Thursday 9/24: Jordana—"Divine"
Today, we share our thoughts on a new song by the Kansas indie-pop songwriter Jordana.
Welcome to Endless Scroll, the brainchild of Eli Enis (he/him) and Eric Bennett (they/them). Since Feb. 2019, we’ve been a weekly podcast about music, the internet, and where those two things intersect. Now we’re, also a M-F newsletter about songs. Our format is simple: a link to a song and a short take from each of us about what we think of it. Each day of the week has a corresponding genre: Monday is indie, Tuesday is punk, Wednesday is hip-hop, Thursday is pop, and Friday is misc.
Today, we share our thoughts on a new song by the Kansas indie-pop songwriter Jordana.
Jordana—"Divine"
Eric Bennett:
Jordana makes pop music that moves with a commanding gait. She has a voice that’s made for this kind of lithe beat. It’s not so robotic that it’s cold, but enough that it feels intimidating. “Divine” has a good enough hook to keep you around and sounds sleek enough to get the attention of fans of anything from Sylvan Esso to Hand Habits. The song’s percussion is two-fold; one portion sounds like the scattering of dropped pins, and the other feels playful, as if the instruments were toys. It reminds me of forgotten pop upstarts like Oh Land. I hope that Jordana can break into that commercial soundtrack tier without getting stuck in it.
Eli Enis:
I thought we were just settling into early 2000’s pop nostalgia (Avril Lavigne, Sheryl Crow, and Gwen Stefani are currently more influential on indie-rock than The Breeders and Pavement) but apparently Jordana has zoomed all the way up to the end of the aughts. The first track from her upcoming EP contains a winking Phoenix reference during its first verse, and the song’s confluence of giddy percussion, helium synths, and breathy vocals flashed with high-beams of reverb would make it a snug fit between Matt & Kim and Tokyo Police Club on a CD mixtape. None of these are negative critiques, I think Jordana’s unabashedly bump-worthy indie-pop sounds fresh and inviting in the residual hangover of the Bedroom Pop™ era. I just think it’s funny that she’s doing Sidney Gish meets Passion Pit a solid four years before 19-year-olds start rocking vintage Broken Bells shirts.