his mission of self-betterment. This is the benevolent aspect to the Jelly Roll story, and the part that deserves praise. Another other important aspect is how he inspires others to do the same with their lives, which has happened for many.Jelly has gone from the gutter and dregs of society to become one of the most popular and applauded artists in all of music, including now being named a Grammy winner. It’s a distinctly American story, told through the twisting narrative of a rare and unlikely Nashville native. But part of the story of the hustle is that of the hustler, the street smart pusher telling people what they want to hear, while the truth of Jelly Roll is much more complex, and resides somewhere in between the assessment of his vocal supporters and his most vehement naysayers.It’s not that Jelly Roll doesn’t deserve praise. It’s that the media has been unwilling to also give Jelly Roll deserved scrutiny for trespasses, past and present. Like so many Grammy Awards, Jelly Roll’s win for Best Contemporary Country Album isn’t about the album. It’s about the man—or at least the man that’s been sold to the public through an infinite amount of human interest stories, while the full story of Jelly Roll goes untold because it doesn’t fit the established, accepted narrative. – – – – – – – – – – –
Even more cringe is the media pull quoting Jelly Roll saying, “Jesus is not owned by one political party” as a political statement as opposed to his stream of consciousness where he was saying everyone can be down with Jesus.
95% of the program was unwatchable (and unfortunately I wasted my time). Despicable people drooling over each other. And they can save their misguided, misinformed, political commentary.
The Grammys have never been about music. It’s always been a recording industry circle jerk, where artists get rewarded for making other folks rich. And the award show itself, like all awards shows, have become embarrassing platforms to either endorse or heap scorn upon the outrage issue of the day.
JR is basically a male, hillbilly Taylor Swift. He has his backstory, and his music is centered around that backstory, and helps drive home how heartfelt, raw and honest it’s supposed to be, just like when TS uses her music to lash out at her exes. I mean, people obviously like his music, and that’s cool, and I’m not even tagging it as being “bad” or anything. But the music itself hasn’t made any really significant impact outside his JR sphere. There’s no JR tune that swept through pop-culture by storm. Most of the attention he generates has to do with his past, his personal life, his weight loss, and peripheral stuff like that. If Jelly Roll was Jerry Royce, and he was just a generic dude with a generic past, how well would the music sell?
Jelly Roll is the corporate-approved modern-day equivalent of Insane Clown Posse and Korn. His image is what his fanbase is: a bunch of f-ups who are full of shit. People who are charismatic, but you don’t ever fully believe anything they say. His recent, dramatic weight loss is most certainly from the overuse of Ozempic which is starting to reveal itself as having severe physical side effects including bone loss and loss of vision. I believe with 100% certainty that Jelly Roll didn’t fast his way to this level of weight loss on sheer willpower alone. He’s too lazy to fully play the game and keep up the appearances to be a fully committed Christian artist like his part-time cohort Brandon Lake. I don’t buy his schtick for a minute – and I don’t care about his redemption arc because at a certain point you have to stop making that your whole thing otherwise it just looks like you never left those previous issues.
Some artists make it to the top based on how great their music is and the success was organic. There are other artists who get to the top with some kind of behind-the-doors “help.” Billy Strings success is organic. I believe that this formerly fat fluff did whatever the selling your soul to the devil is to be whatever this thing he is now.
I get where you’re coming from, however, I’d argue that both Korn and even ICP are more authentic than JR is. Like it or hate it, musically speaking, Korn did establish a novel sound that inspired a slew of copycats. And as terrible as ICP is, they stay in their lane, they cater to their base, and they don’t pretend they’re something they’re not.
But I agree fully re: JR. Strip away the persona, the look, and the redemption arc, and does his music truly stand out in any particular way? Is it really “heartfelt”, or is it just manipulative? It’s more like the Kiss model, where you’re selling characters who perform music, as opposed to selling the music itself. The industry is heaping praise upon him because he shifts units, at least for now.
Source: savingcountrymusic.com