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

BIG SANTZ

Lovehearts is a cinematic coming-of-age album set on a park bench by the Thames in the year 2000, where one rare Love Heart sweet accidentally predicts the end of a first love. Each track imagines a different future branching from that single moment — the versions where they stay, leave, try, fail, grow up, or grow apart.

Told through alternating voices, soft folk, glitchy pop, and warm London ambience, this album is about timing, almosts, and the small choices that shape an entire life. A nostalgic, modern multiverse of love, loss, and the sweetness of letting go.

ONLY YOU

GOODBYE

"Breaking up for Xmas" is a late-night indie breakup album set in the two weeks before Christmas.
A young man walks through cold streets, family noise, old rituals and almost-texts, facing the truth he’s been avoiding: missing someone doesn’t mean he should go back.
Lo-fi guitars, small-amp crunch, close-mic’d vocals and raw December honesty carry him through twelve songs about heartbreak, habit, winter softness, and the slow, uneven work of moving on.
It’s intimate, angular, tender, and painfully human — a quiet story told in the coldest part of the year.

TWO WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

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 CITY SHRINKS is a ska-indie breakup album told by a younger quantum me who thinks he can fix feelings with logic, plans, or a good Tesco meal deal. He can’t — and that’s the joke and the tragedy.

Across twelve jangly, frantic, hyper-real London tracks, he stumbles through pubs, night buses, parks, Shoreditch pavements, and the kind of conversations where one person asks to be heard while the other proudly offers solutions. His mates try to help, the city keeps getting smaller, and every shortcut to healing turns into another reminder that he can’t out-think heartbreak.

The guitars are scrappy and warm, the drums punchy, the vocals half-spoken, half-broken, and the songs bounce with the kind of upbeat melancholy you only get when you’re not okay but pretending hard enough to dance anyway.

It’s funny until it hurts.
It’s sad until it laughs.
It’s the sound of a city closing in and a heart finally learning to breathe.

Regrets, I got two (REPRISE)

Too small for this sort of thing

Left my heart on the night bus

Regrets? I got two

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. 

You might also like -
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

“The Allotments” is a nocturnal return to Sydenham Hill — the place where six boys once climbed a broken fence, shared cheap cider, argued about music and politics, and promised they’d never drift apart. Twenty years later, only five come back.

After the funeral of their friend Marcus, the group climbs the hill again to spread his ashes and rediscover the place that shaped them. The allotments are still there, but changed: the fence has been fixed, the skyline is unrecognisable, the old hut leans like it remembers their names, and the bench now has a quiet partner beside it. There is no guitar on the album, in honour of the one who used to carry his everywhere.

Across twelve tracks, the album moves between present-day grief and 90s flashbacks, blending ambient-folk, soft UK electronica, gospel harmonies, wet-green field recordings, and wordless choruses that feel like voices carried on London’s night air. Memory slips, timelines overlap, and the group slowly realises that what they return to never returns the same.

This is an album about friendship, absence, and the way growing up rearranges the map of a place.
A grey-green elegy for the boys they were, the men they became, and the one who didn’t make it back.

Mush, 1998

Ever feel like you've been playing quantum leap in your own life?

Mush, 1998

Quantum me

Related tracks