"I'm A Dumb Redneck": Jelly Roll's Cop Out and Nashville's Imagined Norm
Imagine if we could go two weeks in this newsletter without having to reckon with some country/politics foolishness. Imagine if people like Jelly Roll and Kid Rock would just shut up and sing!! I jest, of course, but naturally, in a week where we should only be talking about Bad Bunny and the Seattle Seahawks, I am for some reason compelled to think about Jelly Roll's politics and the horrors of the "All-American Halftime Show."
The Grammys went the way the Grammys go which is to say…fine. Zach Top beating Willie Nelson for the first "best traditional country album" is something, though I suppose not wholly undeserved. Jelly Roll, though, our local 3 Doors Down but more Christian, was the big winner in the country categories — sort of surprising given the aforementioned mediocre rockishness but also predictable given how well his charm offensive over the past couple years has gone over with just about everyone. Your parents (of comparable age to most Grammy voters) probably know who Jelly Roll is, and think he seems "real" — which might be the thing that makes him legible as a country star, more than his music or his performance style or aesthetic. That performance of humility and aw shucks, that's been "country" (I'd do more scare quotes if I could) from the start.
When a reporter asked the freshly minted Grammy winner if he would be "willing to comment on what's going on in the country right now" (about as incisive as red carpet interviews tend to go to be fair), and Jelly Roll said "not really," that was also more traditionally "country" — at least the way most people imagine it, especially most people who don't read this newsletter — than almost anything else about him. He hemmed and hawed about how growing up among addicts meant he didn't know anything about current events (...) and that he didn't have a phone so he didn't know what was going on (...).
"I'm a dumb redneck," he said, before doing a 180 and teasing that he has "a lot to say about it, and I'm going to in the next week." Odds that it's some "can't we all get along" type song have to be at least as good as those on a Jaxon Smith-Njigba touchdown on Sunday. Earlier in the evening, he had said "Jesus is not owned by one political party...Jesus is not owned by a music label. Jesus is Jesus, and anybody can have a relationship with him. I love you, Lord," during his acceptance speech, which could mean something or could mean absolutely nothing — country "statement" making 101. But maybe Jelly Roll will surprise everyone and turn against Music Row's current red tide. I don't care about Jelly Roll generally, but the more people speaking out the better — especially if they stand to make a few enemies along the way.
At the Grammys, his ambivalence (or aloofness, in his own words) stood out among artists across genres, from Joni Mitchell to Billie Eilish to Bad Bunny, who spoke or wore statements explicitly against ICE. But, for those artists and most everyone watching the show, in that difference it was predictable — more or less how they'd expect a country singer to respond, if a little more diplomatic than the meme-worthy Travis Tritt or Charlie Daniels variety of political takes.
That attitude, that this is simply what all country singers are and have always been, is pervasive among those who aren't fans of the genre. "What's the point, they won't change" tends to be the response when people like Marissa or I ask mainstream Nashville country artists to do better, or express disappointment when they don't — as Marissa did in her great piece about country, guns, veterans and Alex Pretti last week. Most people who are not conservative assume all country artists are — that Music Row is politically a lost cause. But that hasn't always been the case, and it's not the case now even if the MAGA factions are getting louder and louder. I don't hold any particular affection for Lee Brice and Gabby Barrett, but they have had enough success that I'm still disappointed they feel their best bet lies in participating in the Turning Point USA "alternative Super Bowl Halftime show."
In my corner of the internet, the "All-American Halftime Show" and "Rock The Country" festival flyers were the butt of a million jokes — and given the common ground of Kid Rock (not really a country singer!!), those jokes feel earned. I want to believe that people like Miranda Lambert, Ella Langley and yes, even Jelly Roll are too big to need MAGA signaling as a sales pitch, but they're the ones buying into a festival with an explicitly patriotic premise as the country murders its citizens (an ongoing problem, to be sure).
I want country music to stop being a punchline, to be better understood and to be worth understanding — that's a big reason why we have this newsletter. So whether it's Jelly Roll, or another country star who's been silent on anything political because they don't want to alienate anyone, say something. Alleging that you're a "dumb redneck" as a way to simultaneously confirm people's suspicions and evade any kind of accountability for, say, being photographed chummily with a very powerful Republican like Mike Johnson is cowardly, plain and simple. Defy those patronizing but often justified expectations, and maybe, just maybe, you'll prove that pledging allegiance to Trump is neither the best way nor the only way to gain fans while saying what you believe.
