We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

The Vulgar Death of Aggie O'Connel

by Tim Mechling

supported by
Brent Betourne
Brent Betourne thumbnail
batnarr
batnarr thumbnail
/

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
The Vulgar Death of Aggie O'Connel 14:12
lyrics
buy track
She killed the lights halfway up the driveway. She let the truck slow to a huffing rumble, and the tires turned slow enough for each turning bit of gravel to pop and crack. The radio was off. So was the AC, the seat clung to her hamstring when she eased off the gas. Summertime. The driveway was a twisted, windy thing. Oak tree fingers lurching slow like the submerged-in-molasses feeling at the end of nightmares. Spanish moss like ghosts. The night hung purple and tilted with a smatter of stubborn starlight defiant to the fiery gouts of orange cast from the prison. Every leaf was black and cackling and somewhere a mongrel was yowling in pitches unconstant and strange. She tilted the wheel left and the truck dipped into the ditch. Popped into reverse and wheezed it back to the opposite. Straightened the truck until it faced north away from the house and she checked the cylinder of the Ruger with a snap. Six golden rounds. It smelled strong like you could taste it. Cracked caps and hot grease. Sunshine focused through magnifying glass. Cigarettes extinguished on skin. Her step was heel-to-toe like a model getting used to shoes. Every inch of foot growled low against the hiss of breeze in long-neglected lawn and she hunched her back forward. The house came into view over the crest of the hill. It was smaller than she remembered. It had been a mansion, a plantation house. A grand slice of yesteryear contractors couldn’t reproduce. She saw the cheap siding. The CB antenna. There were three pickups parked in the mud where there used to be a garden. Tiretreads so deep in their wake that little puddles reflected the shifting and veined indigo night sky and a gulch where once the RAM looked to have sunk into the septic part of the yard. Three lights were on. One the living room flickering blue, two glowing orange upstairs in bedrooms. The one on the right used to be hers. She saw movement in there. Two figures sliding against one another. The gun was wet in her hand.

about

One long track.

credits

released June 11, 2021

Hannah Wyatt: Spoken word
Tim Mechling: The rest of it

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Tim Mechling image

Tim Mechling Washington

Tim Mechling is a Washington-based psych-folk/rock artist. He's been home recording and producing commercially unviable music since 2006.

contact / help

Contact Tim Mechling

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Tim Mechling, you may also like:

Bandcamp Daily  your guide to the world of Bandcamp

On Bandcamp Radio

Seafood Sam joins the show to discuss his newest album, " Standing On Giant Shoulders".
listen now