At a time where the world feels increasingly polarised, kindness has become one of the most subversive emotions one can express. To feel deeply and to lead with empathy is a quiet revolution, with Amaarae, one of the most innovative voices in contemporary music, heading that charge.
Interview tak­en from METAL Magazine issue 53. Adapted for the online version. Order your copy here.
The Ghanaian-American musician, born Ama Serwah Genfi, began crafting her sonic identity long before the world caught up to her vision. After spending her early years between Ghana and the United States, she self-released her debut EP, Passionfruit Summers, a project that introduced listeners to her reimagination of Afropop. Since then, she has carved out a lane entirely her own, to become known for her ability to transcend genres, distinct delivery and meticulous artistry. It was her 2023 sophomore album Fountain Baby that propelled her to global recognition. Since then, she has garnered a cult following, broken records and made history. She represents African sounds on the world stage. 
This August saw the release of her third studio album, Black Star, a masterclass in world building where sound transforms into colour, femininity isn’t fragile but ferocious and sensuality also becomes a language of power. It’s a global project recorded between Miami, São Paulo, Ghana and Los Angeles, one that expands the language of Black identity, diaspora, and femininity while keeping community as its key pillar.  Fusing sonic textures ranging from highlife, baile funk, Detroit club and zouk, her vulnerability and emotional clarity command space as she refuses to be boxed in sonically, culturally, or emotionally. Her lyrics trace desire, freedom, and identity not as points of conflict, but as continuums of self-expression. She rejects the cynicism that we are overexposed to in our digital lives, she instead turns inward toward self-knowledge and softness.
“You can’t be confident if you’re not kind,” she delivers with bold precision, outlining a new manifesto where generosity and gentleness become a measure of strength and attractiveness. 
Amidst global recessions, she insists on togetherness. “We’re nothing without community,” she shares, bridging Africa and its diasporas, queerness and community, the personal and the ancestral, the private self and the collective body through her artistry and consciousness. Speaking from Los Angeles, where she’s currently finishing the deluxe version of her latest album, we caught up with Ama to chat all things creative evolution, growth, social media, dating and the future. Amidst it all, we dive into Amaarae’s unshakeable sense of self.
Hi Ama! Lovely to meet you. How are you? Where are you calling us from?  
Nice to meet you too. I’m good, I’m joining from Los Angeles right now. 
You released your anticipated third studio album “Black Star” in August and with a deluxe on the way, how has this whole year been for you?
It’s been a very good eventful year. I’ve had a lot of fun releasing the music. This is probably the most fun I’ve had during a rollout and even though it’s been a lot, I’m happy with how the project has been received. 
In previous interviews regarding the album, you’ve mentioned your goals of “world domination” and of “having fun” quite repeatedly. Would you say you met those goals? Did new ones arise meanwhile?  
I don’t know if world domination has happened completely yet, I will say that my goals have been realigned, as far as what I enjoy and how I enjoy doing it. I’m interested in exploring other facets of my creativity, being successful in those too. So, once I get to really lean into some of my other talents and dreams, then I can say maybe world domination will be achieved, or at least a completion of some form of happiness.
How do these new goals present themselves in your personal life? 
Mental and emotional wellness and growth was a big one for me, especially as I started working on “Fountain Baby” two years ago. That was a very turbulent time that turned cathartic. “Black Star” was a conclusion of doing a lot of the work, not only with myself, but in actual therapy and coming to a place where I understand myself, my emotions, my mind. I’m able to better manage my thoughts and my feelings. That lifted a weight, gave me a freedom and a lightness that I was able to apply to this album.
I’ve read that “Black Star” other than sonically being a world project, it literally was conceived as one, starting in Miami then migrating to Brazil before wrapping up in LA. What were your experiences like in these cities? 
