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Running RIP thread for musicians who died in 2022

If you want to head down a country music rabbit home, have a listen to Cocaine & Rhinestones, a podcast by Tyler Mahan Coe, son of David Allan. It’s the history of 20th century country music. The first season was all over the place in the genre, and the second season focuses mainly on George Jones. It’s some good listening. I find myself constantly stopping the podcast to go find a full-length version of a song from which he just played an excerpt.

Does he do anything on his father's - ahem - secret catalog?
 
Does he do anything on his father's - ahem - secret catalog?

He has not. He’s mentioned his dad a couple of times, but in the context of the story he’s telling. He’s not banking on being his dad’s son.
 
He has not. He’s mentioned his dad a couple of times, but in the context
of the story he’s telling. He’s not banking on being his dad’s son.
My next-door neighbor years ago was a bartender who drank in his apartment almost as much booze as he served at the bar. And when he was partying late at night with his buddies, he would put on one of David Allan Coe's underground albums, and that was how I was introduced to Coe's X-rated stuff.

So there I sat after midnight that first time, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as I heard one dirty-ass country song, cranked all the way up to 11, banging through the apartment wall. It all peaked – bottomed out, that is to say – when the album got to the funniest dirty chorus I'd ever heard, then and now, and of course the song title is right there in the first line:

Now there's cum stains on the pillow
Where she once laid her head.


 
Craziest thing I think I was ever told was somebody saying he asked a co-worker of his (a black female) to download some Coe songs for him and she did it.
 
My next-door neighbor years ago was a bartender who drank in his apartment almost as much booze as he served at the bar. And when he was partying late at night with his buddies, he would put on one of David Allan Coe's underground albums, and that was how I was introduced to Coe's X-rated stuff.

So there I sat after midnight that first time, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as I heard one dirty-ass country song, cranked all the way up to 11, banging through the apartment wall. It all peaked – bottomed out, that is to say – when the album got to the funniest dirty chorus I'd ever heard, then and now, and of course the song title is right there in the first line:

Now there's cum stains on the pillow
Where she once laid her head.


I have to imagine if the one you heard was "N***er F***er" you might not find it all that funny ...
 
I have to imagine if the one you heard was "N***er F***er" you might not find it all that funny ...
Got that right.

The guy died a few years later.
Drank himself to an early grave.
 

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