Telboy: “I Don’t Want My Lane to Be Controlled by Genres”

The Dagenham-based rapper, singer and producer talks creative independence, late diagnosis, neurodivergent life and why he refuses to settle into one sound.

Moving between rap, grime, soulful vocals and, soon, drum and bass, Telboy is an artist carving out his own path on his own terms. The independent musician from Dagenham, East London, writes, records, produces, mixes and masters his own releases, bringing a hands-on approach to music that refuses to sit neatly in one genre.

With influences ranging from grime and drum and bass to R&B and soul, Telboy’s music explores identity, emotional conflict and accountability, drawing on personal experiences without sacrificing humour or honesty. He has also spoken openly about his late diagnosis, Tourette’s and parenting neurodivergent children, bringing perspectives to his work that are often overlooked in music.

Following a live performance of ‘All Over Again’ on BBC Introducing Essex & Cambridgeshire, Telboy is looking ahead to a new chapter, with unreleased material exploring different sounds and a side of his voice listeners have yet to fully hear.

We caught up with Telboy to talk finding his own lane, the realities of doing everything independently, and why the most important thing is staying honest.

Your music blends rap, grime and sung vocals. How would you describe your sound, and what influences have helped you develop your own lane as an independent artist?

It's a difficult one to put into a box, really, because my musical background is all over the place. I'd describe what I've put out so far as mostly UK rap, but with a lot of grime influence in the way I spit, the way I construct bars and the way I flow. Musically, though, there's a lot more going into it than that.

I actually started out publicly as a singer. I grew up doing musical theatre part-time at stage school, which is funny because I never particularly liked musical theatre, but I got some valuable classical training out of it. From there, I gravitated towards R&B and Soul.

I moved from a tower block in Ilford to Dagenham about halfway through primary school, and Dagenham was really the catalyst for me discovering grime, so I was late to the party in that sense. Suddenly I was living amongst it. I actually grew up on the same estate as Devlin, so it wasn't some distant culture I was admiring from the outside. But strangely, even then, I never once looked at that and thought, "That could be me."

And I don't think that was entirely misplaced insecurity, either. Looking back, I wasn't that artist at the time. I loved grime, but I wasn't anywhere near that level. Meanwhile, behind closed doors, I was listening to grime and drum and bass, writing bars and MCing in my shed to eski beats.

It was a similar thing with singing, actually. I went to stage school with people like Jessie J and Cynthia Erivo, amongst others, so there was never exactly a shortage of talent around me. Even at senior school, I couldn't get the lead in our production of Grease because James Buckley got the role of Danny. Imagine my luck! haha In my world, everywhere I looked there was talent. People with natural ability, people who'd developed their skills much further than I had. And when you're constantly comparing yourself to that, rather than concentrating on your own development, it's probably not a great headspace to be in.

Artists like Mike Skinner were a big influence too. I loved the music, obviously, but it wasn't just the music itself that influenced me, it was his whole approach. When I first heard The Streets, it sounded like nothing else I'd heard. Some people loved it, others thought it was just some geezer talking over music. But he'd made something completely his own, and I really respected that.

I suppose that's what I'm trying to do. I've got all these different influences, from grime and drum and bass to R&B and soul, and I'm trying to explore where they meet. It's not necessarily about combining everything into one sound, either. I'm still developing that side of things, and I don't particularly want to reach a point where I feel like I've found my lane and have to stay in it.

You write, record, produce, mix and master your own music. What does having complete creative control mean to you, and what are the biggest challenges of doing everything yourself?

I think the answer to both parts of that question is responsibility. Having complete creative control means I get to make the decisions, but I'm also responsible for the consequences. If something sounds rubbish, or I've made a bad creative decision, that's on me. Nobody's coming to save me.

And there's a lot more to it than making music. There's artwork, marketing, release strategies and a whole range of skills I've had to develop. Nobody starts out being good at everything, and I'm definitely not, but with every release I get a little bit better at each part of the process.

Having ADHD makes managing everything particularly challenging. I struggle with executive dysfunction, time blindness and switching between tasks. I can waste ridiculous amounts of time jumping from writing to mixing to recording to marketing. So I've learned that I'm much more productive when I concentrate on one thing at a time. I'll have a mixing day, an admin day, whatever it might be. Doesn't always work out that way, obviously.

But that's also one of the advantages of being independent. I get to figure out what works for me. I can experiment with the music, experiment with how I work, make mistakes and learn from them. And I can release music at my own pace. I'm not trying to rush anything out, but I do want to keep releasing and evolving.

That doesn't mean I don't seek advice. I've got people around me whose opinions I trust, and I value that. But ultimately, I make the decisions, and if I get something wrong, that's my responsibility too.

Your music explores identity, emotional conflict and accountability. How much of your personal experiences goes into your songwriting, and do you find music helps you process difficult emotions?

Everything I write comes from personal experience in some way, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm directly writing about something that's happened to me. For example, I've been asked how Tourette's influences my music. Not every song I write is about Tourette's, obviously, but every song comes from the perspective of someone who lives with it. If I'm writing about love, I'm writing about love as someone with Tourette's. It's part of who I am, whether I'm talking about it or not.

