Amaarae wants you to see her sweat. Fountain Baby took things global, blowing up her sound so that it might encompass a Japanese koto on one track and a sample of Clipse’s “Wamp Wamp (What It Do)” the next. Black Star is the record you make when you can finally afford the best drugs and the suite with a view, lavish them on a lover (or several), and begin to ask yourself: Is this all there is? Following the release of Fountain Baby, Amaarae visited the nightlife scenes of Miami, Los Angeles, and São Paulo, studied up on Chicago house and Detroit ghettotech, and dove deeper into Ghana’s regional microgenres. Unbeholden to any one place, Black Star carves out its own sovereign territory on the dancefloor; call it “CzechSlovakAtlanta,” as declared by Bree Runway amid the laser-pistol crossfire of “Starkilla.” Amaarae’s ambition—a survey of the Black diaspora that uniformly bangs—aligns with and maybe even surpasses that of Beyoncé’s Renaissance, but her approach is far less didactic.