Album Review: Through the Wall by Rochelle Jordan

With Through the Wall, Rochelle Jordan makes a convincing case that she’s reached a new peak of artistry. It’s both a personal demonstration and a dancefloor celebration, often at the same time.

Courtesy of Rochelle Jordan / EMPIRE.

A British-Canadian raised between London and East Toronto by British-Jamaican parents, Rochelle Jordan has always absorbed diverse sounds—from her father’s Northern soul and reggae records to her older brother’s jungle, garage, and drum ‘n’ bass beats bleeding through the walls—a fusion of 1990s R&B sleekness with the kinetic energy of UK club music and even a gospel undercurrent in her songwriting. After carving out a cult following in the 2010s, her second album Play With the Changes (2021) marked a creative turning point, embracing electronic experimentation and genre-blending ambition. Now with Through the Wall, Jordan doubles down on that vision—delivering a seventeen-track set primarily helmed by her longtime producer KLSH (with contributions from DāM-Funk, Terry Hunter, Byron the Aquarius, Initial Talk, and KAYTRANADA) that fluidly shifts between intimate R&B and club-ready grooves. It’s a confident leap forward from an artist whose identity is rooted in multiplicity.

From the outset, Through the Wall wears its dual nature proudly. Jordan has described the album as “a dedication to God and myself for the journey I’ve been on, a celebration of the artist I’ve become”—and indeed a sense of hard-won faith and optimism runs through the music. However, this introspection is largely conveyed through body-moving productions. The pre-release singles set the expectations. “Crave,” a sultry house jam produced with Chicago legend Terry Hunter, finds Jordan transforming a lovers’ quarrel into a passionate resolution on the dance floor. Over a four-on-the-floor thump and fluttering synths, she purrs, “I need you to touch it… make me remember why we fell in love”—a frankly sensual plea that turns post-argument tension into heat. It’s a song of rekindling desire, and its unabashed eroticism paired with classic house sonics immediately signaled that Jordan was in her zone.

Next came “Doing It To,” a slick UK garage homage that bounces on a 2-step rhythm. With production from Initial Talk and Byron the Aquarius, the track pulses with skittering percussion and sweet-and-sassy vocals; its hook—“If it’s good for you, it’s good for me too”—makes the song a self-assured duet of mutual pleasure. When she dropped “Sweet Sensation” earlier this month, it was clear that this album would not just be about club bangers, but also about nostalgia and melody. That single, crafted with funk maestro DāM-Funk alongside KLSH, oozes an early-‘80s synth-funk vibe. Jordan coos about seeking a “sweet sensation” on a carefree night out, her flirtation on her own terms: “There ain’t a thing that can keep me staying home tonight… doing my thing, ain’t personal.” The easy, breezy groove invites more head-bobbing than fist-pumping, showing Rochelle’s smooth R&B side amidst the uptempo set—a balance she’s long been adept at. Together, these singles set a high bar, each melding soulful vocals with a different shade of dance music. They promised an album full of liberated, joyous energy, and Jordan delivers exactly that.

As a full album, Through the Wall is strikingly cohesive given its sonic range. Jordan and KLSH ensure that the frequent shifts from sweat-soaked club tracks to lush R&B come naturally. The sequencing often places the more braggadocious, high-energy cuts against moments of reflection, allowing the record to breathe. For instance, “Ladida” early on is an immediate standout—an upbeat, garage-house/pop hybrid where Rochelle slips into a sing-rap flow and struts with earned braggadocio. She name-drops Versace and drapes her silky voice over a chunky bassline, exuding the confidence of an “it girl” who knows she’s arrived. That track’s hook is as sticky as its rhythm is propulsive, and it sets a glamorous tone.

Not long after, we get “Around,” another attitude-laced cut in which Jordan’s vocal swag and a bouncing groove make a perfect pair. These songs radiate independence and empowerment without needing to be explicitly stated—the celebratory vibes in the production and her carefree delivery do the talking. The title track “Through the Wall (TTW)” offers a more explicit statement of purpose. Co-produced by KLSH and Byron, “TTW” rides a deep house pulse with an almost spiritual fervor. Jordan uses it as an anthem of perseverance, effectively turning her album title into a mantra. “When you really wanna push through… let them say what they want to—bussin’ through the wall,” she declares in her cool, elastic croon. Even without a gospel choir behind her, the message of transcendence comes through loud and clear. It’s the kind of uplifting, rise-above refrain that ties the album’s personal and spiritual threads together.

