rRoxymore has spent the last decade mapping out a singular space within electronic music, somewhere between the dancefloor and deep interior terrain. Across releases that span textured techno, psych-tinged ambient, and fractured rhythmic experiments, her work has consistently resisted linear genre markers in favor of something more fluid, intuitive, and emotionally rich. With Juggling Dualities, she opens that space even further. Initially imagined as a New Age album, the record instead becomes a gently surreal meditation on disconnection and reconnection, threading together dub weight, cosmic shimmer, and rhythmic abstraction into a deeply felt sonic language.
What makes Juggling Dualities so compelling is its sense of balance, not just between acoustic and synthetic, rhythm and atmosphere, but between clarity and ambiguity. There’s a warmth to these tracks that feels restorative, even as they pull in multiple directions at once. Rather than collapse complexity, rRoxymore lingers inside it and invites the listener to do the same.
Juggling Dualities is out now on !K7 Records. Listen to it HERE.
Foxy Digitalis depends on our awesome readers to keep things rolling. Pledge your support today via our Patreon or subscribe to The Jewel Garden. You can also make a one-time donation via Ko-fi.
Let’s go back to the beginning. I’d love to hear about some of your earliest memories of music and sound – are there certain things that stand out to you as memorable or formative from when you were younger? What are some of your first memories related to music?
I have been asked recently about a similar question. It is difficult to really remember what my first sound memory was that is not music. But I would say that my first memory related to music was being at home listening to the radio or maybe a jazz record my dad would have put on, and me dancing freely in the living room. I was maybe 5 years old or something.
When did you start writing and creating your own music, and what pushed you to start creating?
A close friend of mine introduced me to music production. It is not something I would have thought of at that time, opposed to DJing, for which I had a strong calling for early on. My friend had a small studio set up in his home garage, and I was invited to pop by any time, even on my own. I would just spend hours playing with the machines and different effects. It was really a very formative period.
You’ve described Juggling Dualities as your most honest work to date. What does honesty mean to you in a musical context, and how did it manifest during the making of this record?
Honesty, in this case, because I was proud of the immediate output right away. As soon as the tracks started to take shape. It reflects a total coherence between the essence of the ideas and the result itself. That felt true to where I was, not just artistically but personally. It’s about resisting the urge to polish everything until it’s perfect, and instead letting the raw, imperfect moments breathe. I allowed the process to be more intuitive than usual instead of over-controlled. I usually spend weeks tweaking sounds.
The album began as a new age project, yet it folds in Detroit techno, kosmische, dub, and more. How did these influences emerge and intertwine during the writing process?
The album’s roots in new age came from a desire to create something that offered space, breath, and healing, but also wanting to go down a creative path that I have never explored in a serious and non-serious way. As soon as I started working, I realized that seriousness alone didn’t tell the full story of where I was emotionally or creatively. That’s when other influences—Detroit techno, kosmische, dub—naturally started to surface.
I’ve always been drawn to Detroit techno to emotional depth, even when it’s mechanical or minimal. It helped push some tracks forward, gave them pulse and friction. There is always a touch of psychedelism/kosmishe touch in my music; it brings the feeling of drifting but not being lost—just open. Dub, with its heavy use of bass, space, and echo, shaped how I thought about absence and presence in the mix. It allowed certain ideas to float, to decay in their own time.
Rather than trying to force these genres to coexist, I let them guide the emotional shifts of the record. Some pieces leaned more ambient and spacious; others needed rhythm or repetition to carry them. It was less about fusing styles in a technical sense, and more about allowing each influence to speak when the moment called for it. They became part of a shared vocabulary—different dialects of the same emotional language.
After a period of creative block and emotional dislocation, you mentioned that distance and disconnection became essential to moving forward. Can you share what that retreat looked like, and how it shaped your return to sound?
The retreat wasn’t dramatic; it wasn’t about disappearing to a cabin in the woods or turning off the internet for six months. It was quieter, slower, and more internal. I stopped trying to make anything for a while. I let go of deadlines, expectations, even the idea of productivity. At first, that felt lonely, like I was stepping away from a core part of myself, but eventually, that distance became clarifying.
I started listening more than creating. I walked a lot. Meditating, I revisited old records not to study them, but just to feel something again. When I did return to sound, it wasn’t about chasing inspiration, it was about responding to it.
But distance gave me a kind of emotional neutrality and some kind of release rush too, a space where sound could emerge naturally, without needing to mean anything, even if it was framed as New Age at first. That’s what opened the door to Juggling Dualities: not forcing my way back, but listening my way forward.
There’s a strong sense of breath and spaciousness throughout the album. Was this rhythmic looseness and ambient focus a deliberate shift, or something that revealed itself naturally?
Both of them, I guess, I didn’t set out with a strict intention—I just knew I didn’t want to force anything into rigid structures. Eventually, I started to notice patterns: recurring moods, tonal tensions, a kind of emotional language that threaded these pieces together. As the sessions developed, that rhythmic looseness and ambient sensibility started to feel not just intuitive, but necessary. That’s when the idea of the shape of the album started to come together — It felt like I was uncovering a vision, if I can say.
You’ve spoken about the “incessant, desperate thrum of social media” as something to break away from. How has detaching from those external rhythms influenced the internal pace of your creative practice?
For sure, it has some impact on the creative practice, but just as a human being, too. I think it is a great luxury to be able to tune in to your own rhythm from time to time, finding a way to not be too impacted by those external rhythms that are not only transmitted by social media.
For me, genres have always felt more like a set of suggestions to work against than a rulebook. So I try to treat genre like a reference point, not a destination.
In the case of this album, where the starting point was to make a “new age music album,” it was more a mood I was looking for than an actual copy of the style itself. And yes, within the process, it took me to blur the different boundaries or references you could hear. The goal was not to be anti-genre, but to stay true to the feeling, wherever it leads me.
What surprised you the most about making this record?
The immediate satisfaction after finishing each track, and the feeling of finding a kind of refuge within my own music during the writing phase.
And as always, to close, what are some of your favorite sounds in the world?
Some of my favorite sounds in the world… I think I like the sounds that remind me of the summer in general, like the cicadas. I like the sound of fans. I think it is a nice, peaceful “drony” sound. I like the sounds of steps in an empty street. I realized that since we all wear soft-soled shoes now, we hear less of that kind of sound in cities these days.
Foxy Digitalis depends on our awesome readers to keep things rolling. Pledge your support today via our Patreon or subscribe to The Jewel Garden. You can also make a one-time donation via Ko-fi.
