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While discussing auto-eroticism -- a frequent topic on the new Crash Test Dummies album Give Yourself a Hand -- Roberts slips his own hands into his pockets. I pretend not to notice.
This feeling of awkwardness might become familiar to his fans upon hearing the new album, a sometimes self-indulgent reinvention of the Dummies' sound that catapults the Celtic and gets rid of the rock in favour of a shiny new coat of electronic funk.
As one might expect, Robert's voice proves to be the primary catalyst for the Dummies' latest chemical reaction. The unexpected part comes from the occasional abandonment of his signature mega-low bass in favour of a shimmering falsetto.
"I was looking for an apartment and the only place I could find was way deep in Harlem where I'm the only white guy for miles," says Roberts. "I took it, reluctantly I might add and fearing for my life, but I took it anyways. And you just hear a lot of falsetto up in that part of town because it's a part of the culture.
"I started singing in the shower, aping what I was hearing around me, not thinking that I'd use it for my record."
Nevertheless, the falsetto, which shows up throughout the album, led Roberts to seek out new, funkier sounds for the band.
His search led to a castle in southwestern France, a songwriting retreat with PJ Harvey's partner John Parish, Carole King and Canadian Greg Wells.
Despite a very non-Sesame Street distaste for creative co-operation, Roberts found himself working with Wells and bandmate Ellen Reid to create a whole new sound and vision.
The sonic result is a mishmash (albeit a mostly successful one) of '90s styles like trip-hop, hip-hop, drum 'n' bass, industrial dance and acid jazz with a little old-school funk tossed into the mix.
Although the record occasionally veers into familiar territory (Reid, who sings lead on three tracks, produces a very Portishead-like sound) the band remained true to its pop roots, using hip-hop beats but eschewing rapid-fire word play, toying with jungle but avoiding meandering sonic excursions.
Despite the success of the musical co-operation, Roberts maintained exclusive control over the lyrics. Yet even these took a sharp change, filtering the black influence of his surroundings with a more direct, attitude-filled, sexual content.
"I was fresh out of university, having just completed a philosophy and English degree, when I was writing the first and second records," he explains. "The atmosphere of academia still held sway over me.
"But now I've been out of it so long, the lyrics have almost no metaphorical content. They're very direct, very in your face. They're all about masturbation and getting hosed at stripper bars and prostitutes.
"The lyrics I've written in the past had nothing to do with that. And God Shuffled His Feet was more about ... well, I can't even think what it's about but it sure as hell isn't about prostitutes."
The move is a risky one. Despite selling 8.5 million albums, the former Winnipeg-based band's last release A Worm's Life was considered a failure even though more than 1 million sold.
What's left of their original fanbase is unlikely to recognize the new direction when the album is released next month or during their opening slot on Alanis Morissette's upcoming Canadian tour.
But Roberts doesn't really care.
"I don't think about (my fans) when I'm writing. I don't wonder about how people will react. I write what I think is good and if someone else likes it then they'll buy it.
"To write to some formula would just bore me to tears.
"I'd rather sell insurance with some company with florescent lights on the ceiling than try and please the audience."