Not every track came out of that isolation, though. The best story on the record happened almost by accident, in a session with Arooj Aftab that had no plan attached to it at all. "We were working together for a couple of days, demoed a few songs, and on the second day we said, let's just fuck around and see what happens." Green had a guitar loop sitting in the session from earlier that morning, recorded without much thought. He played it back. "She went, 'What is this?' I said, 'I don't know, some dumb shit I did this morning.' She said, 'Why don't I try these lyrics on this?'" Aftab sang in Urdu, using words from a poet friend, and the song "Fire in the Water" was finished within the hour. "It was this really genuine, authentic moment, and the song fell out in an hour or two."

Elsewhere the record reaches back decades and several thousand miles, into a catalogue of Iranian folk and pop from the '60s and '70s. An archive administrator gave Green free rein over the whole discography. "There's such a rich heritage of folk and pop music to come out of Iran," he says, naming the track, "Shokoufeh", after the artist he sampled. "Now more than ever feels like a good time to remind people about that cultural heritage."

Some of the record's most straightforward moments came from the least considered process. "Me and You" was already turning up in Green's DJ sets before the album was even announced. "I made it on my kitchen table," he says – the same origin story as a good chunk of the record. "You're running it to people who have no idea what the song is, and it gets a great reaction – there's a familiarity even though they've never heard it before." Not everything survives that kind of test. "Memory Signal" ended up on a mysterious white-label 12", dished out to select record shops, rather than on the album proper. “The record needed the balance it has. Sometimes stuff just never comes out at all, and that's fine too.”