David Allan Coe performs at Ziggy's with flare of the past mixed with the new
By David Irvine
Old Gold and Black Reviewer

The music came to a sudden halt halfway through a performance of “Desperate Man” David Allan Coe concert at Ziggy’s Sept. 26. “I have received about 40 e-mails from people who heard rumors on TNN that I was dead,” Coe said to the hushed crowd. “Do I look dead?” he then said, with the additional benefit of a few unmentionable expletives.

While his words prompted an enthusiastic roar from the audience, I was left pondering his question. The 62-year-old singer/songwriter has certainly seen his better days. Coe gives the appearance of one who has spent a few too many nights in establishments just like Ziggy’s: places where the speakers blast at deafening volumes, where cigarette (and, yes, marijuana) smoke lingers thick in the air, and where the performer on stage must compete for attention with the drunken brawls that break out in the audience.

A time existed when Coe virtually owned such an atmosphere. Since he didn’t begin the country outlaw movement of the 1970s with Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and company, he was left with the task of inserting himself into it. And so he did in no uncertain terms, establishing himself as a hard-living country boy who reveled in his own success at bucking the status quo.

But in the twilight of a career that has spanned more than four decades, Coe’s age is showing. My hopes of a pre-concert interview were shattered when the singer’s manager informed me that he would be napping until show time. Then, when he first appeared before the crowd, Coe did not move across the stage with his arms in the air, nor take several shots of whiskey as he has in the past. Rather, the crooner stood stationary in the middle of the stage with his trademark rebel flag guitar, stared straight ahead with no expression on his wrinkled face, and sang.

If Coe was less than enthusiastic at the beginning of his set, however, the feeling did not translate over to the audience. Having chanted “D-A-C! D-A-C!” for several minutes as the Tennessee Hat Band prepared their instruments, his 455 admirers in attendance cheered wildly when Coe took the stage. Indeed, the mere sight of the legend decked out fully with his braided beard to his chest, his braided hair to his belt and his tattoo-covered arms is enough excite just about anyone.

And the music was just right. After opening with “Talking To The Blues,” Coe moved into “’59 Cadillac, ’57 Chevrolet” and “Son Of The South.” This lineup of blues, rock and country performed back-to-back-to-back served to show off Coe’s range. Nonetheless, as the show progressed no doubt remained that this was a country concert, however electrically charged it may have been.

Nearly every song was instantly recognizable by Coe’s fans. “Jack Daniel’s If You Please,” “This Bottle In My Hand,” “Willie, Waylon and Me,” “Divers Do It Deeper,” “Longhaired Redneck” and, of course, “If That Ain’t Country” were all performed. But in addition, Coe saved room for some of his lesser-known tunes, many of which he had not played at Ziggy’s in the past. These included “Lately I’ve Been Thinking Too Much Lately,” “Drink Canada Dry,” “Song For The Year 2000” and “Jimmy Buffett.”

Noticeably absent from the show were two songs most representative of Coe’s success as a songwriter. “Take This Job and Shove It” and “Would You Lay With Me (In A Field Of Stone)” were number one hits by Johnny Paycheck and Tanya Tucker, respectively.

In addition, Coe had much less to say to his audience than he has in years past.
Missing were his stories about time on death row, being a single father, and the like. For better or worse, it was all about the music, as Coe generally went from one song straight into another.

“I wrote every song that I’ve played for you tonight,” Coe said just prior to his first curtain call. But then came the encore. Those last 30 minutes were like a different show entirely, as the entertainer became much more energetic. He spoke of his relationships with Pantera and Kid Rock as he performed three of the latter’s songs in a row: “Wasting Time,” “If I Were President,” and “Only God Knows Why.”

Then Coe returned to his own material, singing “The Ride,” the haunting tale of an encounter with the ghost of Hank Williams, and closing with his signature song, “You Never Even Called Me By My Name.” He managed to slip one more surprise into the finale, cutting into “The Real Slim Shady” just before the last chorus of the song.

The sight of the aging crooner rapping as if he were Kid Rock or Eminem is almost a comedic one; he tries a bit too hard. But even if Coe is out of his element with such music, entertainment is found in watching him attempt it at all. It just goes to show that although time may be catching up with Coe, it cannot take the enjoyment out of quality music, nor truly handicap a born showman.