Beauty in the ruins

The Quiet Left Behind

Sofa, kids, Alan Watts is a concept album about waking up from the version of your life you were taught to want.

From existential teenage philosophy, to invisible contracts, to the matrix of other people’s expectations… the album follows the collapse of every identity I tried to build, and the quiet strength that emerged underneath it.

It’s a journey through behaviourism, ambition, ego, money, mirrors, boundaries, and finally — the place Alan Watts was pointing to all along: the simple, ordinary miracle of being here.

Across glitch-folk, alt-electronica, whispered mantras and domestic clarity, this album charts the slow shift from “fixing myself” to “seeing what’s what.”

No masks.
No heroics.
Just the truth that survived the noise.

Made with the Quantum Me process — one breath, one insight, one song at a time.

Thank you for listening.
Take me home.

Let it land

The Formula is the story of what happens when discipline becomes momentum, and momentum becomes identity. It’s a London hip hop study in pressure, precision, and the quiet violence of focus — the late nights where the world shrinks to a tunnel and the work becomes the only thing you can hear.

Across twelve tracks, the project follows an artist who cracks the code, outruns himself, listens to the algorithm whisper back, and ultimately breaks the loop he built. It’s drill-adjacent, but inward-looking; confident, but aware of the cost; philosophical, but always grounded in real human hours — kids upstairs, sofa light, missed calls, breath regained.

This isn’t an album about success.
It’s an album about the discipline behind it,
the ghosts it creates,
and the freedom that returns when you finally slow down.

The Formula isn’t something you find.
It’s something you become.

You might also like: 
Not the one: https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/not-the-one
Sofa, Kids, Alan Watts: https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/sofa-kids-alan-watts
Big Santz (Xmas Special): https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/big-santz-xmas-jungle-special-edition
God mode: https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/god-mode 

REWRITE THE CODE

To Have and To Hold is not a biography, a lecture, or a historical reconstruction. It is an imagined world — one you step into to feel your way around an idea rather than to learn it.

The album takes place loosely in early-20th-century Cambridge, at the moment when Western thought was beginning to strain under its own certainty. Science had proved astonishingly powerful at breaking reality into parts, explaining mechanisms, and producing results — yet at the same time it was encountering problems it could no longer fully contain. Probability was replacing certainty. Events mattered as much as objects. Meaning no longer sat still.

Out of this tension emerged process philosophy: the idea that reality is not made of finished things, but of ongoing happenings — that love, time, marriage, and even truth itself are not states you reach, but activities you keep participating in.

The album imagines this moment through a human lens. A mathematician trying to complete a system of logic. A thinker insisting that nothing important is ever truly finished. Proofs accumulating. Years passing. A marriage understood first as a statement, then slowly revealed as a practice. Love appearing not as romance in the foreground, but as something quietly unfolding elsewhere — happening whether it is attended to or not.

Rather than explaining these ideas directly, the songs allow you to inhabit them. You hear bells ring. You feel evenings close in. You sense the weight of unfinished work and the relief of letting something continue without control. The philosophy is not taught; it is lived.

This is a soft documentary in sound — an audio quantum leap into a world. Its purpose is not accuracy, quotation, or instruction, but immersion. By the time the album ends, you may not be able to define process philosophy in a sentence — but you may feel why it arose, what problem it was answering, and why it still matters.

To Have and To Hold is an exploration of commitment not as possession, but as attention.
Of marriage not as a conclusion, but as renewal.
Of understanding not as something you arrive at — but something that keeps happening.

If you listen closely, nothing here ever quite resolves.
But something continues.

Cambridge in November

Set over the course of a single wedding in the English countryside, this album isn’t about the couple getting married — it’s about everyone else.

Through arrivals, reunions, rituals, speeches, dances, late nights and quiet departures, the songs trace what happens around a wedding: old friendships resurfacing, new ones forming by accident, belief briefly working even for the unconvinced, and the subtle realisation that some relationships change simply because time has passed.

Nothing dramatic happens.
Nobody’s life is overturned.
But by the time the last song fades, something has shifted.

