Siege Mental by The Jaffa Kid: A Techno Journey That Sticks Like Glue
Alright, let’s get into Siege Mental, the 2019 self-released techno masterpiece from The Jaffa Kid. This UK-based artist doesn’t just make beats—he builds worlds. And this album? It's like stepping into a dimly lit warehouse where time kinda melts away. You’re in it for the long haul, folks.
First up, “Open Secret.” Man, this track hits you right outta nowhere. It starts off with these creeping synths that feel like they're sneaking up on ya, and then BAM—it drops into this relentless groove that refuses to quit. What sticks with me is how it feels both cold and alive at the same time, if that makes sense. Like, you can almost see your breath fogging up the air while your feet keep moving against your will. It’s hypnotic, brooding, and somehow still danceable. If I had to pick one standout, this would be it.
Then there’s “Endless Fade,” which honestly sounds like its name. This tune drags you into this weird liminal space—like when you’re zoning out on a train ride but suddenly notice the scenery changing faster than it should. There’s this slow-building tension in the background that never fully resolves, leaving you hanging. Kinda frustrating, but also kinda perfect. It’s not the kind of thing you’d blast at a party (unless you hate your friends), but late at night? With headphones? Absolute magic.
The rest of the album has its moments too—“Nomad II” brings some serious tribal vibes, and “Words And Whims” feels like an experiment gone wonderfully wrong. But what really ties everything together is the vibe. The Jaffa Kid isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel here; he’s more interested in tweaking it until it wobbles just enough to catch your attention.
What’s wild about Siege Mental is how unapologetically raw it feels. No flashy production tricks or guest features—just pure, gritty techno crafted with care. Listening to it feels like eavesdropping on someone’s inner monologue, all jagged edges and fleeting thoughts.
So yeah, give this album a spin if you’re into electronic music that doesn’t spoon-feed you emotions. Or if you just want something to soundtrack your next existential crisis. Either way, works.
Oh, and here’s the kicker—I couldn’t stop thinking about how most people probably wouldn’t play this at a BBQ. But maybe they should. Imagine Aunt Karen trying to two-step to “Octaxonagon II.” Now THAT’S entertainment.