I’ve been to Miami several times so going back there was fun. Miami is like being in Cuba or in a nicer version of Ghana. Very humid, very tropical. There’s a lot of Haitian and Hispanic heritage and life out there, so the food is great, the people are great, the beaches are great, and the music is great. After that we went to São Paulo, even though I really wanted to go to Salvador, because it’s where a lot of the Afro-Brazilians are. If you have knowledge of the slave trade, there’s a place in Ghana called Jamestown. That’s where the Door of No Return is. That’s where a lot of the slaves who were kidnapped and captured were ferried from through Portugal, Brazil and then to North Carolina, Georgia, etc. That felt like a connection and heritage for me. A lot of the language in Portuguese has tones and expressions similar to Twi or Yorùbá aside from the music and culture, being in Brazil felt like creating a familial connection, getting to know an external part of what it is to be African, experiencing it through a different lens. 
Did you have time to explore São Paulo at least? 
Definitely. We went to a lot of sambas, and that was so beautiful. I got to see live drummers that reminded me of live events in Ghana. We got to go to a lot of parties, including one with Batekoo. It was beautiful, and it was great to work with a lot of the producers too. They visited the home, a lot of them would bring their partners or kids, it was a family-oriented environment, it reminded me a lot of back home. Brazilians are so friendly and kind, they treat you like family. We then wrapped the project between Ghana and LA. Ghana feels like a homecoming and in LA, it was an editing process so there wasn’t too much going on there. 
When traveling, in general or in these cities specifically, what do you do when you have down time? 
I sleep. I chill by a body of water or go to a nice restaurant.
I feel you on the body of water, religiously. 
What sign are you? 
Cancer. I’m assuming you’re a water sign too...
Okay, twin! Me too, July Cancer. 
Oh, so we’re birthday month twins, love. 
Period (laughs). 
Going back to “Black Star,” the album is a direct reflection and homage to your multicultural background and upbringing, growing up between America and Ghana. With such an international upbringing, would you say your personality changes depending on which country you’re in or on which language you’re speaking in?  
I wouldn’t say my personality changes. I learned to be adaptable, as we moved a lot when I grew up. I’ve lived between Ghana, Atlanta, New Jersey, New York and London, all in my youth. So, I was raised to be worldly and adaptable, to learn how to make friends quickly, how to engage with people and their interests, how to be a good conversationalist, how to go into spaces, try different foods, and learn the language to be a good communicator. 
I think that reflects a lot on your music. 
It has resonated in my music, from all the things that I’m inspired by and also being good at expression and communication. The biggest change would be when I speak my native tongue, which is Twi. It’s a sharper language and, saying little things, oh, or ei can mean so much. The language back home in Ghana is rich in context and sound. One sound can probably mean fifty million different things based on body language, the style of expression or the tone. 
There’s always something quite poetic, carefree and sensual in your approach to love in your lyricism. In order to write something so personal, was being away from home, touring, opening for Sabrina Carpenter, doing Coachella as the first solo Ghanaian artist to perform at the festival and having a lot going on, a challenge? 
To be honest, no. When I work on an album, I find ways to stop everything I’m doing. I focus on that. 
It’s a sexually charged album with all kinds of pleasure and heightened experiences being one of the core pillars of the project. Do you think that you have gone through a lot that has made you learn about love and sexuality? 
I agree with what you’ve said, but it’s more sensual than sexual. I feel the lyrics do a good job at being tasteful, versus being very explicit and flagrant.  “B2B” is a great example of that, where it’s all innuendos about sex. It never fully describes in an explicit way what’s happening. I like the idea of keeping things mysterious and tasteful in that way, because it heightens the idea and the feeling of yearning.
Speaking of yearning, what dating advice would you give me? 
That’s so funny. I would say, as long as you learn your lesson in due time, I don’t think you should regret any lover that you’ve taken, especially if you’ve grown from this situation, or if you’ve learned from this situation. I have no regrets in love, and I am absolutely a hundred percent in love with all my exes and in love with everything that I’ve learned and experienced with them. That’s it, as long as you don’t have any regrets.
Note taken, thank you. “Black Star” took shape as you began to feel more embraced by people in Ghana, many of whom misunderstood or had preconceived notions about you and your family. How have the people back in Ghana, from closer circles to a more general public reacted to the album since it’s been out?  
