This Is Jordan: On their debut album, I. JORDAN shows exactly who they’re meant to be

I. JORDAN knows it’s been a good show when they catch at least one queer couple making out in the front row. As far as Jordan’s concerned, that’s mission accomplished. It happens frequently these days, a clear indicator that the community Jordan’s always dreamed of cultivating has finally bloomed.

Where Jordan Tek grew up, the only public place a queer couple could make out was a toilet cubicle. Jordan was raised by a single mum in Doncaster, a city in South Yorkshire known for its horse-races and railway heritage. At home, Jordan’s mum played George Michael, Simply Red and Eurythmics, and Jordan first got their mitts on dance music through ripped trance CDs at car-boot sales.

School wasn’t much fun. The kids had an inkling that Jordan did not fit into society’s prescribed boxes and bullied them for it. But MySpace felt safe, so that’s where Jordan would bury themselves most evenings, clicking from Bring Me The Horizon to Pendulum to Black Sun Empire, until they landed on the homepage of Hospital Records and their world blew wide open. The only venue in Doncaster that played that type of music was a pub called The Priory, and Jordan remembers dancing in the drum ’n’ bass room with about six other people, none of whom would be making out in the front row.

When Jordan was 18, they caught the Megabus down to the Hospital Records residency at Matter in London. That’s where they learned there was another way to live; one where they didn’t have to shut off giant chunks of their identity. Jordan holds up a tattooed arm. “I got the club logo tattooed on my wrist about 15 years ago,” they laugh. “It was such a formative experience for me.”

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Today, Jordan’s chatting from their studio in FOLD in East London. They’re about 90 seconds late for the interview because they came straight from the Ninja Tune offices, where they listened to their debut album on vinyl for the first time. “I’m really sorry I’m late,” Jordan says, which is nice; according to DJ Mean Time, they’re 10 minutes early. This is one of many striking things about Jordan. For arguably the sickest artist on the planet, they’re sound as fuck. Their social media shows them DJing to packed out clubs, downing ginger shots with Felix Mufti, tearing up Warehouse Project or out and about on tour in Paris. Scroll down a little further and you’ll find snaps of a tour in Asia, a Best of British DJ award, numerous B2Bs with SHERELLE and an utterly unhinged Boiler Room set at AVA in Belfast. All this to say: they have every right to be aloof, but Jordan remains grounded, modest, compassionate, thoughtful and generous with their energy.

“Have you seen this yet?” Jordan asks, holding the vinyl version of their debut album, ‘I AM JORDAN’. It’s been close to three years in the making, and it’s the first album released on Ninja Tune made entirely by Trans artists. “The creative direction was Aries Moross, photography by Kairo Urovi, mastering Russell E. L. Butler, styling Sam Moir-Smith, and all the collaborations musically are Trans artists too,” Jordan says. “So it represents my own journey, but I’m bringing everyone else with me.”

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They do this out of necessity. In the mid-late 2000s, electronic music was all over Doncaster, but queer representation wasn’t. Illegal raves in car parks, tunnels and fields would blast out donk, bassline, hardcore, trance, drum ’n’ bass and jungle to crowds of shirtless men off their nuts on pingers. Jordan was drawn to the sound but not the culture, and bought themselves a pair of turntables despite knowing they didn’t fit in with the scene in that form.

At University in Hull there were close to no queer spaces. There they joined the DJ society and began to mix drum ‘n’ bass for the first time. “I had to choose between finding a community of people who were into the same music as me, or finding a community in terms of my identity,” Jordan says. “In 2009 the queer parties usually played pop music, which I didn’t like. So I never really engaged with any LGBTQ+ community until I moved to London and went to queer parties that centred electronic music.”

In London, Jordan firmly planted two feet in the electronic music scene, although they were often the only non-male on the line-up and usually the opener. Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club and Dalston Superstore became spiritual homes, and the launch of New Atlantis, their new age ambient label and event series with Al Wootton, was a welcome break from drum ’n’ bass culture. The label became a place for Jordan to release their own music away from the watchful eyes of that community, and gave them a base-level of confidence to go ahead and make four-to-the-floor club bangers. Jordan became involved with the team at Local Action, and went from playing showcases to releasing their debut EP ‘DNT STP MY LV’ on the label in May 2019. The EP was an unleashing of a decade of pent-up club energy, with four tracks spanning house, disco, techno and trance.

Releasing that EP was a turning point for Jordan. “I came out as non-binary in 2019,” Jordan says. “I’d been figuring it out for a long time, and seeing the press using the wrong pronouns just made me very uncomfortable. It didn’t feel like me.”

Taking that step lifted all creative barriers, and their 2020 ‘For You’ EP on Local Action fostered such a strong emotional connection with listeners they still thank Jordan for making it today. It came out just as lockdown came in, with six emotive dance tracks exploring Jordan’s arrival at a place of self-acceptance after years of bullying and homophobia. The artwork was shot in the Dalston Superstore toilets, a sacred space for Jordan.

“It did well,” Jordan says matter-of-factly. “It got, like, best track of the year on RA, and I won a DJ Mag award and shit.”

Jordan ended 2020 being named by Pete Tong as 2020’s ‘Breakout Star of the Year’. In 2021 they debuted on Ninja Tune with the ‘Watch Out!’ EP, had a mix on Pete Tong’s Radio 1 Dance show, and played Ministry Of Sound’s live-streamed Weekender and Tomorrowland’s One World Radio. In 2022 they collaborated with Fred again.. on ‘Admit It (U Don't Want 2)’, contributed to a Harvey Sutherland remix EP and released three EPs on the holy grail of independent labels: Ninja Tune. But most important of all, they formally changed their artist name to I. JORDAN, and their legal name to Jordan Tek.

