
The Duke City is reeling after the sudden death of Jordan Magnuson, DJ, future social worker, and irrepressible spark who somehow turned every room she entered into a better party and every heartbreak into fuel for helping others.
Jordan was found deceased at a Central Avenue apartment Tuesday evening. Police have not released the cause of death, and the Office of the Medical Investigator is still determining the manner. Friends who last saw her say she had been radiating the kind of joy that only comes after clawing your way out of darkness.
“Jordan had been through absolute hell, more than most people face in a lifetime,” said best friend Alyx Martinez, voice cracking. “But the past six months? She was finally living the life she fought so hard for. Traveling, dancing until sunrise, studying to become the kind of social worker who would actually save kids like the younger version of herself.”
A UNM graduate student in the Master of Social Work program, Jordan spent her days in class learning trauma-informed care and her nights behind the decks, dropping euphoric, bass-heavy sets that felt like group therapy with better lighting. Her last public performance was just ten days ago at Sister Bar, closing with Max Cooper’s “Empyrean” while a packed dance floor screamed every wordless drop like it was written for them.
This year alone she crossed borders (solo trip to Playa del Carmen), crossed state lines (front-row for Nine Inch Nails in Salt Lake), and crossed countless dance floors in full “goblin mode” with her chosen family. Friends are already compiling a Spotify playlist titled “Jordan’s Forever Setlist” that currently sits at 14 hours and keeps growing.
“Jordan didn’t just play music; she weaponised it against sadness,” said local promoter Ezra Salazar. “You’d leave her set feeling like you could survive anything. Turns out she was teaching us how to survive losing her, too.”
A candlelight vigil and open-decks memorial is being organised for this weekend at the Tractor Brewing taproom on Fourth Street, where friends say Jordan once danced on the bar at last call and declared, “If we’re not making memories, what the hell are we even doing?”
Until then, Albuquerque’s nightlife feels a little dimmer, the bass a little thinner, and every sunrise a little less certain.
Police ask anyone with information about the circumstances of Jordan’s death to contact Crime Stoppers at 843-STOP.
Keep the dance floor warm for us, Jordan. We’ll catch the next drop together someday. 🎧💔
#JordanForever #ABQStrong