Some people love it. Some people hate it. Some people are in the middle on it. There’s a community of kids that can appreciate it for what it is, because this is the kind of music that they dance to, party to, then the gen pop will come to it in due time. 
Have you noticed a shift in attitudes or the way people treat you in Ghana? 
Definitely. Throughout my career, I’ve held my country in high regard, I’ve been a great representative. I see now that I’m well respected. I love when a lot of young kids feel inspired and tell me that my success, or my boldness, is aspirational. That’s cool, that’s the biggest compliment anyone can pay you. 
How do you cope with the image others have of you, versus the one you have of yourself?
I don’t think about people’s image of me at all. I only think about my image of myself. 
In a current cultural climate that equates emotional expression with weakness, choosing empathy and kindness over dominance has become rebellious. How does kindness overlap with confidence and with being a black star for you? 
You can’t be confident if you’re not kind. Some of the meanest people that are ugly in spirit, that might appear confident and indestructible, do not have a thimble of kindness within them. Being kind, being generous, being free of heart and spirit is the sexiest thing you can do as a human being. We’re in very difficult times. Climate-wise, as far as society and politics goes, I see a lot of disdain and unwarranted hate online that people have for one another, for artists or public figures. I see little disdain for the people that can actually help and change the economic, social or political situation. We need to remember that we’re all human beings, we’re nothing without community. We need to be kinder to each other, online and offline.
How do you protect that tenderness in life, which sometimes demands hardness, toughness, or invulnerability especially as a woman of colour?
I have strong boundaries, it’s clean and cut. If you don’t fuck with me, I won’t fuck with you. That doesn’t mean I’m ever disrespectful or unkind. If I’ve ever had an experience with someone and they didn’t treat me with respect, I know to never speak with them ever again. 
“Black Star” on one hand is a personal and introspective album, on the other hand, it’s a bold love letter to Black women and yourself as a symbolic Black star too. Having Naomi Campbell adlibbing about being a controversial diva on “ms60,” do you conflate being controversial, edgy and even mean with coolness?
Yo, that’s so funny. You shady. No, I do not. I’ve watched Naomi since I was a child. I was born in 1994 so you realise I was born when Naomi Campbell was already a supermodel. In comparison to her peers, the majority of them being white, she’s got a bad rep for being herself and being bold. She’s got unnecessary heat just being clear with who she is, what she likes, what she will not tolerate. A lot of women of colour get a bad rap if they’re vocal about their boundaries. 
She’s a legend, obviously. Did you get any advice from her? 
She was chilling for real. We text, we talk, and she’s super sweet, she wasn’t really on no advice. She asks, “What’s going on? How are you?” She was kind when I brought my friends around. She’s cool.
What was your first contact with fashion? How would you describe your style’s evolution?
My parents for sure. They both dressed really well when I was younger. My mum has shoes and bags that date back to 1991; she still has the original Fendi baguette, a lot of early Dior, all of that is still in her closet. My parents have always dressed well, taken good care of themselves and have evolved with the times. Obviously, their fashion now is geared better towards their age. In the 90s, early 80s, they were fashion killers, for sure. 
Speaking of your parents, you shared your mum said, “When you’re working with others, always be kind and polite” and that’s what shaped how you move in the world where you try to create fair, just environments. What do these environments consist of? Does it get harder to be kind when you’re constantly under pressure and in fast-paced working dynamics? 
No, it does not get harder. I am the boss of my life. I’m the boss of my team. I dictate the pace, but I also dictate the mood of a space. I try to always remain in high spirits, but I have very strong boundaries. If somebody does something that I don’t like, I don’t yell. I tell them directly, you did this, I don’t like it. I would like for you to change. I try to keep the floor open for people to be able to talk to me about their feelings as well, if I do something that they don’t like. I always make sure to say thank you at the end of a day, at the end of a show, you know, so people feel appreciated. If you f around, you’re gonna get it from me. I’m not gonna beat you up. I will read you nicely, and I will tell you my mind. Doing that helps weed out the bad apples too. Right now, I don’t work with anybody that I don’t like or respect or whose company I don’t enjoy. 
