Genesis Owusu is not interested in escapism. On his new single “HUMAN AGAIN”, the Ghanaian Australian artist confronts apathy, misinformation and the strange emotional numbness of living through a world that constantly feels like it is on fire. The track arrives in the wake of his acclaimed third album, REDSTAR WU & THE WORLDWIDE SCOURGE, a record built on urgency, tension and a refusal to look away.
For Owusu, apathy is not simply a feeling. It is “the first and biggest obstacle to progress.” Across REDSTAR WU & THE WORLDWIDE SCOURGE, he turns that awareness into something restless and electric, pulling together paranoia, rage, melancholy and movement. The result is music that feels both deeply personal and globally charged, reflecting the anxieties of the 2020s while still reaching for community, dignity and release.
With “HUMAN AGAIN”, that conflict sharpens. The song is danceable, but never carefree. Beneath its glitching, frantic energy sits what Owusu describes as “a very quiet and inescapable melancholy,” a reminder that the problem does not disappear just because we decide not to look at it. Pleasure, in his world, is not the enemy. It is part of what people are fighting for: the right to live with love, freedom, security and joy.
In conversation with House of Solo, Genesis Owusu reflects on the hollowness of escapism, the importance of saying the truth out loud, the global world of Redstar Wu, and why, in a time of crisis, music can still remind people that they are not alone.
Your new single “HUMAN AGAIN” explores apathy in the digital age. What was happening internally when that idea first began to take shape for you?
I was just looking around at the world on fire and wondering why it seemed like lots of people didn’t really give a fuck. Then I realised that, for a lot of people, they didn’t really have the capacity to give a fuck anymore. They were beaten down and bombarded until the well ran dry. But that same apathy is now the first and biggest obstacle to progress. Apathy is a grave.
You describe misinformation and global gaslighting as “brain-frying.” How do you personally protect your sense of clarity in a world that feels increasingly distorted?
I learned to trust my eyes.
The song suggests that hedonism can become a way of trying to feel human again. Do you see partying, escape and pleasure as survival tools, or as distractions from the deeper fight?
They can absolutely be a distraction and a way to pull the wool over your eyes. I think that they can help people cope, but not necessarily in a healthy way. Me, I’m not an escapist; if I have a problem, I want to headbutt that shit. I do think that the partying and pleasure is an end goal, though. We’re not fighting for the sake of fighting; we’re fighting for everyone to be able to live a life of dignity, love, pleasure and security.
Sonically, “HUMAN AGAIN” feels frantic, glitching and almost unstable. How did you want the production to reflect the emotional and political tension behind the song?
As I said, I’m not an escapist, so I wanted the song to feel like what escape feels like to me. It’s dancey and catchy, but there’s also a very quiet and inescapable melancholy etched deeply into the track. To me, that speaks to the hollowness of escapism. The problem doesn’t go away because you decide not to look at it.
The video is described as a baroque fever dream colliding with modern European streets. What visual world were you trying to build around the track?
In this current chapter of REDSTAR WU & THE WORLDWIDE SCOURGE, it was important to try to highlight that the things I’m speaking about are global; that’s why I shot my videos in Australia, Ghana and France. And not only do they transcend borders, but generations too. In the past, the French had their own tyrannical, out-of-touch aristocracy. Let them eat cake. Through the will of the people, those rulers were ousted. As we live in modernity with our suits and ties, we may be reminded that we still have kings lording over us, though they may have a different uniform. Will history repeat?
REDSTAR WU & THE WORLDWIDE SCOURGE has been called an exposed state-of-the-day record. What did you want this album to reveal about the world we are living in right now?
I don’t think it should reveal anything that anyone doesn’t already know. I think most people are already aware of the world we’re living in; someone just needs to say it out loud. Say the words. The truth can’t thrive under hushed tongues. That’s what this album is. Just a megaphone.
Your work often balances chaos and beauty, anger and hope. How conscious are you of that contrast when you are writing?
I’m conscious of it, but it’s not something I have to consciously strive for when I write. When you write honestly about life, those are the things your writing should naturally encompass, as that’s what life is. An ugly, beautiful, little angry mishmash.
The album feels both deeply personal and global in scope. How do you find your own place within larger conversations about division, power and humanity?
I can only speak for myself and I only ever do. However, when I do, it always seems to resonate with a large number of people. I am a citizen of planet Earth, and when I speak my truth to my feelings about division, power and humanity, I tend to speak the truth of a lot of other people as well. My place is your place, is his place, is her place.
You have always moved between genres with confidence. For this record, what sounds or textures felt essential to telling the story properly?
I wanted sounds that created angst and tension throughout the album, like something was going to boil over at any moment. I wanted sounds that sounded how paranoia feels, as I think all of those things are indicative of the experience of living life in the 2020s. But I also wanted a driving energy throughout the record because, more than anything, this album is supposed to be a battery in the back of everyone who listens; a sonic energiser to help you face the world every day.
The character of Redstar Wu feels cinematic and mythic. How does creating an alter ego or universe help you say things that might be harder to express directly?
In my previous albums, I created characters, worlds and metaphors to creatively say the things that I wanted to say. For this album, the world is planet Earth, and Redstar Wu is just an alias, not a character. It’s just me. There was no time to obfuscate things with metaphor, and no time to be afraid of expressing things directly. Elon’s a fuckin’ weirdo.
Reviews have described the album as urgent, maximalist and ambitious. Do you feel pressure when each project is expected to push your artistry further?
Every project should push my artistry further. That’s a mission I give to myself. When I was a child, I gave myself the mission of being a lifelong student and a lifelong pusher of boundaries, so to cower in any kind of stagnation would be a betrayal of self. When it comes to the outside voices, though, that’s a different story. I will continue to push myself, but maybe not in the direction that people may want or expect.
Your catalogue has already earned major acclaim, awards and a global audience. At this stage, what does artistic success mean to you?
To me, artistic success is having the means to live comfortably off the art that is authentic to me. That is my personal definition of success, and I really urge every artist, and person, to figure out their own personal definition and avoid being caught up in someone else’s.
You recently performed sold-out shows in London and Paris, alongside major festival appearances. How has the live reaction changed your relationship with this album?
It hasn’t changed my relationship with the album as much as it has vindicated it. This album was for the people; for the community. And the community has taken it and truly resonated with it, which is all that I could hope for.
You are heading into UK and European dates later this year. What kind of experience do you want audiences to walk away with after seeing Redstar Wu’s Pirate Radio live?
I hope they walk away with a sweaty shirt, an invigorated spirit and a new community.
Looking at “HUMAN AGAIN”, what do you hope listeners feel after the first listen: anger, release, hope, or something more complicated?
I want them to dance, then think.
In a time when people can feel numb to crisis, what role do you think music can play in making people care again?
Someone simply knowing that they’re not alone can make a big difference in that person’s life.
When you say “keep fighting, kicking and screaming so the party doesn’t die,” what does that message mean to you now?
It seems like, at this point in time, everything good has to be fought for, even the planet itself. Don’t lose.
