Fox Theater

“On the surface, TV Girl is a sunny, throwback splash of ‘60s French pop and southern California soul. Yet, under that shiny veneer lays a dark heart, beating with sharp wit and cynical alienation, and the music is all the more alluring for it. TV Girl, comprised of Brad Petering, Jason Wyman, and Wyatt Harmon, was formed in 2010 by Petering as an outlet to blend the love of Spector-esque girl-group pop with an emerging interest in hip-hop. Featuring shimmering vocals and sampled beats, the self-titled debut EP of the same year turned heads online immediately; the group’s lush vintage rhythms and timeless pop hooks were even making waves on the BBC. They continued to release increasingly popular EPs and mixtapes between tours.

In 2014, TV Girl unveiled their first full-length, the critically acclaimed French Exit. The album keeps true to the TV Girl charm with a bevy of electronic samplings infused throughout light and airy guitars, whirring organs, and ethereal vocals. However, this record is not all summer nostalgia, and there are plenty of times where French Exit reads like disaffected fiction. The moody characters in these songs are fueled by revenge as often as love, underpinned by desperation and a deep yearning to connect.

Their 2016 follow up, Who Really Cares, finds the band doubling down on their heavy use of samples. Combining the aesthetic of 90’s hip hop with modern psychedelic pop, Who Really Cares offers a glimpse into the psyche of a love scorned twenty-something.”

TV Girl’s latest album, Death Of A Party Girl, sustains the dream pop, neo-psychedelic feel of previous work. Petering delivers prosaic storytelling in third-person narration, recounting tales of wistful, romantic flings and mini-dramas starring various shades of the archetypal manic pixie dream girl. The songs are echoing and surreal, cut with samples of dialogue from movies and radio shows that convey a grainy, vintage feel. Standouts include “King of Echo Park,” its beachy vibe conjuring images of skinny palm trees, graffitied skateparks, and humming lowriders; “7 Days Til Sunday”, a swaying, upbeat bop where the narrator reminisces of rooftop parties and one night stands in Manhattan; and the intoxicating “Every Stupid Actress”.”

On her new EP, I’m Doing Well, Thanks For Asking, Jordana is getting to know herself again. Or more accurately: getting to know her selves.

It’s fair to say the 22-year-old New York songwriter has shifted shape a few times in her short career. She got her start with homespun indie folk on Classical Notions of Happiness before jumping to the spindly bedroom pop of Something To Say To You. A year later, she was veering into the dreamy haze of her TV Girl collaboration Summer’s Over, before eventually giving way to the hi-gloss pop of Face The Wall. It’s the kind of omnivorous output the phrase something for everyone was invented for.

Along the way she’s managed to make fans of Wallows, Local Natives & Remi Wolf, who’ve each taken her on the road in 2022, landing her in front of crowds that number in the thousands. In many ways, the magic carpet ride of touring that opened up post-pandemic hasn’t allowed Jordana the time to fully change forms again. Instead she’s synthesized a little bit of everything that came before on this new six song short-player. And while the overall sound pulls from each of her past releases, the songs themselves remain obsessed with love and neuroses, being left and leaving, pitying yourself and learning to stop.

“SYT,” the EP’s lead single, is a soaring kiss-off from a jilted lover. “It channels the feelings of empowerment and emotional awareness after a tough breakup,” says Jordana. It wouldn’t sound out of place on Face The Wall, and certainly borrows from her most recent album’s logline advice of overcoming hardships.

Elsewhere, on “You’re In The Way,” Jordana reaches back to the leathery indie pop of Something To Say To You’s “Reason” & “I Guess This Is Life.” It’s a song built around a simple drum loop, guitar strums and Jordana’s voice. “It’s about getting to know yourself again after seemingly wasting time investing in someone else,” says Jordana.

Then, of course, there’s “Careless Mistake,” which updates the hushed folk of Classical Notions, increasing the fidelity and trading in her uke for a piano and a spotlight. It sounds like a song from some future collection of ballads. Which shouldn’t be surprising, the ever shape-shifting Jordana, already aware of some new form still yet to emerge.