Jonny Greenwood: "What do I do? I just generally worry about things…"

THE CAR PULLS into the courtyard of a small complex E of offices in the middle of a housing estate on the fringes of Didcot, an Oxfordshire railway town. There are two doors into this unit, and we take the right-hand one at first, which leads, like the proverbial rabbit hole, into a warren of cramped rooms. Here's a drum kit, now a stack of guitar amps, and finally, as the air becomes muggier, even slightly fetid, we reach the control room, a windowless space piled high with effects racks, keyboards, a crumpled black leather sofa and mixing desk.