Jelly Roll doesn’t just make music — he bleeds onto the track. And with “Liar”, off his 2024 album Beautifully Broken, the Nashville-born artist delivers one of his most brutally honest anthems yet. It’s raw, unpolished, and unflinchingly real — the kind of song that doesn’t just play in the background, it sits you down and demands your attention.
From the opening notes of the official audio, “Liar” makes it clear: this isn’t a feel-good radio single. It’s a slow-burn confessional, layered with Jelly Roll’s trademark blend of Southern rock grit, hip-hop rhythm, and soulful weight.
Q: There’s no big production trick here, no over-polished hook. Was that intentional?
Jelly Roll: Absolutely. This song’s about the words, the feeling. If I dress it up too much, you lose that. I wanted people to hear my voice, to hear the cracks, the breath, the truth in it. That’s where the song lives.
The song’s refrain — “I’m a liar, I’m a faker, I’m a sinner, I’m a fool” — hits like a gut punch, not because it’s flowery or clever, but because it’s stripped bare.
Q: Those lines feel almost too personal. Was it hard to put that out there?
Jelly Roll: I think that’s the point. Music’s supposed to be real. I’m not here to pretend I’ve got it all figured out. I’ve fought demons, addiction, heartbreak — and I’ve made mistakes. If me talking about it helps someone else feel less alone, then that’s worth it.
“Liar” isn’t built to comfort you. It’s built to sit with you in the dark — to keep you company when the weight of your own choices gets too loud to ignore.
Q: You’ve always mixed genres — rock, country, hip-hop, even gospel. Where does “Liar” fit?
Jelly Roll: It’s all of that and none of it. I don’t think about lanes anymore. I just make music that feels like me. If that means there’s a gospel harmony over a rock riff with a rap cadence — so be it. That’s Jelly Roll.
The track is one of the standouts from Beautifully Broken, an album already turning heads for its unfiltered emotion and genre-defying grit. Jelly Roll’s voice — gravelly yet vulnerable — carries a weight few artists can match, and “Liar” might be the purest example yet of his ability to turn pain into poetry.
Q: When people walk away from “Liar,” what do you hope they take with them?
Jelly Roll: I hope they feel like they’re not fighting alone. You don’t have to have it all together. You can be a mess and still be worth something.
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