This is an album about thresholds — the ones we cross deliberately, and the ones we notice only after we’ve crossed them.

You might also like:
The city shrinks (Indie-ska break up album): 
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/the-city-shrinks
What if I won't? (album about the moment of almost making a big change)
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/what-if-i-wont
Sofa, Kids, Alan Watts
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/sofa-kids-alan-watts
Is it love songs (mainly chill)
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/love-songs

something old, something new

A Robin Hood Christmas is a modern London folk myth.

Told through wandering minstrel instruments — wooden flutes, small strings, footsteps and breath — and threaded with the low pulse of the city, the album reimagines the legend of Robin Hood in a winter London where Christmas doesn’t reach everywhere equally.

This is Robin of Epping Forest: moving on foot, off-grid, redistributing what’s pooled too high. Alongside him are Little John, who carries the weight; Maid Marian, who keeps the network alive; Friar Tuck, who offers warmth without judgement; and the Sheriff of Notting Hill, whose power is polite, procedural, and still.

Medieval folk textures blend with subtle modern sounds — jungle fragments, underground drones, glitch echoes — not as contrast, but as continuity. The forest is no longer a place. It’s a practice. It moves where people move.

There are no heroes here. No victories.
Just winter held together — this time.

EVERYTHING I TAKE

This is a New Year’s Eve album for people who don’t want New Year’s Eve.

It follows one night in London — from staying in with nothing in the fridge, through bad group chats and worse plans, late-night swiping, missed calls, and the quiet decision to leave the house anyway. It’s about avoidance, interruption, and momentum; about how sometimes the smallest shift — a message, a hat, a train door closing — is enough to change the direction of a night.

Sonically, it sits between indie and ska: jangly guitars, walking bass, warm brass, and a British voice that’s funny, defensive, hopeful, and human in equal measure. There are no big resolutions here, no guaranteed pull, no fireworks payoff — just movement, possibility, and the relief of not staying stuck.

If you’ve ever thought “it’s a no from me” and then gone out anyway, this album is for you.

Nothing in the Fridge

Mercutio Leaves Early tells the story of the one character in Romeo and Juliet who understands the system — and leaves before it finishes him.

This is not a love story.
It’s an album about wit as a survival technology, and what happens when irony exits a world that can no longer tolerate play.

The first half moves fast: language as armour, jokes as evasive manoeuvres, intelligence alive in the room. Mercutio mocks destiny, dismantles romance, and treats seriousness as a dangerous affectation. Then he dies — abruptly, accidentally, without ceremony.

The second half unfolds in his absence. Words remain, but their timing is gone. Love becomes earnest and therefore lethal. Conviction accelerates into action. Blame widens from individuals to systems. By the end, what’s left isn’t grief, but a quieter, colder truth: when the smartest voice leaves early, the world doesn’t mourn — it simply hardens.

Musically, the album begins with witty, kinetic pop and drifts steadily into minimal, distant electronic spaces, mirroring the loss of humour, flexibility, and human margin. It ends not with closure, but with silence — the sound of a room after the intelligence that made it bearable has gone.

Grave Man

It never starts with violence.
It starts with something that makes sense.

Album:  https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/how-it-happens


How It Happens traces the quiet sequence that turns ambition into permission, belief into action, and action into consensus. Each track marks a threshold — a moment that feels reasonable on its own, harmless even — until the shape of the whole becomes impossible to deny.

This is a story told without villains. No madness, no monsters. Just incentives, shortcuts, loyalties, and the slow comfort of agreement. Gold gets heavy. Silence gets useful. History finds its voice.

The music moves the same way: restraint tightening into momentum, warmth flattening into certainty, individual voices dissolving into chorus.

Not a warning.
A pattern.

You might also like:
Not the one
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/not-the-one
The formula
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/the-formula
Sofa, Kids, Alan Watts
https://soundcloud.com/quantumme/sets/sofa-kids-alan-watts

The Account

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Ever feel like you've been playing quantum leap?

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Grave Man

Quantum me

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