Son Kuma & Clarissa Carter Turn Desire Into a Thesis Statement on “Power”

Son Kuma has been building an album like a scientist mapping emotion onto physics, and “Power” feels like the experiment finally catching fire. His collaboration with Clarissa Carter isn’t just another R&B duet; it’s the thesis statement of Keep That Energy, where equations about labor and love collapse into one undeniable truth: desire has gravity.

The production glides in smoothly but is charged. Kuma self-produces with a precision that reflects his physics brain without sacrificing feel. The beat pulses like a steady heartbeat under neon lights, silky synths sliding across the mix while the low end hums with late-night tension. It soothes and stimulates at the same time. You’re floating, but you’re locked in.

Kuma’s cadence is rhythmic and grounded, a conversational flow that sounds like someone thinking out loud about priorities he’s been dodging. His voice sits in the pocket, calm but intentional, while Clarissa Carter arrives like a voltage spike. Her tone is glossy and haunting, wrapping the hook in a kind of hypnotic clarity. When they declare the song’s central mantra, it lands less like shock value and more like reclamation, a reframing of intimacy as power, not distraction.

What makes “Power” hit harder is the context around it. This is the sequel to Are We Working Enough?, a project obsessed with overwork and the illusion of productivity as love. Here, Kuma flips the formula. The quote “Spend it on you now… I’ve been working overtime and afterhours” reads like a confession from someone realizing success without presence is hollow. The track becomes rehabilitation for a workaholic mindset, arguing that devotion to a partner is as vital as devotion to ambition.

Clarissa Carter’s genre-blurring instincts add cinematic depth. Her background in electronic soul and dark pop bleeds into the atmosphere, making the chorus feel widescreen and intimate all at once. It’s seductive, but there’s intelligence underneath the sensuality, a meditation on where energy actually belongs.

“Power” isn’t just a slow-burning R&B record. It’s a philosophical pivot disguised as a late-night anthem. Kuma and Carter turn pleasure into protest against burnout, and in doing so, they make one of the most conceptually sharp love songs in recent memory.

Your album frames love and labor like a physics equation. If relationships had a measurable unit, what do you think most people are overdosing on right now: time, effort, or ego?

Son Kuma: In my view, happiness in a relationship is directly proportional to the time and effort invested in it. It would be easy to say that a relationship's success is inversely proportional to ego, but it’s more nuanced than that. A fulfilled sense of self can sometimes be necessary to pour love into someone else. The issue isn’t ego alone; it’s imbalance. When the ego becomes either overindulgent or rooted in personal dissatisfaction, it distorts the equation. Instead of fueling intimacy, it competes with it. That’s where most relationships fracture.

“Power” flips the idea that intimacy distracts from success. Do you think hustle culture secretly trains people to fear softness, especially in relationships?

Son Kuma: I think hustle culture subtly rewards Machiavellian thinking. It frames the world as something to conquer, optimize, and control. In that framework, softness can feel like a weakness. While I was composing “Power,” I had an uncomfortable conversation with a friend who deeply wanted companionship but believed he needed more money, status, and leverage before he could find the ideal partner. That mindset is common. It treats power as something you accumulate to attract love. But I see power differently. There’s the kind of power rooted in control, and then there’s power as an energy supply. In my worldview, the right partner doesn’t distract from your mission; they amplify it. They supply inspiration and perspective, and together, you generate a greater impact than either person could alone.

Clarissa Carter: I do believe hustle culture discourages true intimacy, but this ends up yielding negative results. I actually believe that intimacy enhances success; it doesn’t distract from it. Whether it’s friendship, community, or romantic connection, intimacy creates a sense of belonging that fuels ambition rather than diminishes it. When both are respected and nurtured, they strengthen each other. To me, connection is a form of power, and redefining it that way shifts how we build both love and success.

You both build cinematic sound worlds. When you’re making a track together, are you chasing a feeling, a visual scene, or a personal memory first?

Clarissa Carter: I’m always chasing a feeling rooted in personal experience. For me, “Power” comes from understanding how much creative energy women carry and how magnetic that energy can be. I’ve been inspired by thinkers like Audre Lorde and Regena Thomashauer, who talk about erotic energy as a form of power and reclamation, and that mindset definitely found its way into this track.

Son Kuma: With "Power," I was chasing a feeling. I knew where this song would fall in the tracklist of the overall album and wanted it to feel right. The album's narrative up until this point circled around my relationship with work and my partner, but we didn't have a voice for her yet. For that reason, I wanted this song to be a ballad that left room to capture feelings from both perspectives.

The hook of “Power” is bold and confrontational. Were you ever worried people would miss the message and just react to the shock value?

Clarissa Carter: I wasn’t worried about shock value because the message is rooted in confidence, not provocation. The song is about autonomy and owning your personal power without apology. It leans into the idea that power can be magnetic, sensual, and self-assured without needing to be softened. My music has always said the things people feel but don’t always articulate, and I trust that listeners will take from it what resonates with them.

Son Kuma: I was never worried because I knew my intended audience would understand. I wanted the hook to be as bold as possible because it forces people who are uncomfortable with our message to confront it. I wanted to create a song that empowered women because not enough men vocalize it, even if they do believe it. The hook interpolates Gunna and Drake's song 'P Power so I knew there would be at least some familiarity there.