ukg, ragga-jungle, gospel-jungle, spoken word, experimental christmas

BIG SANTZ

“Mirrors / Tristesse” is a summer album about love, guilt, freedom and the versions of ourselves we try to outrun. Set against the heat of the Mediterranean coast, these twelve songs move through the first sparks of desire, the jealousy and mischief that follow, the quiet tragedies we don’t see until they’re already behind us, and the melancholy that becomes a permanent companion.

Built from a fusion of French chanson, chamber-folk and intimate indie storytelling, the album draws on the emotional architecture of Mirrors — self-interrogation, memory, the stories we perform — and carries it into the sun-drenched world of Bonjour Tristesse.

From the villa above the sea to the Parisian atelier, from the white suit on stage to the final acceptance of tristesse itself, these songs follow the arc of a summer that begins like a lie and ends like a lesson you never stop learning.

A coastal dream darkened by consequence — a sister album to Mirrors, and a chapter in its shadow.

Jealous Mission II

Anne Arrives (Les Glaïeuls)

He Symbolises Freedom

South of the River is a tight, funny, quietly emotional London tale told across one long night and its soft morning after. Electro-acoustic guitars, late-city beats and warm, conversational vocals follow a twenty-something trying to get home for Sunday lunch after a simple drink turns into a full south-of-the-river odyssey. There’s chaos, a stray dog, a night bus standoff, a lock-in, a near ghosting, and a sprint back across the bridge — but underneath the misadventure sits a deeper story about love, luck, and growing up slowly in a city that forgives more than it forgets.
A messy night out becomes a small myth about finding your footing, keeping your promises, and returning to the people who make you try.

Lock-In at The Duke

Perigee is an album about the moment the world comes too close.
A lunar-paced love story told in quiet weather, it follows two people through the night of a supermoon — from the shock of unexpected brightness to the slow return of distance.
Written in Petrichor’s signature atmosphere of rainlight (soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/petrichor), wet streets, and soft memory, these tracks trace an orbit of intimacy: closeness, drift, tide, ache, release, return.
It’s an album for the nights when the city glows a little too brightly, for the gravity you feel without touching, and for the simple truth that some connections, like the moon, circle back whether you’re ready or not.
A gentle, cinematic meditation on distance, longing, and the cosmic pull between two people moving through the same sky.

ORBIT DECAY

The Naughty List is a Christmas-jungle folk tale set on the mythical snow-dusted Santz estate, where rumours move quicker than sirens and one crumpled notebook can flip a whole community inside out.

Big Santz — a battered-red-puffer Father Christmas — drops his personal Naughty List in the stairwell. Within hours, the estate spirals into paranoia, gossip, heartbreak and humour. Kids panic. Neighbours whisper. Power structures crackle. Because everyone, deep down, fears being judged — by Santa, by society, by each other.

Across eleven breakbeat-driven tracks, Lexi Logic, Nana Beats, the Fox Crew, and the Pigeon riders assemble to reclaim their dignity after discovering the real twist: the estate itself has been quietly placed on an institutional Naughty List — a low-priority postcode in the system.

What follows is a cinematic, hymn-like heist:
rewriting the list, stealing back their place in the world, and finding each other in the snow.

Nobody wants to be on the naughty list. But we're all on someone's. 

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More from Big SANTZ : https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/big-santz-xmas-jungle-special-edition
More Traditional Christmas singing: https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/qhristmas-christmas-playlist 


You’re On The Naughty List

“Oxford Revisited” is a chamber-folk narrative told across eight hours of a 20-year reunion at New College, Oxford. It’s the sound of returning to the architecture of your youth and discovering the internal rooms you’ve locked or forgotten. Over fingerpicked guitar, warm cello, and soft glitch textures, the album follows a 40-year-old protagonist as he retraces the pathways of his first independence—old staircases, renovated bars, candlelit halls—meeting the ghosts of who he was.

Across the evening he reconnects with Anna, a woman whose life was transformed by a book he wrote in his twenties. Her gratitude destabilises him at first; he barely recognises the idealistic version of himself she quotes back. But as the night deepens—from laughter with first-year neighbours to the humbling sobriety of an alumni football match—he begins to warm to the idea that the artist he used to be isn’t gone, just quiet.

By midnight, standing on the Mound beneath the warm lamps and cool air, he accepts a truth he’s avoided: growing up didn’t erase the creative self—it only buried it under routine. Anna didn’t come to remind him of the past; she came to return him to himself.

This is an album about memory, drift, courage, and the dignity of beginning again. Not nostalgia—recognition.

Grace Before Meat

Quantum me