In early 2023, Jordan began Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT), and in early 2024 they had top surgery. Jordan has documented and shared their transformation publicly in real-time, unveiling both the joy and the struggles of the process on social media. “The only other people I know going through a visible transmasc transition are Kae Tempest and Elliot Page,” Jordan says. “And I’m not mates with them.”

It’s a unique position to be in, and it can get lonely, but Jordan sees it as necessary to ensure that other Trans kids don’t have to go through it alone. “Community is a necessary form of survival for all Trans people,” Jordan says. “It takes many forms; it can be through like-minded artists, or through support and advice. I’m in a group chat where I can ask questions and get support from people I’ve never met.”

[Content warning: The next section of the text includes reference to hate crimes and violence and may be distressing for some readers]

Because many Trans folk are not accepted by their birth families, communities fill that role while serving as a form of protection. In 2023, the Home Office reported a record 11% increase of hate crimes against transgender people in England and Wales, a direct result of anti-Trans rhetoric and legislation. In the US and UK, Trans deaths by murder and suicide increase year-on-year. [A national LGBTQIA+ support line Switchboard exists for anyone affected.] It’s grim, tragic and scary, and one of the reasons why Jordan is so focused on promoting and sharing Trans joy. So in 2023, they helmed a five-day creative residency for gender non-conforming artists in Newcastle, because creating spaces that celebrate and elevate Trans folk is the most triumphant form of resistance.

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This ethos was beautifully demonstrated through I. JORDAN and SHERELLE’s joint Reflections tour following the release of their 2023 ‘M1, M3 / GETOUTOFMYHEAD’ EP. The pair wanted to see their own communities reflected on the dancefloor, so they went on a techno, footwork and bass bender across the UK, Europe and North America. “It was wicked,” Jordan says. “Very Trans. Very queer. Everyone was making out. Everyone had their tops off.”

From head to toe, Jordan’s debut album is a continuation of this. The title ‘I AM JORDAN’ is a proud proclamation of their identity, and a reminder for anyone who didn’t get the memo on the name change. It’s a dynamic 12-track ode to the sounds that inspired Jordan and the Northern genres they grew up listening to. ‘The Countdown’ featuring Scottish producer TAAHLIAH is an unapologetic donk track full of twists, turns, kicks and winks, so stupidly fun it turns dancefloors into mosh pits. ‘Round n Round’ is an ode to speed garage and bassline, genres synonymous with the North and consistent with the wobby, warbly sounds Jordan’s championed since day one. ‘The Woodpecker’ is a homage to hard house and, as it happens, woodpeckers. “They use drums as territorial calls,” Jordan says. “So the bigger the reverb the bigger the territory. Sometimes they drum on speakers at festivals.” (Jordan got into bird-watching during lockdown.)

‘I AM JORDAN’ acts as a diary of their period of transition, from aural snapshots of emotions to actual documentation of their transformation. In ‘People Want Nice Things’, Jordan samples their own voice on Testosterone. “It’s about wanting comfort and happiness,” Jordan says. “So I sampled my voice over nine months and you can hear the drop in my pitch.”

The sole vocal contribution on the album comes from Felix Mufti, a dancer, performer and actor from Liverpool. The pair hit it off when Felix was a Go-go dancer for I. JORDAN at Homobloc, and decided to create a track that celebrates their intersecting identities. ‘Real Hot n Naughty’ is a charismatic anthem that champions queer, Northern culture. For the video, they took over a working men’s club bingo hall, filled it with tinsel and gender non-conforming artists and had a giant fuck-off party. “I think I cried that day,” Jordan says. “When I used to work in a working men’s club I wasn’t out, and it was full of homophobes, so I had to bite my tongue and put up with all this stupid shit. So it was really important for me and Felix to go into that space and make it gay as fuck, basically.”

Wherever possible, Jordan teamed up with working-class artists. Although the electronic music industry has had a reckoning with homophobia, transphobia, sexism and racism, there’s still work to be done on classism. “The people who break through are still millionaires,” Jordan says. “These people do have an upper hand because they can afford to do an internship and have financial security from their parents, whereas I’m the opposite. I’ve been supporting my parent. Jobs in the industry are few and far between, and poorly paid.”

Until 2022, Jordan was working full-time as an Equality, Diversity and Inclusion Consultant at King’s College in London. “This is my first full release that has been me working full-time on music,” says Jordan. “Working-class artists take gigs because we’re terrified. There’s a cost of living crisis, fewer people are going out, venues like Wire are closing down. So I’m trying to manage my anxiety around financial stability as much as possible.”

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Jordan’s had to manage their anxiety around a lot of things lately. Not long ago, they traveled back to Doncaster to visit their grandmother. They hadn’t seen each other since Jordan started HRT, and Jordan had no idea how she’d react. “She accepted me, and was unequivocally supportive,” Jordan says. "She said she really wants to play my record, so I’m going to make sure she gets a copy.”

For Jordan, the process of writing this album has been more than cathartic – it’s been a homecoming. The daunting and defiant steps they’ve taken in their journey of self-acceptance have delivered them to the exact place they’re meant to be. And although they’d love to witness the abolishment of every single oppressive structure that ever existed, they can at least be at home in the one they’ve created. It’s a work-in-progress, and it’s not perfect, but it’s theirs.

‘I AM JORDAN’ is out now via Ninja Tune, get it here

Alice Austin is a freelance writer, follow her on Instagram