Interview: LUX – ‘Mirage’ A Dreamy Exploration of Love’s Illusions and Realities

“Mirage” feels both intimate and expansive. How did that vision first take shape when you sat down to write it?

Honestly, it started really naturally, more as a feeling than an idea. Tomcbumpz and I were just vibing in the studio. I told him I wanted something that felt psychedelic but still emotional, something that pulls you in. He started playing around with melodies on the Prophet 6, I added more layers, he added drums, and then I freestyled, singing it in one take. The first demo came together super fast, and it just had that dreamy, floating energy that I connected to right away.

You’ve described the track as psychedelic R&B. What draws you to that sound, and how do you make it your own?

I’ve always loved R&B, but I’m also obsessed with texture — sounds that feel hazy or surreal. Psychedelic R&B lets me merge those worlds. I think what makes it my own is how I build space in the production. I love layers, harmonies, and ambient synths that make you feel like you’re in a memory instead of just listening to a song.

Tell us about your creative dynamic with tomcbumpz — what clicked between you two in the studio?

We actually met through Instagram. I had taken him to a rooftop to shoot some photos since I also do urban photography. I told him I make music, and we ended up hitting the studio after. He has a great ear for synths and I loved his sound design, so it felt easy to create together. The chemistry was instant — I think we just understood each other’s creative language.

The song dives into the complexities of personal relationships. Was there a particular moment or experience that inspired those lyrics?

Yeah, “mirage” came from a past relationship I was in. There was still love, but everything felt uncertain, like we were trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away. The lyric “We went back and forth back and forth for days / Trying to display our love / But it was never the same yeah never the same” really captures that. It’s about the exhausting push and pull, the moments where you’re giving your all, trying to make it work, and yet realizing deep down that the connection has shifted. It’s that feeling of repeatedly trying to show love, but knowing that things can’t go back to what they once were. The song is about acknowledging that truth while still holding on to the memories and emotions that made it meaningful.

You mixed and mastered “mirage” yourself, which is rare. What does having that level of control mean to you as an artist?

It means everything. I’ve been producing since I was 8, and I grew up around music — my grandpa is an audio engineer, so I learned from the best. I’ve always cared about every detail, from the vocals to the smallest reverb. Mixing it myself lets me protect the feeling of the song. It’s not just about making it sound clean, it’s about making sure it still feels the way it did when I wrote it.

The visuals — from the Queensborough Bridge to the subway tunnels — feel like an extension of the music. How do you see the relationship between your sound and your visual storytelling?

For me, visuals and sound are one and the same. I see music in images, colors, movement, places. Climbing the Queensborough Bridge and shooting in the subway tunnels was my way of showing the duality of “mirage.” It’s about illusion and perspective, and I wanted to capture that visually — the beauty and the chaos coexisting. The bridge represents distance and longing, while the tunnels represent being trapped in his maze, running and trying to find a way out. I like using real environments to reflect emotional states, because my world and my art are deeply connected. Every location tells part of the story — it’s not just where the video takes place, it’s what the emotion feels like.

You’ve cited artists like Jhené Aiko and SZA as influences. What have you learned from their work that shaped this track?

I think Jhené and SZA both taught me how to blend softness with strength. They create such emotional worlds through sound; it’s honest but still dreamlike. That inspired me to embrace vulnerability in my music, but also to not overthink — to just flow.

The studio where you recorded “mirage” seems to hold special meaning for you. How does the space you create in affect the final result?

Totally. Tom’s studio in Brooklyn has this cozy, safe energy. It’s warm and low-key, and that makes it easy to be creative. I’ve made a lot of good memories there, so the environment definitely shaped how open I was when recording.

You’ve said music is a reflection of life’s illusions and realities. What illusion are you exploring most deeply right now?

Lately, I’ve been exploring the illusion of connection — not just in love, but with friends and family too. Especially since I just moved, I’ve been feeling the push and pull of relationships, and just trying to make sense of everything. In “mirage,” that illusion shows up in the push and pull of love that’s fading, when you’re trying to read someone’s eyes for a truth that isn’t there anymore. It’s that space between what you wish something was and what it’s actually become.

What do you hope listeners feel or think about after they’ve heard “mirage” and watched the visuals?

I hope listeners reflect on their own relationships, especially if they’re caught in that in-between, illusion state — the back-and-forth where you’re chasing something that feels real but keeps slipping away. The song and visuals are about facing that truth and recognizing the reality of shifting love. Even when love changes or fades, the emotion was still real, and I want them to recognize that sometimes love changes, and even if it will never be the same, that doesn’t make it any less meaningful. I want listeners to feel the weight of that — the ache, but also the acceptance. I hope they feel encouraged to face the complexity of love with awareness and to find growth and meaning even in the moments that may not last.