Someone ought to make a western. Because this song demands a final scene in a western. First, the obvious settings come to mind: dust, godforsaken desert, maybe a horse or else a ragged pick-up, two men in boots and hats only one of which is going to still stand in the end. But maybe the scenery could be set in the Gobi desert, the show down set in a conglomeration of yurts. Or else – my favourite – somewhere on the Outer Hebrides. Windswept heather, walls of storm and rain out over the sea the only witnesses to the tragic end of a feud reaching down generations. In this story, no survivors are expected. Save for a flock of Soay lambs turning their heads away simultaneous from the bloody scene, resuming to graze.
Giant Sand, Red right hand