Last September, Genesis Owusu road-tested material from his then-untitled third album at three intimate gigs at Sydney Opera House. Performing in the round for adoring fans, he radiated the confidence of an artist sharing music he deeply believes in. What made the new songs so arresting were the contrasts – snarling punk intermingling with neosoul and dexterous hip-hop – all grounded in Kofi Owusu-Ansah’s magnetic charisma. Even then, months before the album’s release, it was clear the next era of the Ghanaian Australian artist would be something special.

Now titled Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge, Genesis Owusu’s third album arrives with significant expectation after its predecessors – 2021’s Smiling With No Teeth and 2023’s Struggler – rode waves of acclaim and went on to win the Aria album of the year. Following the dense symbolism of those records, with their vivid imagery of black dogs and the unkillable roach, Genesis Owusu has made clear his latest exists “very much on planet Earth in the 2020s”.

That intention is immediately evident in the album’s first trio of singles, Pirate Radio, Stampede and Death Cult Zombie, all of which seethe with righteous anger while also serving as get-the-pit-going anthems. Across the three tracks, Owusu-Ansah skewers billionaires, “alt-right” hucksters and casual and flagrant racism with equal parts vehemence and wit. Yet it’s the dancey fourth single, Life Keeps Going – one of his sharpest earworms to date, accompanied by a stunning video shot during his first creative trip to Ghana last year – that most strongly hints at the genre-hopping found across the album’s track list.

Beyond the singles, the depth of feeling across Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge makes a strong case for the durability of the album format. After the opening salvo of Pirate Radio and Stampede, the record exhales into the sleazy, richly textured funk of Hellstar, with a rakish performance by Owusu-Ansah alongside a brief turn from US rapper Duckwrth. From there it swings into the woozily romantic Falling Both Ways, featuring New Zealand indie-pop artist Ladyhawke, before the fiercely locked-in The Worldwide Scourge, where Owusu-Ansah raps urgently over a lurching beat about a world in collapse. With lyrics such as “How dare they pillage Gaza and still have the nerve to sleep at night”, the track stands as a central statement of Owusu-Ansah’s Redstar Wu alias, which he describes as “me seeing the world as it is”.

In the second half, the album turns inward: Situations is a softly thrummed rumination, with Owusu-Ansah’s voice close and warm in the mix, while the pacy, charismatic Runnin Outta Time and the serene One4All bring the album full circle, from its venomous opening to a softer landing.

The dialled-in fervour of Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge is no accident. While Struggler was made in the blur of global touring, its follow-up came together in a converted church in Wales with Owusu-Ansah’s collaborator, producer and songwriter Dann Hume. The intimacy of the setting is felt in the tightly wound propulsion and intricate detail of the production. Alongside the punky scuzz, the album carries a notable electronic undercurrent, including on the dreamily inorganic 4Life and late-album standout Big Dog, whose waves of synth and squirrelly bass wouldn’t be out of place on an Underworld record. Vocally, Owusu-Ansah sounds alternately more relaxed and more hard-charging than ever, whether in the luxurious crooning of Blessed Are the Meek, the chanting vitriol of Most Normal American Voter, or the breathless, throaty barks of Pirate Radio.

Much has been made of Owusu-Ansah’s possible inspirations since he achieved mainstream fame, from Childish Gambino and Prince to Bloc Party. “Sometimes they’re pinning major influences on me that I’ve never heard of in my life,” he said in 2022. As his best and most complete album to date, Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge emphasises not so much his influences but his uniqueness within Australian music, channelling his lived experiences as a Black artist into unabashedly political songs that remain open, accessible and outright fun.

Some listeners may find the 2020s-ness of the album, with its whip-crack references to Gaza, Andrew Tate and the “Orange Man”, claustrophobic or even exhausting. But for all its engagement with the unease of the present moment, the album is also a reminder that art – especially this raw and human – is itself a source of hope.

• Redstar Wu & The Worldwide Scourge is out now