Discover Nardia’s New Song “Is It You” and Its Deep Feelings

With her latest single “Is It You,” the Melbourne-born singer-songwriter Nardia brings a deeply felt vulnerability that doesn’t beg for attention — it earns it. It’s not just a song. It’s a moment suspended in the air, trembling with potential heartbreak or the kind of magic only a spark can bring.

The track is the first glimpse into her upcoming album Own Every Scar, and if this is the overture, we’re in for something devastatingly beautiful. “Is It You” captures that fleeting intensity of new attraction — the silent pull toward someone that awakens something raw and unspoken. It’s not about declarations; it’s about the space between looks, the thoughts you never say, and the emotional fingerprints left behind.

What makes Nardia’s approach so striking isn’t just the sound — a seamless blend of soul, R&B, blues, and jazz — it’s the intentionality. She doesn’t genre-hop for novelty; she inhabits each style like a different room in the same haunted house. Blues is where she gets dangerous — gritty, unvarnished, and emotionally bare. Jazz is where she floats, improvising like a woman chasing ghosts she’s not ready to let go of. And R&B? That’s where she tells the truth.

Recorded between the sacred musical grounds of Nashville and Memphis, Own Every Scar carries the weight of legacy and the breath of rebirth. Memphis, steeped in the spirits of Otis Redding and Ann Peebles, seems to have poured its molasses-thick emotion into her vocal phrasing. Nashville sharpened her pen, reminding her that every line must land, every lyric has to count.

But Nardia is not trying to mimic American soul traditions — she’s expanding them. Representing Melbourne in a genre often associated with the U.S. South could feel like an odd fit for some, but for Nardia, it’s a calling. She understands that soul isn’t defined by zip codes or history books. It’s defined by honesty. And Own Every Scar, by her own account, is the most honest she’s ever been.

There’s a ritualistic nature to her process — candle-lit silences, deep breaths, eyes closed — like she’s summoning the truth before the mic even hears it. And maybe that’s the magic. She’s not chasing trends or trying to go viral. She’s chasing a feeling — sometimes from a dream, sometimes from regret — and shaping it into sound.

“Is It You” isn’t loud, but it’s loud enough to reach under your ribs. It doesn’t try to solve anything. It just exists — tender, tentative, and real. That’s the thing about Nardia. She’s not selling perfection. She’s offering proof that scars don’t make you broken — they make you human. And if this is what she’s capable of at the edge of vulnerability, the full album might just wreck us in the best possible way.