“Believe” Brings the Country Music Awards to Its Knees: Jelly Roll and Brooks & Dunn Deliver a Performance for the Ages

Nashville, TN — The Country Music Awards have seen their share of surprises, star turns, and standing ovations. But on this night, under the golden lights of the Bridgestone Arena, something happened that went beyond the usual award-show magic.

When Jelly Roll took the stage with country icons Brooks & Dunn, the air in the room shifted — not in anticipation of a hit, but in that electric way you feel when everyone senses they’re about to witness history.


The Set-Up: A Collision of Generations

The performance had been teased in cryptic terms during rehearsals — “a moment you won’t forget,” according to one CMA producer — but no one knew quite what to expect.

Brooks & Dunn, the duo whose blend of honky-tonk swagger and heartbroken balladry defined the ‘90s, are no strangers to big moments. Jelly Roll, the breakout country-rock-rap hybrid artist, has built a reputation on brutal honesty and emotional rawness.

Pair them together on “Believe” — a 2005 Brooks & Dunn ballad about faith, loss, and redemption — and the possibilities were staggering.


The First Notes: Setting the Flame

The lights dimmed until the arena was cloaked in near darkness. A single spotlight cut through the haze to reveal Kix Brooks, seated with an acoustic guitar, the full CMA orchestra arrayed behind him. His fingers found the opening chords, slow and deliberate, as if he were summoning something from deep memory.

Out from the shadows walked Jelly Roll — no cowboy hat, no elaborate costume, just a black suit and that signature cross hanging heavy from his neck. The crowd roared in recognition, but as soon as he stepped to the mic, a hush settled.

His voice came low and gritty, the kind of tone that feels like it’s been dragged through fire and whiskey. “Old man Wrigley lived in that white house…” — the story began, each syllable carrying a lived-in ache.


Enter Ronnie Dunn: The Lift-Off

Halfway through the first verse, Ronnie Dunn emerged stage right, his unmistakable tenor slicing through the air. When he hit his first high note, the room practically levitated. The contrast was perfect: Jelly’s smoke and gravel against Dunn’s soaring, cathedral-clear tone.

The orchestra swelled, strings filling the space between them, and suddenly the song was less a performance and more a testimony.


Bleeding Emotion on Stage

By the second chorus, Jelly Roll’s eyes were glistening. As he sang, his hand pressed against his chest, as if trying to keep his heart from spilling out entirely. There was no attempt to hide the cracks in his voice — in fact, he leaned into them, each break landing like a truth too big to swallow.

“It wasn’t just singing,” one audience member said afterward. “It was like watching someone pray out loud.”

Ronnie closed his eyes during his harmony lines, as if reliving every loss the song had ever reminded him of. Kix anchored the performance, strumming steadily, his harmonies threading around Jelly’s rasp like a hand on a shoulder.


The Moment That Broke the Room

As the bridge hit — “I can’t quote the book, the chapter or the verse…” — Jelly Roll stepped back from the mic for a breath. You could see him gathering himself, his chest rising and falling under the stage lights. Then, with a deep inhale, he delivered the final chorus with every ounce of breath and soul he had left.

The timbre of his voice cracked wide open on “I believe”, and the crowd collectively broke. Hands flew into the air, a wave of “Amens” and cries rising from the floor seats.


Standing Ovation Before the Last Note

The last chord was still ringing when people began to stand. By the time Jelly Roll let the final “I believe” fade into silence, the entire arena was on its feet. The ovation wasn’t the usual quick rise and applause — it was sustained, thunderous, and heavy with gratitude.

On stage, the three men embraced — Jelly between his heroes, the generation gap between them dissolved in shared respect.


After the Stage Lights Dimmed

Backstage, Jelly Roll was still visibly emotional. “That song saved my life once,” he told a reporter. “I sang it tonight for every person who’s ever lost someone they couldn’t imagine living without.”

Ronnie Dunn was equally moved. “He didn’t just sing it — he lived it. That’s the difference,” Dunn said, his voice still carrying the adrenaline of the stage.


The Internet Reacts

Within hours, the performance had been uploaded to the CMA’s official YouTube channel, where views climbed past 2 million before sunrise. Comments flooded in from around the world:

  • “I’m crying in my kitchen right now. This is what music is supposed to do.”
  • “Jelly Roll was born to sing this song with them.”
  • “Country music just had its most spiritual moment in years.”

Clips spread across TikTok and Instagram Reels, many paired with captions like “Faith. Loss. Hope. Repeat.”


Why It Hit So Hard

“Believe” has always been a powerful song, but this performance was different. Part of it was the arrangement — the full orchestra gave it a cinematic depth. Part of it was the pairing of voices — Jelly’s grit grounding Ronnie’s purity. But more than anything, it was the authenticity.

Jelly Roll’s reputation is built on raw transparency about his past: addiction, incarceration, redemption. When he sang about believing in something beyond himself, you felt the truth of a man who’s lived on both sides of hope.


A Night That Will Be Remembered

Award shows often chase viral moments, but the magic in Nashville that night couldn’t have been scripted. It was lightning in a bottle: a song with history, three men with stories, and an audience ready to receive it.

For Brooks & Dunn, it was a reaffirmation of their timeless place in country music. For Jelly Roll, it was a bridge between his present success and the roots of the genre he now calls home. For the audience, it was a reminder that in the right hands, a song can be more than melody and words — it can be a shared heartbeat.


Bottom line: In the years to come, people will remember where they were the night Jelly Roll, Brooks & Dunn, and “Believe” turned the Country Music Awards into a church service — one that ended not in silence, but in a roar of applause that seemed like it might never end.

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