I'm real intuitive, everyone is, we're just conditioned not to trust it.

… this was very far from being my best bits. It was me, in various venues, dying on my arse, over and over again.

The brooding, black-clad singer bridged a stark divide that emerged in the recording industry in the 1950s, as post-Elvis pop singers diverged into two camps and audiences aligned themselves with either the sideburned rebels of rock 'n' roll or the cowboy-hatted twangsters of country music.

Having spent more than £500,000 on players last summer, Crawley can hardly be classed as minnows but they have still punched way above their weight and this kind of performance means no-one will relish pulling them out of the hat in Sunday's draw.