Remembering the original “Rhinestone Cowboy”

Drifter, can you make folks cry when you play and sing?
Have you paid your dues? Can you moan the blues? Can you bend them guitar strings?
Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside?
‘Cause if you’re big–star bound, let me warn ya — it’s a long, hard ride.

I saw the sun come up this morning. David Allan Coe didn’t.

“The Mysterious Rhinestone Cowboy” died yesterday afternoon, reportedly while hospitalized. He was 86 years old.

Now you either know who David Allan Coe is or you don’t. If you don’t, I refer you to the opening line of a tribute I read this morning, describing him as “one of the most brilliant, most controversial, most mercurial, most wild and wildly influential artists, songwriters, and performers in country music history.”

And if you do know, you either loved Coe or, probably for reasons I won’t get into here, you found him disgusting. There’s really no middle ground.

He typified “outlaw Country,” though not in the way that progenitors of the genre (Waylon and Willie) intended. While Jennings sang, “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand,” Coe bragged about (and occasionally exaggerated) doing hard time.

Some of his songs — “You Never Even Called Me by My Name,” “Longhaired Redneck,” “The Ride,” “Take This Job and Shove It” (yeah, he wrote that) — belong on any respectable classic Country Playlist. They’re definitely on mine.

The country deejays all think I’m an outlaw
They’d never come to see me in this dive
Where bikers stare at cowboys
Who are laughin’ at the hippies
Who are prayin’ they’ll get outta here alive

But the city of Akron, Ohio doesn’t promote itself as the birthplace of David Allan Coe. He was neither a choirboy nor a role model. Unsurprisingly, given his unconventional and often crude style, he never was invited to join the Grand Ole Opry.

Question is, does he still deserve to be remembered as one of the greats? For the answer, go back to the article I quoted earlier: “one of the most brilliant, most controversial, most mercurial, most wild and wildly influential artists, songwriters, and performers in country music history.”

That’s accurate. Every word.

Ride on, DAC.

Meanwhile, on The Mountain, Miss Smudge and I are fine. I’ve been keeping busy — mostly puttering, indoors and out, fussing around the fringes and making my home look (and work) to my liking.

When I’m not doing that, the happy Heeler and I sit and stare into the woods.