“We’re nothing without community. We need to be kinder to each other.”
How does kindness extend itself into your day-to-day life? How are you kind to yourself?  
Self-care. As soon as I got back from my New York show, I went and got a nice sauna, a drip, I got a glutamine boost. I’ve been sleeping my ass off. I’ve been cooking my own meals. I’ve been watching “Real Housewives.” I’m taking care of myself and enjoying my days. It’s very rare that I get to rest and stay at home. 
What’s your comfort meal? 
It’s a meal in Ghana called waakye. It’s rice and beans, they fry spaghetti in a little bit of oil and put that on top. We have this cornmeal thing called gari. You put that on top. You do a side of egg, avocado, a piece of fish, a piece of goat meat, some side of plantain. Excellent.
I imagine you spend a lot of hours with yourself and your thoughts in the studio and at home. What have you learnt about yourself in these moments? 
That’s a good question. What I’ve learned is that there are characters within me that don’t exist in my everyday life, that I like to play in the music. Those characters find an outlet because they’re buried underneath a cool, calm exterior. I’ve learned that I’m actually a bit of a fucking nut job. That comes out only with people that I’m very, very close to, or in the music. What I’m starting to learn about myself is that I’m a little crazy.
All the best artists are a bit crazy though, right? 
For sure. All of my favourite artists are crazy, that’s facts. Nicki Minaj has maybe nine different characters. I was watching a bunch of her videos the other day, and I realised in all of her videos, she plays two different characters, so she’ll show up in one wig, then she’ll show up in another or in a whole different outfit. Man, that’s one of my favourite rappers of all time, one of the greatest rappers of all time. 
She’s definitely crazy on Twitter right now. 
Yeah. I want to say on record, my goat is going through some things right now, I hope that we can give her the grace and the peace that she deserves as she sorts through. What we cannot do is deny her incredible contribution to legacy, her impact on pop culture, on Black culture, to Black culture, to pop music, to rap music though. One of the greatest to ever touch a mic, that cannot be denied. Top five dead or alive, male or female.
You’ve stated “artists and celebrities shouldn’t be on social media. Or they should have their social media managed by their teams,” as a critique on surveillance culture and constantly being under the microscope. I wonder to what extent you run your own social media as I saw you doing a lot of content at Maiden Voyage backstage for example. Have you felt that magnifying glass zoom in on you further as you’ve become a more mainstream global icon? 
Girl, I really be talking about Twitter. I’ve learned to keep my mouth S, H, U, T on Twitter because I’ve been dragged. I get dragged at least four times a year for some type of tweet. I’ve got dragged enough now I keep my thoughts to myself. On social media you can’t joke anymore. The smallest thing you might say, you expect people to laugh, and they’re gonna say you have pebbles for brains. That’s actually something I’ve read, like, okay, never mind. This joke didn’t go as well as I would have hoped. Cool.
Having a massive platform, do you sometimes struggle to navigate how to talk about politics? Do you feel restricted? 
Hell no. Things just are as they are. You have to say it as it is. I see a lot of artists slowly coming to realise how much power and influence they have. Speaking for what they believe in, speaking against what they don’t believe in. Different people have different opinions, thoughts and beliefs based on how they were raised, at times you have to do nothing but respectfully agree to disagree. But I’m not afraid to speak for what I believe in. 
Correct me if I’m wrong, but the iconography of the black star in the Ghanaian flag is very pan-African. I see you assuming the place of that black star as a form of symbolising the sense of fostering community you bring with the album and the genres it weaves in. By building collective consciousness through dance music to unify people against oppressive political structures, would you say the project is pan-African in that sense? 
Whew…
Sorry I know it’s still early in the morning in LA.
No, no it’s a good question. All of my music is pan-African, all of my music is about global connection because it dabbles in so many different sounds, cultures, energies. What I always try to do is bring it back to Africa, bring it back to the diaspora and the Black community. With “Black Star” I think about all the different types of Ghanaian music that I tapped into, going to Central Africa and tapping into zouk or bacardi from South Africa. Detroit club, Chicago house, baile funk, traditional African music that’s found in Salvador, all of these sounds, textures and sonics come alive in my music. It’s about teaching my culture and my people we are all one; all of our patterns and all our rhythms are intrinsically the same. The fact that a song like “S.M.O.” is able to exist and it’s Detroit club, it’s highlife, it’s zouk, it’s bacardi all at the same time is probably the biggest way to show exactly how connected and united we are in our sonic palette as Black people and as Africans.