Across the record, Jordan’s lyrical themes of faith, self-belief, and optimism are braided into the words and the moods. She isn’t a confessional songwriter in the traditional sense—you won’t find overwrought ballads spelling out every emotion—yet Through the Wall still communicates volumes about her state of mind. On “Eyes Shut,” one of the album’s few downbeat moments, she observes a world glued to screens and searches for deeper meaning beyond the dopamine hits: “Got dopamine and can’t feel my soul… I just feel like there’s something more,” Jordan muses plaintively. It’s a brief glimpse of vulnerability and social commentary amid the party. But even here, the music swirls with a sleek, midtempo electronic R&B atmosphere, never losing the sense of forward motion. “Get It Off” and “Sum” take on heartbreak with a twist—rather than wallowing, Jordan uses these breakup jams to reassert her worth and autonomy. Over slinky, Neptunes-esque beats, she pointedly lets ex-lovers know she’s doing just fine (maybe even thriving) without them, her voice equal parts sweet and dismissive. It’s an empowered approach to post-relationship songwriting that favors self-confidence over sorrow.

As “Close 2 Me” arrives, the tone has shifted back to pure bliss: the track is all about living in the moment, whether out with friends or wrapped up with a new lover, and it positively glows with nostalgic R&B chords and a bubbling dance rhythm. Jordan’s vocal here is tender and airy, bringing a touch of 90s-style romanticism to the mix. Moments like this highlight how effectively Through the Wall balances its nostalgic impulses with a future-facing sound. There’s a meticulous polish to the production—richly “lush and expensive,” as one listener aptly put it—yet it never devolves into retro pastiche. Jordan references the past (be it a hint of Velvet Rope-era Janet or a UK garage classicism), but she’s too forward-thinking to retread old sounds. Instead, she and her collaborators embed those familiar textures in crisp, modern frameworks, and as a whole, an album that can feel as comfortingly familiar as a classic R&B record in one moment and as thrillingly novel as a cutting-edge dance EP in the next.

A major talking point of Through the Wall is the much-hyped KAYTRANADA collaboration, “The Boy.” Far from stealing the spotlight, the track slots in naturally while still giving the project a fresh jolt. Her vocals are glossy and cool atop KATRA’s signature groove, and the chemistry is tangible. In less capable hands, a star producer feature might have overshadowed the artist’s vision, but here it feels like a meeting of equals. In actuality, flow is one of the record’s greatest strengths. Despite spanning almost an hour and seventeen tracks, Through the Wall never drags or overstays its welcome—a corroboration of Rochelle Jordan’s curation and the consistent quality of the material. If anything, the album’s abundance works in its favor; it allows her to showcase the full spectrum of her influences and moods. From the sultry, slow-burning empowerment of the intro and interludes to the unrelenting euphoria of the dance cuts, she covers a lot of ground while maintaining a cohesive point of view. The through-line is freedom: musical, emotional, spiritual. By the final track (the aptly titled “Grace,” which nods to the gratitude underpinning Jordan’s life), we’ve been on a ride through Rochelle’s walls—the barriers she’s broken and the rooms she’s claimed for herself.

With Through the Wall, Rochelle Jordan makes a convincing case that she’s reached a new peak of artistry. It’s an album that celebrates creative freedom and personal identity without needing to preach; the conviction comes through in the confident genre-blending, the refined yet heartfelt vocals, and the infectious sense of joy coursing through its veins. There are moments of genuine emotional veracity, in the quietly reflective corners and in the ecstatic release of a chorus, and together they paint the portrait of an artist reveling in self-possession. Every so often, one could wish for an even more unguarded lyrical moment or two (Jordan tends to keep the writing concise and hooks at the forefront), and those not inclined to dance beats might find the record tilts more toward the club than the bedroom. But these are minor quibbles in an otherwise remarkably executed project. Through the Wall feels like the fulfillment of the promise Rochelle Jordan made with her previous album, and the “complete body of work” she set out to create—one that elicits sweat, joy, and a feeling of hard-earned liberation.

Standout (★★★★½)

Favorite tracks: “Crave,” “Sweet Sensation,” “The Boy,” “Eyes Shut”