“Burning in my head”: how the rain of Dorset inspired America’s biggest anthem
(Credits: Far Out) Tue 10 March 2026 16:30, UK One of the many useless bits of trivia that has, for some reason, been stuck in my brain ever since I read it on a Christmas cracker, is that Dorset is one of a few British[1] counties that doesn't have a single stretch of motorway running through it.
While the county is home to some of my favourite British beaches and consequently triggers harrowing bank holiday memories of being stuck in endless winding traffic, to many, that tidbit of information is reflective of the county's somewhat traditional feel. It feels like something of a tranquil oasis, devoid of the trappings that come with a brutal grey strip[2] of asphalt running through the heart of it. A natural destination then, for musicians looking for a residential recording retreat - one where they can bask in the car-less silence of the county and instead focus solely on their music.
While there are many bands I expected to embrace that opportunity, the rather in conversely named America weren't one of them. Not just because their name provokes a rather baseless idea that they should be confined to their homeland, but instead because their music seems like such a celebration of it. Their most iconic song, 'A Horse With No Name[3]', is something of a road trip anthem, perfectly depicting the rambling journey that's taken off America's beaten tracks.
When I first heard it, I assumed that Dewey Bunnell had cooked the lyrics up from a very real experience that had been experienced while baking in the scorching heat of America's desert landscapes[4]. Maybe with or without the horse, I pictured Bunnell chipping away at the vast American expanse, contemplating his place in the world. But in reality, he couldn't have been further away from it - the song was actually written while the band were staying at the home of musician Arthur Brown, near Puddletown in Dorset, there in the quiet hills of the British countryside, Bunnell and co began thinking about the landscapes that made up their home and what exactly that meant to them.
"The desert as a topic had been burning in my head after years in the UK," Bunnell told Mojo. "As kids, my brother and I had spent time in the desert - New Mexico, Arizona, southern California - catching snakes and lizards and poking around. I was also conjuring up another kind of weather, since England was notorious for being rainy." It's clear then that the line "it felt good to be out of the rain" was a yearning for the sunnier climates of home, when the band were bogged down by the gloomy skies of traditional Britain.
But Bunnell later explained that the horse wasn't some manifestation of our country's royal history, nor was it an animal that served as a vehicle for the protagonist's long and painful desert suffering, but instead a sense of warm peace that Bunnell believed awaited him in the desert.
The result was a road-trip playlist staple, perfectly suited for drives on the long expanse of America's endless highways, and less so for the winding roads of Britain's rambling heartland.
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References
- ^ British (faroutmagazine.co.uk)
- ^ brutal grey strip (faroutmagazine.co.uk)
- ^ A Horse With No Name (faroutmagazine.co.uk)
- ^ America's desert landscapes (faroutmagazine.co.uk)