Picture the scene; It is a blisteringly hot day, a dry breeze blows remnants of sand and dust across a desolate landscape, a small thunder of hooves can be heard thumping closer and closer, you slowly pan to the left and the silhouette of a horseman gallops into view before stopping, somewhat menacingly, a short distance away.
There’s a pause. A long pause. The sort of pause that has you frozen, waiting for the person stood ahead of you to make the first move… and he does, adjusting his cowboy hat and leaning to one side which allows the bright sunshine to momentarily blind you. Hopping off his beast in one slick swoop, planting both feet on the ground and revealing his all-white boots with silver pointed spur on the heel, the horseman has you quivering.
The figure, spitting out a strain of straw that has been nibbled down to threads, wipes his razor-sharp stubbled chin, adjusts his belt, straightens out his shirt and pauses once more. After a period of seconds that feels like a lifetime, the moment has arrived. The horseman has decided to reveal his intentions.
Walking to the rear end of his horse, disappearing out of view for a moment, the animal follows its instructions and begins to creep slowly towards you with the man still out of view. Then, out of nowhere, he reappears, armed with what you think is a weapon until you realise…
…It’s Thom Yorke, the infamous Rhinestone Cowboy himself.