Brian Kelley leaves Florida Georgia Line behind, finds 'Tennessee Truth' with new album

While seated upstairs at Lucchese Boots' brand outpost in Nashville's Gulch neighborhood, former Florida Georgia Line member Brian Kelley appears more refreshed than he has in a half-decade.

His sophomore solo album, "Tennessee Truth," arrives on Friday and hearkens his arrival as a confident, standalone country artist.

"It was fun to be part of a pioneering and trailblazing duo," he tells The Tennessean. "But now I'm having fun learning how to become the captain of my own ship."

Kelley's decade paired with Tyler Hubbard as Florida Georgia Line as an artist almost doesn't equate with who Kelley is also as a man.

Kelley had more in common 18 years ago with Hall of Fame baseball pitcher Sandy Koufax than Hall of Fame country music artist Alan Jackson. Kelley spent time as an aspiring major league player at Daytona State College and Florida State University before heading to Nashville's Belmont University in 2007.

Life beyond Florida Georgia Line's success

After a decade-plus together, Kelley believed he and Hubbard could still be a tandem, but also branch off as solo acts, potentially able to equal the 50 million singles they sold together via Florida Georgia Line hits like 2012's Nelly collaboration "Cruise" and 2017's Bebe Rexha pairing "Meant to Be."

In Kelley's mind, he and Hubbard could create a three-hour live concert event with no opening act and only one set list comprised of their solo work interspersed with Florida Georgia Line's mega hits. The concept never reached fruition.

A deep look back: Florida Georgia Line among first country acts to open a Nashville bar; FGL House closing recalls how we got here

The bittersweet silver lining is that Kelley is now pushed by a goal far more significant than resting on his 2010s work and sharing the load with his former duo-mate.

He has reached the "apples versus oranges" moment of his career, when everything — from his appearance and style of dress to the types of songs he was interested in making — had to evolve.

"Brian Kelley doesn't have 19 No. 1 hits at country radio, and I've found the good in that," he says. "Allowing people to discover the truth of who I am is a critical moment to embrace pride in the freedom of the steps I've taken."

'Tennessee Truth'

"Tennessee Truth" is comprised of songs more closely tied to how he's redoubled his efforts to be a crooner of rural anthems more linked to Alan Jackson, who comes from 45 minutes outside of Atlanta, than anything familiar with Kelley's former hits that often felt snatched from the catalog of Atlanta's 1990s and 2000s era of hip-hop and R&B's crossover potential.

Songs like "Dirt Road Date Night" and "Trucks, Ducks, Bucks & Beer" don't feature trap beats and stadium-ready choruses as much as they reflect quiet moments when Kelley is locked into discovering what he can mine from his developing singer-songwriter artistry.

The pop-ready songs that emerge are aided by Dann Huff's production, accurately reflecting Kelley as a husband and outdoorsman at heart, whose parents have been married for 50 years and who finds himself lucky to be able to salvage and re-balance his roots against the impact of life-changing superstardom.

He speaks with great respect about his 81-year-old father, Ed, and growing up eating boiled peanuts and fresh fruit purchased at roadside stands while spending time perusing flea markets near the lakes, nature reserves and rivers that surround the stretch of Florida between Daytona Beach and his hometown of Ormond Beach.

Kelley's father set a "working class" example for him, selling everything from newspapers to tanning oil, plus serving on the Ormond Beach City Commission and working as the Volusia County chairman for two decades.

"Yeah, I might seem like the guy who loves eating sushi at Nobu or buying boots at Lucchese, but I'm also the guy who goes to the bait and tackle shop or the country general store," he says. "My wild Friday nights could be onstage at Bridgestone Arena or watching '20/20' with my wife and dogs on my couch after cooking a meal at home."

'Kiss My Boots'

The moment that focuses most directly on when Kelley was struck by how far removed he was from where he started two decades ago arrived — in the wake of "Meant To Be" and its 50 weeks on top of country's sales charts and a 34-date 2019 amphitheater tour — when he found himself, in early March 2020, at Sheldrick Wildlife Trust's nursery in Nairobi, Kenya.

Hubbard and wife Hayley had asked Kelley and his wife, Brittney, to join them there for a gender-reveal event for their second child.

"That was a magical trip, but the second we landed back in America, for the next six months, my wife and I were quarantined on a farm in west Nashville or staying in a tiny carriage house near our (then being renovated) house in Florida," he says. "I was happy I didn't have COVID-19, as my father would say, 'playing the glad game,' and keeping myself from going crazy and (succumbing to) fearmongering by building rock walls, cooking every meal outside on a tiny grill, fishing, hunting and praying."

It began a long reckoning that eventually ended, as many Nashville-based mainstream country music stories do, in a songwriting room.

Album closer "Kiss My Boots" is best regarded in the wake of contemplating the wear and tear of what evolved into a five-year split from Hubbard, filled with starts, stops and both artists remaining tethered to one of pop music and culture's most notable recent musical histories. This, while feverishly attempting to rediscover who they were two decades ago, plus also thinking about remaining artistically competitive and relevant against the genre's modern-era boom.

Much like his and Hubbard's trip to Africa, Kelley describes writing "Kiss My Boots" as a "magical" experience during which his feelings about the past half-decade finally coalesced.

"Comes out in the whiskey, comes out when I'm tipsy / I can't help but tell that Tennessee truth / I'm crankin' Hank, drinkin' Jack / I'm crankin' Hank, drinkin' Jack / And you can kiss my boots," sings Kelley.

For over 3,000 years, the notion of using wine to find the truth has resisted change to remain perpetually factual.

"It's an emotional middle finger to you through a song that grew from being about one thing to being about everything," he says. "It's the most I've ever felt in control of a song's creative direction. Being connected to that feeling inspired bravery, empowerment and healing that didn't just impact me but impacts anyone who feels betrayed or gets pissed off — but knows that taking the high road is (the most admirable path to take)."

Growing past life's 'curveballs'

"Even though I've made some money and had some success, I'm a real human being who has been through some things and thinks and feels just like anyone else," Kelley says.

"I had to re-learn how to show up and patiently wait for my realness to emerge from the lyrics and the melodies perfectly. Once that happened, the same kid whose father is from the Nashville area and who once came to Opryland with his family and sang '"'Sold (The Grundy County Auction Incident)' blended with me rediscovering the person who is no different from anyone who listens to this record."

Kelley closes, as expected, with a baseball metaphor.

"Whenever life throws you a curveball, stepping up to the plate and getting a hit requires trusting your talent more than anything else," he says. "Nothing great doesn't happen without a little bit of hard work."

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: After Florida Georgia Line, Brian Kelly moves on to 'Tennessee Truth'