We’re looking forward to introducing you to Jordan Tyrell. Check out our conversation below.
Good morning Jordan, we’re so happy to have you here with us and we’d love to explore your story and how you think about life and legacy and so much more. So let’s start with a question we often ask: What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
Honestly, I lose track of time whenever I’m creating—when I’m in the studio and the world gets quiet. That’s the space where I find myself again. I tap into emotions I don’t always talk about, and the music kind of pulls the truth out of me.
When I’m writing, I’m not thinking about numbers or pressure or who’s watching… I’m just present. Hours go by and it feels like minutes because I’m reconnecting with the parts of me that get pushed aside in everyday life.
That’s where I feel the most grounded, the most honest, and the most Jordan Tyrell. The studio is where I rediscover who I am, every time.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Jordan Tyrell. I’m an artist, songwriter, and creative force who blends emotional rap, soulful R&B, and a touch of country-influenced storytelling. Everything I make comes from a real place—pain, growth, healing, and the kind of honesty people are afraid to say out loud.
I built my brand around vulnerability, resilience, and the belief that music should feel like a conversation between souls. I’m also the founder of 88 Bloc, my independent label, which I’m growing into a platform for creators who don’t fit neatly into boxes but still deserve to be heard.
What makes my story unique is that I’m building it in real time. I’m navigating life, dealing with the lack of support, learning the business, and still showing up with a level of intention that keeps pushing me forward. Every song I drop is a chapter of my journey—raw, imperfect, and real.
Right now I’m working on new music that represents the end of one version of me and the beginning of another. My goal is to connect, to make people feel understood, and to prove that you can create something powerful without losing your soul in the process.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
I think what breaks the bonds between people is usually a mix of misunderstanding, unspoken pain, and a lack of accountability on both sides. Most relationships—whether friendships, family, or love—don’t fall apart because of one big moment. They break because of all the small things nobody addresses. Pride gets in the way. Assumptions build. People stop listening and start protecting their ego instead of protecting the connection.
But I also believe those bonds can be restored when both sides are willing to be real again. It takes honesty, patience, and a willingness to sit in the uncomfortable conversations. You restore bonds by choosing empathy over being ‘right,’ and by allowing space for people to grow into better versions of themselves.
In my life and in my music, I’ve learned that healing happens when you show up with transparency—no masks, no pretending. When people feel seen and safe, they naturally come back together. And sometimes restoring the bond doesn’t mean going back to what it was…it means building something stronger, healthier, and more aligned with who you are now.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
The fear that’s held me back the most is the fear of not being accepted. Growing up—and even now in my career—I’ve always felt that pressure to fit into a version of myself that would make everyone else comfortable. That fear can make you shrink, make you second-guess your voice, your art, your choices.
But over time, I’ve realized that chasing acceptance is a losing game, because people will shift their expectations no matter what you do. What actually changed my perspective was understanding that the same things I worried people wouldn’t accept are the exact things that make me unique as an artist and as a person.
So yeah, that fear held me back for a long time. It made me quiet my instincts and delay moves I should’ve made sooner. But now I’m learning to let my truth be louder than my fear. The more I step into who I really am, the more I attract people who connect with that authenticity. And honestly, that’s the kind of acceptance that matters—the kind you don’t have to compromise yourself to receive.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
One of the biggest lies the industry tells itself is that success can be manufactured without authenticity. People still act like formulas, algorithms, and trends can replace real connection—but the truth is, the artists who last are the ones who lean into who they are, not who the industry wants them to be.
Another lie is that you have to fit into a box to win. Labels and gatekeepers preach that individuality is valuable, but behind the scenes they often try to mold everyone into the same blueprint. It’s ironic—they want ‘the next big thing’ but then try to make you sound like whatever was big last year.
There’s also this lie that you’re only valuable once you have numbers. But the reality is, every major artist started as someone with potential, not statistics. The industry forgets that talent, narrative, discipline, and identity are what actually create longevity. Numbers just reflect what you’ve already built.
And maybe the biggest lie of all is that artists are easily replaceable. They’re not. An artist’s lived experience, emotional depth, and perspective can’t be swapped out. When you take the soul out of the art, the whole ecosystem suffers.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy?
I think what people will most misunderstand about my legacy is how much of it was built from a place of quiet resilience rather than loud validation. A lot of folks might look back and assume the journey was fueled by confidence or certainty, when the truth is, most of my breakthroughs came during times I felt the most unseen.
People may also misunderstand how intentional my evolution is. I’m not just making songs—I’m documenting growth, pain, healing, and the process of becoming someone I wasn’t always sure I could be. My legacy won’t just be about the music I created, but the way I used it to transform myself and anyone listening.
And I think some will assume I was trying to be ‘like’ other artists, when in reality I was fighting every day to sound like the truest version of myself. What I do comes from lived experience, not imitation. The depth, the vulnerability, the storytelling—none of that is manufactured. It’s real.
So if anything gets misunderstood, it might be the fact that my legacy was never about chasing a spotlight. It was about building something honest enough to outlive me. And as time passes, I think people will grow to understand that what I was creating wasn’t just music—it was a record of a life trying to make sense of itself.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/iam_jordantyrell
- Youtube: https://www.YouTube.com/@JordanTy
