Jelly Roll’s ‘Beautifully Broken’: All 22 Songs Ranked

With his raw-throated vocal, Jelly Roll unfurls some clear-eyed observations with “Unpretty,” such as “I hate the man I used to be/ But he’ll always be a part of me.” But sonically, the song doesn’t stand out among other sounds proliferating the album.

He offers up another love song here, and though the missive at times delves into lyrical cliches, he puts forth a performance with rock music-fueled ferocity, making for a song that is sure to be a fan-favorite in concert.

Jelly Roll continues with his penchant for spiritual petitions on his lilting, folksy percussion underpins crashing guitars as Jelly Roll sings of yearning for a better way of living, or as he puts it, “tryin’ to find some kinda way of stayin’ between the lines.”

Jelly Roll and Wiz Khalifa lead a sing-song melody that feels perfect for packed arenas and is wrapped in searing rock guitars. Though the song would benefit from more input from Khalifa and smoother transitions into their respective parts, their voices do complement each other well.

From its opening riff, “Get By” swiftly swirls into a stomping, gospel-tinged number that centers on finding a comfortable balance between the compulsion toward various vices and the tug toward cleaner living, as he sings nonchalantly about shifting from wilder nights to sanctified mornings, on lines such as “Throw some hallelujahs to the big man in the sky/ Show up Sunday mornin’ lookin’ just like last night.”

Jelly Roll and MGK previously teamed up for the collaboration “Lonely Road,” and they pair up again here, with MGK taking the lead on the first verse. This sparse piano ballad covers some of the same ground as “Unpretty,” acknowledging that even as progress is made, bouts of imposter syndrome can make it hard to move past previous mistakes.

Above rippling acoustic guitar and tight, propelling percussion, he conveys coming to a pivotal moment when the need for change outweighs the pull toward crippling habits and decisions. “On my knees I’m lookin’ up/ I need a different kind of drug,” Jelly Roll sings, while the chorus offers a moment for Jelly Roll to put his vocal range on display as he powers through high notes with angst and fervor.

Hand snaps, soulful background vocals, noodling guitar, and stately percussion lead the way on this track that falls in line with the unifying, pain-sharing messages of some of Jelly Roll’s other tracks on the album. Here, he offers a reminder that while life isn’t fair and some people reach higher highs or lower valleys, everybody experiences pain, rejection and setbacks on some level, regardless of their status.

Over a swampy, urgent guitar riff, Jelly Roll directly confronts the broken promises of materialism and dependency on pills and alcohol, calling out the pull of such vices on lines like “Drink another whiskey, pop another pill/ Money makes you happy, heaven isn’t real.” Slabs of percussion, Jelly Roll’s gritty, soulful voice and a fervent backing choir bring a joyous defiance to this track, making it one of the most engaging songs on the album.

Tender guitar, stately percussion and flashes of banjo rumble as Jelly Roll turns from direct-to-listener lyrics and instead paints vivid character sketches of people whose lives have been derailed by jail time and drugs. He acknowledges the dark draws toward giving up, but urges listeners toward hope.

Jelly Roll teams with Ilsey for this rush of glossy pop melodies that spark off the two singers’ voices.

“I’ve been hurt, I’ve been shamed/ I’ve been the one who caused the pain,” Jelly Roll sings, while IIsey’s vocal sheen brings a knowingness to lyrics about the letdown when “the city you love takes a piece of your soul/ and the drugs don’t work no more.” All together, this track melds a sleek, radio-ready sound with a vulnerable message of finding a safe place to land.

He slows things down for this power ballad about finding hope and grace in the middle of hardships and weaknesses. Tender guitar underscores his voice here, offering a moment of space among some of the album’s harder-rocking songs.

The 22-track album concludes with another piano-woven, gospel-tinged song about accepting all the facets of one’s own story, the zeniths, the regrets and the bleak moments–while forging ahead and confidently writing a new chapter to one’s life story. The song’s uncluttered melody and bright instrumentation make for an uplifting closing note on the album’s redemptive journey.

A funky, hurtling, piano-laced slice of defiance, Jelly Roll picks up the groove again here, and even has he sings of regrets and emotional setbacks, he pours his full-throttle voice into this declaration of his determination to rise above.

The song opens with a phone call between Jelly Roll and Dumb Blonde podcast founder Bunnie XO, to whom he is married, as he tells her he misses her while he’s in the studio recording. This love song and look at life on the road is a refreshing change of pace on the album.

He offers up a romantic song of missing his lover, as he details the rigors of the road, from breakdowns on the road to nights spent traveling the byways from one concert to another. “One day this telephone thing won’t be our one connection,” he sings, reassuring her that he’ll be home as soon as he can. This song is bound to resonate with anyone who spends long days away from home.

A rock-tinged country sound propels this story of a young man struggling to cope with the loss of his mother, and young woman trying to raise her children the best she can while dealing with various hardships. Like so many, they cry out for a compassionate ear and someone willing to help and he sings of being a friend to answer their call.

Jelly Roll opens the album by setting the scene of a man entering an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in an effort to begin healing from his addictions and working to stay sober. “I met a man who was 20 years clean/ He said, ‘Everybody here’s felt the same defeat,’” Jelly Roll sings, aided by a choir, and making clear that this new album is poised to continue speaking to the hurting, the lost, the broken, offering up compassion, understanding and a musical salve.

Jelly Roll continues his redemptive arc on this latticework of drums and searing guitars, as he details all the things that the “silver-tongued devil” steals from a person, including self-worth, hope and peace. As always, his aching tenor commands the melody here.

Jelly Roll delves into the nuances of sleeplessness, depression and emotional wreckage, translating how one learns to hide behind a social facade. He peers between the facade’s cracks and offers a voice of knowing and reasoning that while a current moment can be pain-filled, ultimately hope still exists. The blends lyrical intimacy with stadium-sized sonics, while also marking one of the Tennessee native’s best vocal performances on the album, highlighting the nuanced cracks in his vocal that make the song feel believable and earnest.

Jelly Roll returns to a mesh of country, rock and hip-hop rhythms, but this song also radiates with gratefulness. In addition to his music, the singer-songwriter is known for his joyous, megawatt personality. Here, he’s direct in giving a reason for his joyous persona.

“When you make it out of the shadows, you want to be a light/ Every day’s a blessing when you shouldn’t be alive,” he sings, in what is sure to become an anthem for so many in his audience.

Jelly Roll slightly shifts gears once again with this sultry slow jam, with a slate of amorous declarations, as he sings of proclaiming his dependence on his lover. Though Jelly Roll’s collection of hit songs have largely resided within the country-rock realm, he proves he can delve deeper into his soulful side with aplomb.

Though many of the songs on Beautifully Broken carry a spiritual element, “My Cross” centers more on a father’s hopes and dreams that his own mistakes, addictions and habits don’t carry forward into a new generation. It marks one of the most vulnerable, well-crafted, and country-leaning songs on the album, as he sings, “I pray every day I can love you enough/ So my cross to carry won’t be yours to pick up.” Subtle strings let the message carry the song, particularly on the encouraging lines, “When you make mistakes on your own/ I hope you know you’ll never go through it alone.”