Jordan Patterson

THE HERMIT

OUT SEPTEMBER 19

CONTACT: 

LYDIA KRUMPER // PUBLICIST

AVA KELLY // PUBLICIST

Emerging from a lineage of soul, poetry, and resilience, Jordan Patterson is a 23-year-old singer, songwriter, and producer making music that feels both ancient and otherworldly. With The Hermit, her most realized body of work to date, Patterson casts light into the spaces where grief, self-inquiry, and spiritual longing meet. Entirely self-written and co-produced alongside Jacob Johanson and Eric Van Thyne, the project is a gentle force—a composite of hushed folk, ambient textures, and intimate songwriting, delivered through Patterson’s haunting, clear-eyed voice.

Born in North Carolina and raised in Los Angeles, Patterson’s music has always lived in the tension between rootedness and transience. A childhood marked by instability—frequent moves, the loss of her older brother, and the quiet ache of growing up too soon—formed the soil from which her songs grew. From a young age, Patterson found solace in soul records played by her mother and grandmother—Roberta Flack, Prince, Earth Wind & Fire—before discovering singer-songwriters like Thom Yorke and Nick Drake, whose influence still reverberates through her sonic palette.

The Hermit draws its name and quiet power from the archetype itself—a solitary figure carrying a lantern with the sun’s light inside. Patterson relates deeply to the image: “The hermit can’t always feel the sun on them even though they carry it,” she says. “It’s beautiful, but sad at the same time.” This sense of paradox runs throughout the project. On tracks like “Jim” and “God,” she explores the distance between fantasy and reality in love. Other songs unfold like dream-journal entries—introspective, surreal, yet precise in their emotional truths.

Known for her magnetic and deeply cathartic live performances, Patterson balances raw vulnerability with a studied attention to detail. Her voice, often described as “melodic, then suddenly unsettling,” evokes both softness and strength—what she calls “a metal plate with grass on top.” It’s an apt metaphor for her music as a whole: a fusion of organic soulfulness and experimental edge, built from Ableton drum loops, layered guitar lines, and vocals sometimes tracked using only a headphone mic and family desktop.

The Hermit arrives not as a debut, but as a culmination—a spiritual successor to earlier works which first showcased Patterson’s diaristic lyricism and lo-fi inventiveness. This new project marks a deepening: in craft, in vision, and in self-trust. It’s the sound of an artist learning not just how to write songs, but how to carry her own light—quietly, steadily, and with profound grace.