There’s resilience, and then there’s Ayra Starr.

Two weeks before the release of her new album, Starrgirl, the Nigerian singer posted a photo from hospital, after undergoing “major surgery”.

“I was hoping it would be a quick recovery, but it was more complicated than they expected,” she told fans, without disclosing the nature of the procedure.

Within seven days, she was back in the dance studio, rehearsing for forthcoming performances with a large bandage strapped across her stomach. TV appearances, fan events and live performances followed.

“I’m healing,” she told the US breakfast TV show, Today. “I have strength today. I’m so happy I was able to even be here today and be able to do this.”

It’s a display of the tenacity and ambition that’s defined Starr’s career to date.

Discovered singing covers on YouTube at the age of 18, she became the first African woman to win best international act at the Mobo Awards, and the first Nigerian woman to surpass one billion video views on YouTube.

In 2024, she was the first Afrobeats artist to play Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage – and finished her set by declaring she’d return as a headliner. Last year, she modelled for Di Petsa at London Fashion Week, closing their show in a white lace two-piece, flanked by an angel.

So it’s hardly a surprise that Starr pitches up to our interview with a sort of celestial confidence. She’s given to grand proclamations like “I’m unstoppable”, or “I will exist in multitudes”. But somehow, she never sounds arrogant or conceited.

That’s probably due to a sense of humour so dry it could soak up a tsunami. Starr is criminally sarcastic, and delights in winding people up.

For example: When music legend Stevie Wonder phoned to congratulate Starr on a Grammy nomination, she goaded him into a playful argument about zodiac signs.

“I was trying to one-up him every single time, and he was trying to one-up me. It was almost like a battle,” she recalls.

Starr eventually got to the point where she told Wonder, a Taurus, that “Tauruses ain’t crap”.

“I’m sure he was like, ‘Who is this? What do you want from me?’ But it was a very cute conversation. I respect it.”

It’s an unorthodox approach to making friends, but it seems to work.

Over the course of her career, Starr’s hooked up with Coldplay, Tyla, David Guetta, Le Sserafim and Kelly Rowland from Destiny’s Child.

Her new album boasts collaborations with Afrobeats legends Wizkid and Rema, as well as One Direction’s Zayn Malik and rising R&B singer KWN.

The album is her first under a new management deal with Jay-Z’s Roc Nation, and a relocation to New York. Leaving Lagos was a big upheaval, she confessed in an essay posted to her Substack last year.

“New York is basically a walk-in freezer with rent,” she wrote. “It’s so cold it feels like the city is actively trying to unalive my motivation… I’m not scared, I promise.”

Behind the move was a desire to explore new influences and expand her sound. So you get a track like Where Do We Go, which marries a sashaying Afrobeats rhythm to a hypnotic electronic pulse.

“Like, the rebel I am, I love to juxtapose,” she says.

“I don’t like being normal and boring. So the idea of writing a heartbreak song on a beat like that, where you can dance to it, was just very enticing. I love things like that.”

The lyrics were inspired by a secretive relationship “that was stuck in a rut but I kept coming back to it”.

We’ve all been there. It’s all too easy to settle for an imperfect partner because they’re a comfortable and familiar presence.

Starr admits the thought of starting over with someone else filled her with fear.

“You’re back to square one, and somebody’s asking for your favourite colour again.

“I’m like, ‘Oh my God! Can we, like, not do that?'”

The problem with staying in the relationship, however, was the way it affected the rest of her life.

“You keep accepting things lower than your standard, and that influences every single thing in your life – because when you let yourself go, romantically and emotionally, it affects you physically, and the music, and all of that.

“So even though I enjoyed [the romance] while it lasted, I picked my priorities and what was most important to me. And that relationship wasn’t as important as the music… or anything else.”

The story could act as a metaphor for the entire album. After the runaway success of her breakout single, Rush, and her second album, The Year I Turned 21, Starr was beginning to feel trapped by other people’s expectations.

“Just like any other pop artist, passive listeners get attached to the songs they know – the popular songs.

“Then you’re stuck between creating for the passive listeners and creating for your core fans who want you to do more.

“So that can limit you, because you stop thinking as an artist and start thinking about making music just for consumers.

“But I’m not meant to conform. It’s just not who I am. I will rebel against every single preconception and every stereotype.”

So she’s ditched the teenage angst of her debut, but also the poise of its follow-up. This is an album about walking to her own rhythm, as Starr grows into autonomy and womanhood.

On Misunderstood, she laughs at the people who told her she’d “never make it on her own”; while the laid back groove of Treasure allows Starr to pause and savour her success.

“Give me some fun / Pure enjoyment / Take a photo of me,” she sings in Yoraba.

The most infectious song on the album is Ms Paper, which takes a detour into Bouyon – a Dominican music characterised by high tempos and frantic percussion. It was recorded almost by accident at the end of a session with French-Congolese star Theodora on a hot and sticky February night in LA.

They’d actually finished working for the day, and had just polished off a boozy dinner of Congolese food when inspiration struck.

“The AC in the studio wasn’t working, so everybody’s delirious, everybody’s sweating, everybody’s drunk,” Starr says.

“At one point we’re probably taking off tops. I changed outfit twice because I was drenched in sweat.”

It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but when you play it back, you can practically see the steam rising from your speakers.

Live snippets of the song have already gone viral, suggesting Starr has another hefty hit on her hands. At the same time, she’s faced criticism in Nigeria from people who feel she’s diluting her musical heritage by chasing a more global sound

“People have a certain template they think I should follow, and it’s like, you cannot tell me how to dream,” she says.

“I’m able to honour my culture, but also try new things, because that’s who I am.”

Starr answers her critics, in a roundabout way, on her album cover – where she pairs a club-ready gold dress with a traditional gele headwrap.

“I wanted young girls in Kwara State or Erin-Ile to see this and feel represented,” she told Capital Xtra.

“I’m not the first to do it, I won’t be the last to do it – but I want people to feel confident in their culture and wear [the gele] like the crown that it is.”

Not for the first time, her instincts proved right. Starr’s stunning, retro-futuristic look has gone viral, inspiring dozens of copycats, and tempering at least some of the criticism of her new direction.

As she says in her new song, Amazing: “If they’re gonna talk, I’ll give them something to talk about“.

“That’s definitely my mantra,” she says.

“And do you know what? I think I need to listen to myself more because I have all the answers in my music.”