ST.“Can you even believe this is the same guy?”. When he walked out of the Sydney airport wearing a backwards cap and a black hoodie, I had to look twice — because, as Jelly Roll once said, “I somehow managed to be this successful carrying 550 pounds. That’s insane.” Seeing him now, you truly grasp the scale of his transformation: from barely being able to walk a mile or fit on a roller coaster, to embarking on his first-ever Australian tour. There’s something quietly powerful about the way he smiles and walks — like a man who’s left a heavy part of himself behind, yet carries a new one forward. The story doesn’t end here; if you knew what happened that night he decided to change his life, you’d see how deep this journey really goes.
- “Can you even believe this is the same guy?”. When he walked out of the Sydney airport wearing a backwards cap and a black hoodie, I had to look twice — because, as Jelly Roll once said, “I somehow managed to be this successful carrying 550 pounds. That’s insane.” Seeing him now, you truly grasp the scale of his transformation: from barely being able to walk a mile or fit on a roller coaster, to embarking on his first-ever Australian tour. There’s something quietly powerful about the way he smiles and walks — like a man who’s left a heavy part of himself behind, yet carries a new one forward. The story doesn’t end here; if you knew what happened that night he decided to change his life, you’d see how deep this journey really goes.
Portable speakers
Drum
guitars
Music
Houston
music
Grand Ole Opry
Gift baskets
Guitar
MUSIC
When country-music star Jelly Roll landed in Sydney for his first headlining tour in Australia, fans did a double-take. It wasn’t just the tour, or the energy—it was him. The physical transformation was clear: a drastic drop in weight, a lighter step, a renewed presence. But behind that “new look” lies a much deeper story of struggle, habit change, and purpose.
Jelly Roll (birth name Jason Bradley DeFord) has been candid about his lifelong battle with weight and food. He has shared that at his heaviest he weighed around 540-550 lbs (that’s roughly 245-250 kg). Growing up in Antioch, Tennessee, he said: “All I’ve ever known was being fat, and I’m f-ing miserable.” He carried not just physical weight, but emotional and habitual weight—food as comfort, food as escape.
In 2022, he recommitted himself. He began working with nutritionists and trainers, changed how he thought about food and body, and set himself concrete goals. By early 2025, when he revealed he weighed 357 lbs (~162 kg), it indicated nearly 200 lbs lost. But the number itself tells only part of the story.
It’s the habits behind the number that matter: Jelly has said he could not walk a mile at the start of his journey; now he was training for 5K runs, logging miles, doing cold-plunge and sauna sessions, treating his body and his mind differently. He also stopped quick-fix thinking: when asked about the popular weight-loss drug class (GLP-1s, etc.), he said: “I just was petrified of the side effects… As a singer, few things scare me more than acid reflux. … Because that stuff will just rip the vocal cords.” For him, the voice—singing—was tied to identity, so the risk was unacceptable.
What moves me is the shift in mindset: he once said “I didn’t become successful because of my weight. I became successful in spite of it.” That line rings. He’s not pretending the past didn’t matter; he’s saying the past is part of him—but not all that defines him. And now the tour in Australia isn’t just a schedule of shows, it’s him stepping into a new version of himself.
Behind the scenes, the change in diet is fascinating too. For instance he shared that on tour he eats a Waffle-House inspired breakfast bowl—but made healthier, hash browns air-fried in beef tallow, chicken sausage, peppers—with sophisticated tweaks. Snacks like peanut butter cookie-dough bites, dairy-free protein poutine for dinner. It shows that transformation doesn’t always mean giving up every comfort—it means reframing what counts as comfort.
When Jelly Roll landed in Sydney, it wasn’t just for a nine-show run. It was a landmark: the newer version of a man who once said he wanted to ride roller-coasters, to skydive, to live “a normal life” he had never had. His journey reminds us: change isn’t shock-and-instant, but cumulative. The weight numbers wow us, but the fight with habit, identity, purpose—that’s what stays with you.
If you look at those photographs of him walking through the airport, you’re not just seeing lighter body—you’re seeing someone who chose to keep showing up for himself. And for anyone who’s ever felt stuck in their own “before”—maybe that image gives hope: you don’t have to start perfect, but you can start. The full story waits in more detail, but that moment in Sydney? It says enough.
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The Voice stage suddenly became quiet when a 79-year-old man walked out from the backstage, holding his tiny grandson, with blond hair and clear blue eyes. No one knew who he was, only the MC briefly introduced: “You are here at the special invitation of a mysterious judge.” When the lights went down, that judge was Reba McEntire – who stood up, smiled warmly and said: “I did not invite you to compete. I invited you to bring music and family love to this stage.” The old man bowed slightly, hugged his grandson, adjusted the microphone and sang “Forever and Ever, Amen”, a country song that has moved America for decades. His voice was shaky but warm, and the baby giggled, holding the microphone as if wanting to sing along. Amidst the bright stage lights, the image of two generations — one who has gone through most of his life, and one who has just begun his journey — brought tears to the eyes of the audience. When the song ended, the entire studio stood up and applauded in tears. Reba approached him, hugged him tightly and said: “The most beautiful music is not about technique, but about love.” The clip then went viral on social media within hours, with millions of comments saying: “This is not just a performance — it is a lesson about love, memories and things we want to keep forever.”
The Voice stage suddenly became quiet when a 79-year-old man walked out from the backstage, holding his tiny grandson, with blond hair and clear blue eyes. No one knew who he was, only the MC briefly introduced: “You are here at the special invitation of a mysterious judge.” When the lights went down, that judge was Reba McEntire – who stood up, smiled warmly and said: “I did not invite you to compete. I invited you to bring music and family love to this stage.” The old man bowed slightly, hugged his grandson, adjusted the microphone and sang “Forever and Ever, Amen”, a country song that has moved America for decades. His voice was shaky but warm, and the baby giggled, holding the microphone as if wanting to sing along. Amidst the bright stage lights, the image of two generations — one who has gone through most of his life, and one who has just begun his journey — brought tears to the eyes of the audience. When the song ended, the entire studio stood up and applauded in tears. Reba approached him, hugged him tightly and said: “The most beautiful music is not about technique, but about love.” The clip then went viral on social media within hours, with millions of comments saying: “This is not just a performance — it is a lesson about love, memories and things we want to keep forever.”
