David Allan Coe Dies at 86

David Allan Coe, the country singer-songwriter who wrote the working class anthem "Take This Job and Shove It" and had hits with "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" and "The Ride" among others, has died. He was 86. Coe's wife, Kimberly Hastings Coe, confirmed his death to Rolling Stone on Wednesday. She described him as one of the best singers and songwriters of our time. "My husband, my friend, my confidant and my life for many years. I'll never forget him and I don't want anyone else to ever forget him either," she wrote to the publication. The cause of death wasn't disclosed, reports the AP. His wife posted on Facebook in September 2021 that he had been hospitalized with COVID-19 and he had made few appearances since then.

Whether he was labeled outlaw or underground, Coe was clearly an outsider in Nashville's music establishment, even throughout his successes as an in-demand songwriter and singer, eventually developing a core following around his raw, often obscene lyrics and a checkered and somewhat mysterious past. He did concert tours with Willie Nelson, Kid Rock, Neil Young, and others. He wrote "Take This Job and Shove It," a hit by Johnny Paycheck in 1977, and "Would You Lay With Me (in a Field of Stone)," a hit by Tanya Tucker in 1974.

He was also the first country singer to record "Tennessee Whiskey," penned by Dean Dillon and Linda Hargrove, that has since become a genre standard, and hits for George Jones and Chris Stapleton. His own country hit recordings included "You Never Even Call Me by My Name," written by Steve Goodman and an uncredited John Prine; "The Ride," and "Mona Lisa Lost Her Smile." Coe also appeared in a handful of movies, including Stagecoach and Take This Job and Shove It, which was named after his song.

Coe, born in Akron, Ohio, spent time in reformatories as a youngster, and served time in an Ohio prison from 1963 to 1967 for possession of burglary tools. He also has said he spent time with the Outlaws motorcycle club, but some of the tales about his prison time and his personal life have been wildly exaggerated over the years. "I'd have never made it through prison without my music," he said in an AP interview in 1983. "No one could take it (music) away from me. They could put me in the hole with nothing to do but I could still make up a song in my head."