Another layer to that collective oppression has to do with queer identity. Our rights are questioned, debated and even opposed, while we can struggle with external and internal acceptance. Has music been a way to navigate this for you?
In a way. I’ve always used music to elevate and uplift undermined communities and societies. I started by doing that in Ghana. I’ve been vocal about, especially from my visual perspective, how I’ve challenged again and again and again the norm of sensuality and sexuality, the norm of relationship dynamics in my visuals, as well as in my music. 
Dance music is inevitably queer, and on “Black Star” you come at it from the idea of bringing people together in an energetic fun way. However, with conservatism on the rise and rollbacks, including an anti LGBTQ+ bill passed in Ghana last year, do you believe people might struggle to connect with such a light-hearted project as this one? 
Not at all. What people need more than anything is light in their lives, lightness and music that brings not only a sense of community, but a sense of interconnectedness. That goes back to your question of fusion, we’re all one, we’re all a common people. We’re all going through a common struggle. For as long as I can remember, music has been the medium for messages for political change for community. Dancing has been a form of therapy and expression, so in my offering, it’s to help move culture forward. It’s also to help move my agenda of peace, kindness and happiness forward in comparison to some of the other content that we’re being exposed to whether it’s music or visuals or art or politics. I think that anything that I do is in the best interest of the community.
What’s the kindest thing someone’s ever done for you?
I feel like I receive acts of kindness every day. The smallest thing is kind. Saying hello on the street is kind, saying hello in the morning is kind. Someone helped me put on my shoes the other day, I thought it was such a loving gesture. Offering or being in service in that way seems to be a small gesture, but there’s kindness in it. I care how I can be more of service to others, I have a lot of respect for people who get joy from that. 
Is there a moment in your life where choosing tenderness over anger or detachment changed everything?
Tenderness is such a disarming emotion. If someone is coming at you upset or angry and you immediately soften up, they become disarmed, they become surprised. Either they’ll match your energy and calm down, or they’ll get angrier because they can’t get a rise out of you. Mastering that skill in a moment of pressure is a Jedi mind trick. You have to mean it from your heart. You can’t try to weaponize it, as if I’m going to kill you with kindness. The intention with which it’s used is very important. 
Following “Fountain Baby,” did you feel as if you had to prove yourself even further or had to match expectations that you or outsiders might have set? 
No. What I knew was that I didn’t need to make another “Fountain Baby,” I needed to explore other parts of my interests or of myself for better or for worse. I wanted to help people understand for the third time in a row you cannot put me in a box whether you like it or not, you should learn to expect the unexpected.
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Dress, belt and bag DSQUARED2, necklace ROMANTIKA, multi-finger ring BROQ, leg warmers OTTOLINGER, shoes SERGIO ROSSI.
After reaching this level of mainstream success, is there anything that you miss from being a smaller artist?
I wouldn’t call myself mainstream. I don’t feel mainstream. 
I’m talking from my surroundings and the musical circles I’m in. 
Oh period! You’re talking from the queer experience. You know what? That is true. That’s hilarious. I would say no, I do not miss being a smaller artist, because this is what I prayed for. It feels good to know that whether people receive your music well or not, they care enough to listen, they care enough to think about it, to talk about it. That makes me feel satisfied in my artistic endeavours and it drives me to want to continue to create, so that I can continue to tell people stories, challenge people’s thoughts, consolidate ideas and bring communities together. I love having a platform and I hope that it gets bigger and bigger so I can do more and more with it. 
Outside the gays. 
Yeah. You know what? I will always live and die for the gays because I feel you got me here. So, fuck it. We ball. 
As a diasporic Ghanaian artist, do you see representation as a burden? Does representation put an added pressure on your artistry?
