Ama’s never cared for mystery. So after a two-year hiatus, the London singer-songwriter and fashion-world darling made herself one promise on the way back to the studio: no more pretending.
It started with a Rolex in cult crime-thriller Goodfellas. A flash of gold on Ray Liotta’s wrist, a chopper whirring overhead, paranoia peaking – that was the moment something clicked for Ama.
“I became obsessed with getting that watch,” she says, laughing but not joking. “I think I started seeing my style and interest come from film.”
But it wasn’t just the glint of luxury or Scorsese’s iconic imagery. It was the detail. The texture. The world-building. The sense that art could live in the specifics.
That obsession has shaped everything Ama does – from the songs she writes, to the music videos she directs, to the exact cut of knitwear she wore in her early press shots.
No surprise she’s got an eye. In fashion, too, Ama has become one of the industry’s finer details – a muse to Louis Vuitton, Loewe, Salomon, and Chanel.
Raised in a creative household in London’s Stoke Newington, her Guyanese father a guitarist, her English mother a makeup artist, her sister Mahalia a video director – Ama grew up steeped in rhythm and influence. But from the beginning, she made one thing clear: she would carve her own lane.
She taught herself to play guitar before she was ten, and by thirteen, she was sneaking into London’s open mic nights. Her dad was so impressed by her songwriting, he mistook one of her early experiments for a new Rihanna release. At 18, she left for New York just three days after finishing school, with no plan and nowhere to stay – only the desire to make music on her own terms.
From later 2019 to 2021, she dropped independently made EPs like “AT LEAST WE HAVE THIS” and “Ama, who?”, establishing herself as a genre-fluid force unafraid of sonic pivots and emotional sharpness. “I veered towards alternative music because you can be a bit random. I mixed genres and added beat switches, which [at the time] didn’t feel right for pop.”
Her visuals followed suit – cinematic, self-directed, and always tethered to feeling. For her 2021 breakout EP “DDD”, she wrote, directed, and starred in a 13-minute visual (shot by her sister) that further cemented her creative control – and her refusal to separate the music from the visual language around it. The project landed her as a muse for Drake’s chart-topping album Scorpion, and on tour supporting Jorja Smith.
That same mindset still drives her, especially when it comes to visuals. “I’ve always had a bit of a control thing,” she says – not as an apology, but as a fact. Directing is just another extension of her creativity, another way of staying close to the tone and texture of the work. Whether it’s grainy camera footage or a lingering frame, it has to feel like her. “I get a buzz from being across the whole thing,” she says. “If I can picture it, I want to make it real.”
That directness – part instinct, part defiance – has been with her from the beginning.“I don’t think my parents had a wish for me to do anything,” she says candidly. “I’ve always had a loose screw when it comes to fear.”
When I ask if she’s always been a risk-taker, her manager smiles to herself. Ama laughs. “There’s something wired in my brain where I’m just not scared of things. I’ll have an idea and everyone looks at me like it’s insane – and I’m like, what do you mean? We can 100% do it. That mindset has become my driving force. I don’t give up, and I don’t believe anyone can tell me no.”
That rebellious spirit often gets her in trouble. For her latest music video, “My Girl” – her first single in two years – her team were already bracing for notes. “As I was approaching this new set of music, I had people close to me in my team say: Ama, you’re doing too much, honey. You can’t do everything.”
But she did it anyway. The treatment got the green light. The edit, not so much. “It was the worst music video I’d ever seen,” she says. “I thought, I’m not going to jeopardise everything I worked for. I’ll pay for it all myself if I have to.”
Where most would scrap it, Ama took the footage, sent it to her own editor, and reworked the whole thing in two days. “I cut loads of scenes, and in two days we managed to make the final product you all saw – it represented me in the best way possible.”
A far cry from her past of curated characters and cinematic storylines, the video is honest and upfront – two things Ama had always aimed for. Her earlier visuals, particularly for her EP DDD were essentially short films: one video, for the EP’s title track for example, saw Ama embedded in a Los Angeles crime ring, navigating the chaotic adventures that the city has to offer her — all over the course of one day.
“I didn’t want to hide behind a storyline I made up,” she tells me. This new era, for her, is all about being “direct and to the point.” Ama, laid bare.
The raw honesty in “My Girl” isn’t just a one-off – it’s the foundation of her upcoming album (title and release date still under wraps). “Now that I’m actually showing up as myself, doing interviews, letting people see me, the music can finally be what it was always supposed to be.”
That clarity has brought a shedding: of over-curation, of expectations, and even of her name. Where she once released music as Ama Lou, she now simply goes by Ama. “This album is about being super upfront and honest,” she says of the upcoming project, set to be released under record labels, PULSE Records and Brent Faiyaz’s, ISO Supremacy. Where her earlier work flirted with persona, this album feels like a reckoning.
“I’ve always had a lot in the tank,” she says, smiling. Now, she’s revving the engine all the way up.
Photography by ROSALINE SHAHNAVAZ
Styling by Lyla Cheng
Words by Isabella Guarnieri
Hair by Craig Taylour at One Represents
Make-up by Martha Inoue using Chanel Beauty CHANEL Les Beiges Golden Hour Make-up Collection and No.1 de CHANEL Body Serum-In-Mist
Photography Assistant Jem Rigby
Fashion Assistants Kian Kiasaleh, Lara Sandres
Videography by Lauren Austin
Special Thanks to Monday Artists
