At the CMT Music Awards this month, the least likely nominee turned into the biggest story of the night.
In a room full of country music royalty, artist Jelly Roll — a 38-year-old tattooed former addict and drug dealer who started selling his own hip-hop mixtapes from his car — took home the most trophies, beating superstars including Morgan Wallen , Kane Brown and Luke Combs. The crowd rose to their feet as he performed his new single “Need a Favor” in a studded leather jacket, his hoarse voice backed by a full gospel choir.
“It was an absolute dream come true, best-case scenario, and I’ve had a worst-case scenario life yet,” Jelly Roll said in a telephone interview the following week, talking excitedly about his backstage interactions with Shania. Twain and Slash. “I spent my entire childhood feeling like I didn’t fit in — in every situation I felt like the awkward fat kid. So that was like my high school prom and the graduation I never had, on national television.
Jelly Roll’s country debut album, “Whitsitt Chapel,” is due out on June 2, but it’s still far from his first release. Since 2011, he has released over 20 albums, EPs and mixtapes, many of which have been self-released collaborations with other white Southern rappers such as Lil’ Wyte and Haystak. His music was often about his criminal past and his journey to sobriety – what he calls “real music for real people with real problems.”
Jelly Roll (born Jason DeFord) grew up in Antioch, a culturally diverse working-class neighborhood south of downtown Nashville. His father was a meat seller with a side job as a bookmaker, while his mother struggled with her mental health and addiction. He was first arrested when he was 14 and spent the next decade in and out of juvenile centers and prisons for aggravated larceny and possession with intent to sell, among other charges.
Inspired by Southern rappers such as Three 6 Mafia, UGK and 8ball & MJG, Jelly Roll began writing his own rhymes and began pursuing music in earnest after learning he had a daughter, now 15 years old. of millions of streams with virtually no mainstream visibility.
In recent years, however, he has moved further towards a sincere country-soul/Southern rock style. “The music started to evolve like the man did,” he said. “The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve found my singing voice and my love for instrumentation.”
While Jelly Roll had several previous singles certified gold, the real acceleration came with his 2020 track “Save Me,” a bluesy ballad sung over a finger-picked acoustic guitar. Emotional and desperate (“I’m so damaged it’s beyond repair/Life has shattered my hopes and dreams”), it was written on a Sunday, shot and filmed on Monday, posted to YouTube on Tuesday and immediately exploded, with over 165 million views to date. He re-recorded the song as a duet with rising star Lainey Wilson for the new album.
In the past year, his bruised, fuzzed-out song “Dead Man Walking” went to No. 1 on rock radio, while the mid-tempo “Son of a Sinner” topped the country radio chart and Jelly Roll had the No. 1 hit. spot on Billboard’s Emerging Artists list for 25 consecutive weeks, the longest streak in that ranking’s history. In December, about a year after headlining Nashville’s historic Ryman Auditorium, he sold out all of the approximately 17,000 seats in Bridgestone Arena there. The Bridgestone show is captured in a new documentary, “Jelly Roll: Save Me,” premiering May 30 on Hulu.
“Some fans of traditional country music may be scratching their heads over his image and music style,” wrote Storme Warren, a host on SiriusXM’s The Highway channel, in an email, “but I think they’ll come back when they realize that he’s the real deal.”
“In my opinion, he’s as country as any artist,” Warren continued. “His stories are real and relatable. He is living proof that anything is possible.”
As Jelly Roll’s profile grows, he’s not slowing down his non-stop work habits. (“Drug dealers never take a day off,” he said in 2021, “and I wanted to apply that drive to music.”) This summer, he will be hitting the road with his Backroad Baptism Tour, as well as playing some shows with national standard-bearer Eric Church. Several Nashville A-listers, including Miranda Lambert and Hardy, wrote with him for “Whitsitt Chapel.”
“I could see right away that we were going to be fast friends,” Lambert wrote in an email. “He’s so sincere and kind. He’s very strong in who he is and what he wants to say as an artist. I have so much respect for that.”
Jelly Roll, who notes that he’s “still trying to make fans when I’m at the gas station,” has long studied the careers of country legends and what he can learn from their relationship with their fans. “They’ve stayed true to themselves,” he said. “You know who they are, and they know who they are and who they sing to.”
He wrote over 80 songs for “Whitsitt Chapel” before landing on the album’s mostly spiritual themes. “Everything was great, but it didn’t feel like it had a purpose,” he said. “I’m always zealous about the why, what’s the goal? And if it’s just catchy or easy money, we won’t release it.”
Then in one night he came up with “Dancing With the Devil” and “Hungover in a Church Pew,” which became the last tracks on the record, and he knew where he wanted to go with the project. “Those two songs talked to each other and were about the same story,” he said. “I thought about the choices I made, some terrible decisions. My music is a constant cry for help and growth – it tells a story of change, and I wasn’t ready for this.”
He admitted he started drinking after the CMT awards show (he had announced those plans from the stage), but said he’s “still a few years away from using the drugs that would kill me,” explaining that “Sobriety looks different on everyone.”
His focus is on the “therapeutic” role his music can play for people with addictions and his work for at-risk youth in Nashville. He donated all profits from the Bridgestone show and, in partnership with local non-profit Impact Youth Outreach, built a recording studio at the Davidson County Juvenile Detention Center.
“That doesn’t even scratch the surface of my plan,” Jelly Roll said. “I’m going to build halfway houses and transition centers – that’s my real heart.”
“I just never forget being that kid,” he continued. “Those childhood years were so formative, and it was so devastating for me to miss that time. On my 16th birthday I didn’t get a car; I woke up in prison. I didn’t get my GED until I was 23 and in prison. I just missed so much of life. So I want to be remembered as a man who did something for the children of this town.
After grinding for a decade or so to finally be recognized as a “new artist,” Jelly Roll is now not settling for formula. “Music is like human nature,” he said. “It evolves or dies. Artists should always be pushing the boundaries of what’s uncomfortable, and I plan to continue doing that for the rest of my career. That’s what I thought about when I left the CMTs – now that I’ve arrived here I deserve to stay.
