Across ‘BLACK STAR,’ Amaarae engages in a conversation with the nation’s musical history and codifies her definition of being Ghanaian.
On the surface, Amaarae’s ‘BLACK STAR’ is a sleek, hyper-modern pop project designed for global consumption, but to listen on that level alone is to miss its profound depth. Dig just a little deeper, and you find that the album is meticulously coded: a love letter to Ghana that builds a sonic world upon a foundation of a local identity without diluting it. This isn’t an artist merely sampling her heritage; she is using it as her compass.
Amaarae has never shied away from her identity. If anything, she’s flaunted it unapologetically, owning her role as a Ghanaian artist on the global stage. Her dedication runs deep. From consistently expressing love for her homeland to the determined effort to perform at home, as seen with her committed though ultimately unrealized preparation for TGMA 2024. Despite a tight rehearsal window, she flew her entire crew to Ghana, ready to deliver for the nation of her heritage.
Artists, after two consecutive successful albums, tend to put pressure on themselves to replicate that energy on their previous albums. Amaarae, in her true artistic non-conforming nature, sidesteps that entirely. Her third album, ‘BLACK STAR,’ isn’t just a collection of songs; it’s an ode to the Ghanaian girl. Look at the rollout, every move was drenched in Ghanaian essence. From her infectious online conversations with the Asakaa boys, expressing a genuine desire to collaborate, which later materialized into a link-up in London, to her Coachella debut, where she didn’t just perform but represented Ghana by flying the Ghanaian flag high and performing records by other Ghanaian artists; and in doing so platforming those talents on one of the biggest music and cultural stage.
Intentionality has been the throughline. She owns her identity as a Ghanaian artist working within an unconventional medium, striving to connect with a local audience that may not always grasp her sound, yet persistently showcasing the culture on her own terms. In interviews, she consistently speaks of emerging Ghanaian talents such as Darkua, Anabel Rose, SuperJazzClub, and more, ensuring that the next wave gets shine.
On ‘BLACK STAR,’ the title, along with the cover artwork is the first clue to her ambitions. It draws from the history of the Black Star, the iconic symbol at the center of the Ghanaian flag, which represents the “Hope of Africa.” She replaces the black star with herself, making her reclamation more personal. She is the Black Star, a true Ghanaian artist creating beautifully curated artistic and sonic expressions deep-rooted in the heritage of her motherland while concurrently pulling global Pop into her orbit and redefining it on her terms.
The most striking evolution is her full embrace of the “Ghanaian Bounce.” The drum isn’t just an element in the mix here; it’s the entire foundation. On tracks like “Stuck Up” and “ms60”-that deeply resonant, almost humid rhythm-the unmistakable heartbeat of Accra’s clubs, is infused. Ghanaians are a rhythmic people and, as such, like to not just dance to music, but engage with it. Thus, nothing beats a call-and-response element in a song. On “Stuck Up,” this is incorporated with the “Pa-Pa-Pa Pa-Pa” hi-hat rhythm, complemented with kick-backs. This rhythm is mostly heard on multiple instruments in different tempos during a “Jama” session. It’s evidence of a local rhythm achieving global appeal without shedding an ounce of its identity.
Across ‘BLACK STAR,’ Amaarae engages in a conversation with the nation’s entire musical history. You can hear the legacy of Highlife–the sophisticated, post-independence sound that dominated from the 1950s through to the 1980s–in the melodic structures employed. It’s there in the smooth, infectious guitar work that underpins many of her tracks, even when they’re glitched out and run through a Hyperpop filter.
