Separated at Birth?

It’s uncanny, isn’t it? The silver mane, the high forehead, the chisel-cheeked grimace that says “I’ve seen things – and most of them annoyed me.” At first glance, you might think they were separated at birth: one sent to a guitar shop, the other to a culture war.

Their faces both boast the kind of weathered elegance you only get from either a lifetime on stage or a lifetime of scowling at Brussels. Each sports the sort of sweeping hairstyle that screams either “rock god” or “Dutchman shouting at clouds” – and frankly, it could go either way depending on the lighting and whether there's a Stratocaster in view.

You could argue that both have achieved iconic status in their own way – one through musical transcendence, the other through political... let’s say persistence. But the real difference is in the eyes. One pair twinkles with the mischievous joy of a man who once summoned a thousand lighters with a single riff. The other? Well, they’re scanning the horizon for anything foreign that might need legislating against.

So yes, they share the same bone structure – but where one built bridges through music, the other’s more concerned with pulling up the drawbridge. It’s the tale of two elder statesmen of silver hair: one electrified Woodstock, the other would probably ban it.