I've never really been interested in sitting down and deliberately writing something broad and relatable just because it might do numbers. No disrespect to people who do that, I'd probably be a lot richer if I did! But when I sit down with a pen or open my notes app, that's just not what comes out. And I don't really want to force it.

As for processing emotions, making music and writing it actually do two quite different things for me. The production side of things takes me away from difficult emotions. I can disappear into making a track and forget about whatever's going on for a while. But writing lyrics can almost have the opposite effect.

It’s important to me that everything makes sense. I know in rap you can take certain liberties, but I want what I'm saying to be truthful, and I want everything to follow logically. And sometimes, when I'm trying to put an experience or an argument into words, I'll actually expose flaws in my own thinking.

I'll realise that something doesn't quite add up, or that maybe I haven't been as reasonable or accountable as I thought I was. So, inadvertently, the writing process can force me to confront things I might otherwise overlook. And that can make difficult emotions a bit easier to deal with.

I think identity, emotional conflict and accountability are subjects that are a bit underserved in music. There's plenty about money, partying and how brilliant everything is. I'm not saying we have to go completely the other way and make everything depressing, but I think there's room for a bit more honesty.

You've spoken openly about late diagnosis and parenting neurodivergent children. How have these experiences shaped your perspective on life, your creativity and the music you make?

It's definitely made me more understanding of other people, or at least more conscious of how little we really know about what somebody else might be dealing with.

Everyone you walk past has their own complicated life, their own problems, their own experiences. You're not the main character in everybody else's story. Just because somebody behaves in a way you don't understand, or says something you don't like, doesn't automatically mean there isn't a reason for it from their perspective.

Parenting has reinforced that, especially with neurodivergent children. Kids have a way of holding a mirror up to you. The consequences of the decisions you make are standing right in front of you every day, so you have to be willing to question yourself.

As for my own late diagnosis, I spent most of my life thinking I was just a weirdo. I had tics, intrusive thoughts, various quirks and no real explanation for any of it. So I found ways to just get on with things. Some of that made me resilient, because I had to find my own ways around problems. But some of those coping mechanisms probably weren't particularly healthy.

One thing I've realised is that I almost made a point of being unusual. I'd be the one making jokes, or doing something ridiculous. Looking back, I think part of that was a defence mechanism. I needed to make it so that my weird quirks and tics weren't the weirdest thing about me. If people were looking at the things I was choosing to do, maybe they wouldn't notice the things I was actually self-conscious about.

And I do wonder how much that's shaped my creativity, because I've never particularly enjoyed doing things the normal way. Maybe some of that comes from spending so long feeling different anyway.

It's affected my confidence as an artist, too. When I released Blood, that was really a bit of a soft launch for me. Looking back, I was playing it relatively safe, and I think fear of rejection was part of that. Some of that probably came from years of worrying about how people perceived me because of my Tourette's. I've grown way beyond that now, both in terms of the music I'm making and how comfortable I am putting myself out there.

And when I do write about those experiences, I'm writing from the perspective of someone who spent decades not understanding them. Had I been diagnosed as a child, I'd probably approach those subjects very differently.

I'm not necessarily trying to make music that everybody relates to. I think I'd rather reach specific people who really connect with what I'm saying. If somebody hears something I've written and recognises an experience they thought was theirs alone, then that's worth something.

You recently performed All Over Again on BBC Introducing Essex & Cambridgeshire. How did that experience feel, and what would you like listeners to discover about Telboy as an artist over the next year?

Surreal, to be honest. I think I've still got a bit of imposter syndrome lingering, and I'm not entirely sure that ever goes away. There was a part of me that felt like I'd somehow blagged my way into the BBC and past Matt Plumb to get onto live radio. Obviously, I know that's not the reality, but that's where your head can go sometimes.

The actual performance was a great experience. The atmosphere in the room was brilliant, although it was quite a raw setup compared to what I'm used to. I was so focused on getting every lyric, every syllable and every vocal detail right that I barely thought about the physical side of the performance. Watching some of the footage back, I realised I was practically staring into space because I was so far inside my own head.

The funny thing is, I actually nailed what I thought was my best take first time. Then we discovered the audio levels had peaked, so we had to record it again. I ended up having to get it right twice in a row.

As for the next year, I want people to discover that there's a lot more to me musically than they've heard so far.

I actually started as a singer, just rapping in private, but most of the music I've released recently has been much more focused on my rapping and MCing, with very little proper melodic singing. So there's still a whole side of me that people haven't really heard yet.

I've already got a bunch of songs recorded, and there's Drum and Bass on the horizon as well. I'm looking forward to getting into some of those different sounds and seeing what I can do with them. I'm not interested in finding one sound and living in it forever. That's not to say there won't be common themes running through my music, but I don't want my lane to be controlled by genres or subject matter.

For me, it's honesty, introspection and exploration. Some people are happy to find their sound and live in it, and there's nothing wrong with that. I just don't think that's going to be me.