If you’ve tuned in to My Name Is Tiga on BBC6 Music this year, you’ll know how the host works. A characteristic line from the latest festive edition: “Music. Love. Christmas. Techno. Reindeers. What do they all have in common? Me.” It’s this dry wit combined with a wide-reaching tastemaker’s ear that makes Tiga one of dance music’s true originals.

Tiga is anything but one-dimensional. For many, he’s still the electroclash pin-up defined by Sunglasses At Night, Pleasure From The Bass and You Gonna Want Me. For others, he’s the master remixer whose conquests include Depeche Mode, the xx, Jamie Lidell, Alter Ego, Fever Ray, Moby and most recently an inspired overhaul of Blue Cassette by Friendly Fires. Then of course there’s his role as head of Turbo Recordings, surrounding himself with innovative types like Sei A, Crowdpleaser and Azari & III.

As a touring DJ, Tiga cuts a strikingly different figure from the mascara-wearing, high-sheen character you see on his album covers. Dressed demurely with his ever-present baseball cap in place, he’s almost timid on-stage. The music, however, is anything but. A Tiga DJ set still promises full-throttle gear from the likes of Gesaffelstein, Boys Noize and Mr Oizo, but that’s only part of the picture. In 2011, a love of what he calls “post-dubstep techno” has channelled into his sets; Blawan and Untold rubbing shoulders with Ed Bangers and electro-pop.

With so many different faces, it’s no surprise Tiga sometimes finds himself misunderstood. Should he be playing peaktime on the mainstage or off to the side with the techno guys? Is the real Tiga the one we hear on his albums? The contradictions are not lost on the man himself, and we got him on the phone ahead of Field Day, Summadayze and Summafieldayze to hear why a “confused head-space” isn’t such a bad thing.

Big day of Australian interviews?
Big night for me, which makes it even worse. I just went to a dinner, left early and came to my office. It’s pitch-black on a Tuesday night and I’m lying on a couch as if I’m talking to my shrink. It’s like non-stop Australian psychiatry. Just lying down and answering questions.

It’s only 10 o’clock but it feels late, because I’m not used to doing anything at this time on a Tuesday. Where are you? I’m at home in Montreal. If I was touring or travelling, it wouldn’t feel late.

How was that recent trip you took to Russia?
It was amazing. It was just what the doctor ordered actually. I’ve been feeling a little tangled-up in my brain, and I went to the city where Proxy is from, three hours out of Moscow. There was really nothing to do. It was quite grim; exactly what you’d expect from the East Bloc from watching action movies. Grey and not much happening. But his studio was amazing and he’d opened up a small club.

Travel can strip everything away so it’s just the basics again: which for me is music and the studio. If you tour a lot, it’s a very nice life and you tend to be spoiled. You get used to so many parties, so it was nice step out of that and feel 16 again.

So is Russia uncharted territory for you?
Yeah, I mean that part of Russia is uncharted territory for everything. It was about as uncharted as I could get. I’ve played in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, but it was my first time out of the major cities.

You mentioned feeling tangled-up. At this end of the year, is there a creative fatigue that sets in – or is more from the other aspects of the job?
Maybe it’s everything together [laughs]. I think it depends. For me personally, it’s hard to put into words, but this year felt like the wrapping up of a cycle.

My career’s been long enough to see these cycles happening – they run for a few years when you get inspired by a new kind of music, meet new people, and then it slowly gives way to something else. And in the space before it gives way to something else, there’s always a period of confusion. A little bit like falling out of love with someone; you know something’s missing. So this is like the end of one of those and the beginning of a new one.