Album Review: Beautifully Broken - Jelly Roll

Humans love a rags-to-riches story, and Jelly Roll’s rise from inside the walls of a Nashville prison to taking over the world of country music has been told over and over. On his tenth album (but probably the second one you’re familiar with), Beautifully Broken, DeFord takes a step up to transcend country music and become a fully-fledged pop star.

Not in the sense that he’s been working out and headed to Max Martin for a sonic makeover, but in the sense that he hasn’t moved that far; the spotlight has. Riding the wave of country music moving into the mainstream, Jelly Roll hasn’t moved to pop; he’s moved pop to him.

He doesn’t have the world’s most technically proficient pipes. He doesn’t write the world’s greatest poetry. But every second of his vocal performance is drenched in passion and authenticity. Every word of his lyrics drips with emotion and grace. This is a man who has been through the wringer and has a story to tell. The traditional fairytale would say that he’s made it through to the other side, but the attraction of Jelly is that he’s open about this just being another part of a journey. Who knows what’s next? And that’s ok…

And therein lies the relatability. He’s not trying to be your role model. He’s trying to pat you on the back and let you know you’re just as good or bad as he is. He’s not telling you the world’s great. He’s empathising with you that shit is tough and you’re going to fuck up, but we’re all human, and we’re all in this together. It’s a message that is sorely needed, and it’s the ‘pop’ message that the world has gravitated toward right now.

But is it a good record?

Well, the short answer is yes. Opening with the anthemic stadium song Winning Streak, the record is banger after banger and simply never lets up. The themes are familiar to Jelly Roll fans, but never have they been delivered with such confidence.

Refusing to lose his country roots, songs like Burning, Get By, Hey Mama, Born Again and Hear Me Out conform largely to the country genre, but ostensibly, this is a genreless record. It effortlessly weaves between rock, pop and even some hip-hop influences at times, but it’s a record squarely aimed at being a #1 mainstream record, whatever you want to call it.

For those needing guidance, it’s heavy on self-help. The earlier single I Am Not Okay could be the song of a generation. Everyone Bleeds is a reminder that even your pop idols are no better than you are, and the album closes with What’s Wrong With Me, letting fans know that they are enough. Unpretty (not a TLC cover) uses the riff from Pachelbel’s Canon to great effect to tackle self-esteem and forgiveness.

Without a doubt, this is a big listen. Twenty-two songs coming in at over an hour is a lot, particularly when you’re talking about self-respect rather than a traditional pop record covering cars and girls, but it’s hard to criticise when the songs are this strong. Would it be a stronger record with some cuts? In theory, yes, but when you can’t pinpoint too many weak moments, maybe it’s just right.

Where things get slightly more interesting, though, is in the quieter moments. Perhaps a record this dense could do with a few more of them, but songs like My Cross and even Little Light are welcome additions. When every song sounds like it’s meant for a stadium, the odd track written for an intimate living room is very welcome, especially when you’ve got a voice and lyrics as passionate as this. More of those, please.

But at this stage in his career, the songs are made for stadiums because that’s where he’s playing. And frankly, he deserves it.

There’s collaborations with Wiz Khalifa on Higher Than Heaven, MGK on Time Of Day and Ilsey on When The Drugs Don’t Work. They’re welcome additions and add some flavour to the record, but these are guests invited to Jelly’s world. They add to the party, but if anything, elevate the main event, showing just how unique Jelly Roll is in comparison.

Jelly Roll isn’t trying to be Waylon Jennings or Garth Brooks, so traditional country fans will be lamenting the destruction of country and waving their fists at clouds, but if country is three chords and the truth, Beautifully Broken’s only crime is using a few too many chords. This is an artist at his peak speaking to a generation with a simplistic and necessary message as important in 2024 as peace, love and harmony was in the 60s or Smells Like Teen Spirit was in the ‘90s.