It’s a connection to a time of elegance and cultural pride. More directly, she pulls from Hiplife, the genre that ruled the 1990s and 2000s, fusing HipHop sentimentalities with Highlife melodies and samples. This is where the narrative swagger finds its roots. She pays homage to the Hiplife genre by perfectly executing a record that samples one of the most iconic records of the 2000s, “DEEBA,” on “FREE THE YOUTH.” Then there’s the exploration of Asorkpor, this fast-paced genre, which surged to popularity across Ghana in the late 2010s,
Born in the streets of Greater Accra by the gifted and energetic musicians and dancers from the Ga tribe, Asorkpor can be heard on records like Skrewfaze’s “GBALAGAZA” and Article Wan’s “SOLO.” Amaarae doesn’t just reference the sound; she recontextualizes it. Asorkpor’s rapid rhythms and tweaked Highlife elements–faster than Azonto and more intense than Alkayida–find a new lease of life in her hands. A record like “FREE THE YOUTH” also hints at the Asorkpor sound. Although “S.M.O.” might not incorporate the Asorkpor beat, the dance by Iveth Stunner in the music video is one of the types commonly defined by the Asorkpor beat.
From the start, an Amaarae project has never been just about the sound, the themes are just as potent. The playful exploration of desire and confidence from ‘Fountain Baby’ has calcified into pure, unapologetic assertion on ‘BLACK STAR.’ This isn’t just about discovering her power, it’s about wielding it. Take “Fineshyt” and “Girlie-Pop!,” these records are anthems of audacious agency. Amaarae’s lyrics are a masterclass in confident seduction, placing her in complete control of the narrative, her desires, and the dancefloor. This is the female gaze, mastered. It presents a modern African femininity that is sexy, smart, and utterly in charge. She’s not showing off; she’s simply existing in her realm.
However, perhaps the most Ghanaian theme on the album is artistic hospitality; it’s a deeply cultural tenet. Amaarae translates this into her curation. Where her sophomore, ‘Fountain Baby,’ skewed solo, this album welcomes a community of voices. The increased features aren’t just artistic choices or a bid for Western validation; they’re cultural statements. Amaarae is the host, inviting her guests to partake in her world, to add their flavour to a foundation that is unequivocally Ghanaian. This hospitality is reiterated on “ms60” as Naomi Campbell reads out the lyrics, “…I am the Black Star,” where she is embraced not only as a guest, but as an honorary citizen. That’s Ghanaian hospitality embodied. This is “Akwaaba” as a curatorial power move.
This extends to the intimacy of identity. To the world, she is the acclaimed auteur Amaarae, a name that headlines articles and songs on major streaming platforms. Her given name, Ama Serwah Genfi, is often reserved for formal introductions or small print. Yet, in her song “Dove Comeron,” a revealing line is uttered: “I let this girl call me Ama.” It’s an instructive moment that lets us know that being referred to by her real name is a privilege reserved for those closest to her. By sharing this on the record, she offers the world a glimpse into her identity as a native Ashanti woman, born on a Saturday, for whom “Ama” is a deeply cultural namesake. It is a subtle invitation to the global audience to discover the rich meanings behind Ghanaian names and, in doing so, to explore the nuanced beauty of the Ghanaian culture she so artfully weaves into her music.
Amaarae brings Bree Runway on board, another Ghanaian artist who can boast of an exceptional linguistic dexterity. On “Starkilla,” Bree’s code-switching into Twi and English with the line, “…yeah, Ma Ninko all night,” serves as a wink and a nod to her Ghanaian audience. Amaarae, through Bree, is indirectly teaching the world, albeit briefly, to sing in a language from her motherland, ensuring her most futuristic productions feel tangibly connected to the warmth of home.
‘BLACK STAR’ is Amaarae’s most confident and culturally resonant work to date. It’s an album that doesn’t ask for a seat at the table; it builds its own and sets the menu. She draws from the rhythms of her home, the legacy of Hiplife, the soul of Highlife, and the language of her youth to power an utterly limitless vision.
The album’s central thesis is compelling: true global appeal is born from deep local authenticity. Amaarae’s Ghanaian identity isn’t a marketing angle; it’s the fuel for her artistic essence. ‘BLACK STAR’ is a declaration that she isn’t just bringing Ghana to the world; rather, she’s showing the world how to find its way to Ghana, on her own impeccably curated terms, and that might be the most powerful statement of all.