No, I feel emboldened, I feel free because being an African actually makes it so much more fun to go against the grain. There were a lot of people that told me if I made the kind of music that I’m making now or I’ve been making, I would never break out. Guess what, motherfuckers? I’m outside with it. What that does is it gives other young artists coming up an idea of a blueprint, a road to follow. You don’t need to listen to anybody but yourself, tell your own unique story. I’m a prime example of that, I’m so glad I didn’t listen to anybody telling me nothing about nothing. I did what I believed in and followed my visions.
You went from having almost no collaborators on “Fountain Baby” to having Bree Runway, PinkPantheress, Naomi Campbell and Charlie Wilson in the same album. Iconic. How did these come about? 
Charlie Wilson is perhaps next to Ronald Isley, one of the greatest, most lasting voices of a time. He has an iconic voice, I needed to get in with the OG while he is still here and living. He’s the soundtrack to many Black gatherings and many Black celebrations of community. Naomi Campbell is the Black star, the greatest supermodel on earth so it was only right, it made sense. PinkPantheress is one of the most forward-thinking songwriters and producers of our time. Bree Runway is an iconic dark-skinned diva that definitely has mainstream pop appeal and potential, she is a great artist, great writer, great producer. These are people that I’ve always wanted to work with and have a lot of respect for. I don’t just collaborate with anyone, I only collaborate with artists that I like and respect; so for me, this was the perfect thing to do going from no features to if I’m gonna have features, I’m going to have people that fifty years from now, you guys are gonna look back and this is going to be an album that had quality artists who have built legacies for generations.
Aside from your collaborators, who are your Black stars? 
Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson, Missy Elliott and Beyoncé Knowles of course.  
You’ve called yourself a curator first. Curation has become a buzzword to do something fancy and it has sort of diluted what it is as an art form. It feels as if the process of looking for inspiration for an album doesn’t go that beyond a Pinterest board for some. What was it like bringing the ideas together for “Black Star” as a process? 
So, when I say a curator, I mean a musical curator. 
Nonetheless, you had a lot of creative input in the albums. 
When I talk about curation, I talk about it from a production standpoint. I’m not the best singer in the world by any means, but I’ve been able to create a sonic palette that is good for my voice, allows me to work within my parameters and make great music, which is a difficult thing to achieve. Being a producer, what’s tasteful to my ear and intriguing to listen or inspiring, I’m not necessarily recreating them just understanding how they were made and applying those processes to my process as well. 
“Black Star” reminded me of Theodora’s album “Mega BBL.” because you both weave threads from African sounds and Black origins of dance music in a way where you synthesise your cultures in unique and fresh ways. The same way reggaeton and Brazilian funk went from niche genres to global mainstream success; do you see the same trajectory for these sounds? 
I see a lot of young Africans weaving more different types of music from other African regions. One of my favourite artists from Africa is called brazy. She was probably the first to get into the concept and the idea of club music in the African context. That was the first artist that I heard doing a lot of loops with her vocals. She’s the first that I heard mixing amapiano with zouk and leaning into the concept of dance music. Since then, I’ve seen it take over and seep into music that other people are making as you mentioned, Theodora and so many others. That amalgamation of all the different types of African rhythms are starting to make a new debut and be used in different ways. I can see that being the next lead sound for Africa. It doesn’t go without crediting brazy for being the first to do that, on inspiration, that’s who. 
Lastly, where do you see yourself in a few years’ time?
With lots of millions and the choice to make music when I feel, not necessarily leaning on it as hard as a livelihood. I wanna act, I wanna make furniture, I wanna create a magazine, I wanna teach, I wanna make scores for films and animated films. I really wanna have a family. That’s what I want for the future, to be well off enough so that I can build a family and continue to build my dream life. 
Hopefully we’ll have a lot of Amaarae everywhere for the rest of time. 
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Full look BALENCIAGA.
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Full look PROTOTYPES.
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Full look PROTOTYPES.
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Coat ANOESES, top IOANNES, layered top and shorts ENTIRE STUDIOS, boots DIESEL.