Aside from Beyoncé and Taylor Swift, few artists have made the cultural impression that Jelly Roll has this year. Whether rapping with Machine Gun Kelly, secretly turning up at a tattoo shop with Prince Harry to announce his appearance at the Invictus Games or creating Beautifully Broken (Broken Bow/Republic), the follow up to his breakthrough country debut Whitsitt Chapel, the multi-genre hybrid’s authentic struggle and joy have stood out amid America’s heightened divisiveness.

An ex-convict who found sobriety and turned his life around, Jelly has devoted countless hours in an already packed schedule to visiting juvenile-detention facilities, prisons and addiction centers to empower those struggling to believe in themselves. It’s a life of service as well as a life of music. At 39, his music is his witness—and his reason for living.

If you were going to use one word to describe the last year, what would it be?

Jelly Roll: Unbelievable.

Why that word?

It’s literally unbelievable, I truly don’t believe the kind of year I’ve had.

You’ve helped so many; does that drive your creativity? Or is deep truth your strongest muse?

Deep truth. Telling stories that help people too. So a little bit of both.

Beautifully Broken offers dark places as the canvas, but it’s really 12 steps and salvation. Was that by design?

One hundred percent. I think it’s important to tell stories that aren’t told or haven’t been told properly because [they haven’t] been told by someone who represents the community of the story. I’m hoping people follow with me. This is a “we” thing, not a “me” thing. I try to stay out of the “me” business.

How important is capturing the bleakness? Is it necessary to deliver deliverance to the ones struggling? Or is this a true introspective singer-songwriting record that is just “personal witness”?

I’m not sure when this was exactly, but there was a moment when I stopped just writing my story and started to write others’ stories. Realizing I have a platform to not only share how I feel but to speak for those in other situations who aren’t able to speak for themselves.

You’re a man on fire. How are you keeping up? What’s the power source: the stories, the smiles, the creativity, the bucket-list items?

The stories are probably the biggest thing, and the perspective shifts I see every day. I literally see something every day that inspires me. I got to go play basketball with the juvie kids in Houston yesterday. You can have different conversations when you’re on the court playing ball.

“Don’t Want To,” “Devil Down” and “Past Yesterday” talk about the unrelenting desire for our addictions, the ghosts of what’s happened to us. How important is it to acknowledge that the struggle is daily? How do you infuse hope?

It’s so important that I’m in a one-day-at-a-time, sometimes one-minute, even one-second-at-a-time [mindset]. I’m just trying to constantly encourage people to make the right next decision.

Your vocals—always inside out—have really come into their own. But even more than power, it’s the vulnerability and nuance where your power transcends. “I’m Not Okay” isn’t just about power, it’s the quaver in your vocal and your ability to show listeners that tentative courage and strength.

As the man evolved, the music evolved. Most vocalists lose their vocal power as they go; I was almost 35 when I started really exercising my voice in this way. The goal is to keep getting better and better.

Women are portrayed as having the same struggle as men but also being the light that pulls you forward. “Hey, Mama” and “Woman” are straight-up love songs, strong, full-tilt. You make strong/vulnerable-guy records, but you always portray women as real, vulnerable and more than romantic objects.

It’s the most important parts of my life changing. I can attribute every real and positive or impactful influence to the females in my life. It started with music and my mother—seeing the impact music could have. It started with my grandmother and how she kept the house and how everyone wanted to be around.

The birth of my daughter was a pivotal and integral moment. It’s been well documented at this point, but it was truly one of the moments that you can point to and say this was the shift. I met and married the right person, which changed my life.

Lainey Wilson being on “Save Me,” having that be a Grammy-nominated song. There are women on my team who have changed the course of my career. It’s the most important part and is showcased over the years.

You have pretty strong ’70s songwriter/California influences, in part from your mom, but your lyrics are very forward. This record could’ve been many things, anything. What inspired this?

Everybody knows I’m influenced by it. Why should I be ashamed to sound like my inspiration?

Genius album title. What inspired it?

It was a way to reference that it’s okay to be—and that we all are—a little broken at times. It’s an extension of the idea the windshield’s larger than the rearview. That permission to come as you are and have faith in where you can go.