Experience the Real Tino Kamal in New Album ‘Switch’ — No Filters

There are no neat corners in Switch. No smoothing over. No clever edits to make Tino Kamal more digestible. That’s exactly the point. The London-born artist has always been drawn to contradiction—chaotic but calculated, tender but volatile—and Switch leans all the way in.

The EP’s title carries weight. It nods to Tino Kamal’s mother, who carried the name “Switch” as a symbol of unpredictability, and it echoes his own shape-shifting artistic persona. That familial metaphor holds the project together: Switch feels like inherited rebellion. It’s as much about legacy as it is about evolution.

Where some artists approach genre as a playground, Tino Kamal uses it like a warzone. He’s pulling from punk, grime, hip-hop, garage, and pure noise, but there’s no nostalgia here. On “Rodeo Ranger,” he charges through distorted bass and broken glass production, spitting like he’s dragging the mic through concrete. On “24365,” he opens up just enough to let you see the machinery—the exhaustion, the drive, the loneliness that comes with doing it all, all the time.

But Switch isn’t an EP of despair. It’s fiercely alive. “Girl Better Know” flips emotional detachment into a power move. Kamal’s message isn’t about love as salvation—it’s about loving in a way that’s brutally honest, even if that means being emotionally unavailable. That kind of honesty rarely makes it into club-ready rap, but Kamal’s not aiming for radio rotation.

Instead, Switch is steeped in instinct. Tino Kamal doesn’t second-guess, and the project thrives because of it. These songs weren’t overthought—they were felt. Built on impulse, impulse becomes the architecture. The result is something jagged but unmistakably human.

Even in its loudest moments, Switch has clarity. It knows exactly what it is: unfiltered expression from someone unwilling to compromise. It’s music as muscle memory—raw, unpredictable, and impossible to fake.