Taste. Rinse. Spit Out.

by Fragile X

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Technically this is my debut EP as it's the first thing i've released that consists entirely of my own work.

5 songs, written and rewritten at various times and places over the last few years and recorded in my bedroom between October 2011 and April 2012.


released April 8, 2012

All music and lyrics written and performed by Fragile X.

All tracks produced and recorded in the "Bedroom Studio".



all rights reserved


Fragile X Glasgow, UK

Organic electronic, analogue, ambient, experimental and acoustic sound designs filtering out of a Glasgow bedroom. Also the founder and label head of the Bricolage netlabel and collective.

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Track Name: Takotsubo
I’ve tried to break the ice for it just won’t melt.
I guess a cold hand fate has dealt.
So i tried to burst the bubble but it flies to high.
I guess your heart’s a balloon and i’m scared of heights.

I tried to send you signs, tried to let you know.
I guess i’m doing it wrong by writing a song.
I’ve tried so long and now i’m giving up.
I guess we’ll just stay friends and i’ll hold my tongue.

My shoulder is yours to cry on but your bed isn’t mine to lie on.

Friends. We’re just friends.
And i’m cool with that.
Friends. We’re just friends.
I guess i’m cool with that.
Track Name: Argine
Every time that i am Jack, you are Queen. When can i be King?
Every time my suit is black you paint me with the blood from your heart.
You’re in the club with your diamonds on while i’m digging holes for this house of cards.
I’m shuffling around your love. I don’t want it no more. The game is up.

Now i’ve finally figured out you’re not odd. You’re just even.
You’re on your way home? Well, baby, i’m just leaving.

I took a gamble. You took a guess that i’m tired, so keep on your dress.
I took a chance. You took your turn.
You can teach me but i’ll never learn.

Every time my hand is shown, my bed is made, my cover’s blown.
It’s too bad that we have a past but let’s keep it there. That’s all i ask.

Now i’ve finally figured out we’re not odd. We’re just even.
And if we stay this way we’re not alive. We’re just breathing.

Every time that i am Jack, you are Queen.
When can i be King?
Track Name: We Don't Dance
Cards on the table for the games we’d play.
Gin in the cupboard for the nights you’d drink.
TV on standby for the nights we’d talk.
Your shoes at the door for the day you’d walk.

Hand prints on the mirror from the night you stayed.
Lipstick on the pillow from where you’d lay.
Kissed me under the covers in a drunken haze.
Fuck these pills let’s smoke our worries away.

Samsung on the table for the memories we’d make.
Smiles all around for the pictures you’d take.
Mixtapes at the ready for the songs we’d exchange.
Magazine cut outs placed in a frame.

And my blood’s on the wall but it won’t stain.
And the montage it falls and the memories they fade.
And my blood’s on the wall but it won’t stain.
And why i lied, i find so hard to explain.

My guitar’s in the corner with broken strings.
Your phone’s on the table, you’re ignoring its rings.
The neighbours are noisy, now’s our chance.
The house to ourselves for one last dance.
Track Name: Rocket Science
I leave the door open to let the wolves in.
They've come to eat my sins.
They've come to eat my sins.

I leave the lights on to make sure i'm seen.
I keep the red on my collar so you know where i've been.

And you'll be drunk and you'll cry and you'll say i can't keep it in my pants.
But i'll be drunk and reply and say "It's better out there than in my hands."
At least i'm being honest and isn't that what you wanted?
Isn't that what you said you'd wed me for?

Though your digs are thinly veiled,
They never seem to fail to get a rise that brings me down.
We're the talk of old Wolf Town.

Our lies are big enough to swallow us whole.
Yet they're small enough to fit between the lines we left on the door.

We're reading between the lines and surely that's a sign.
There's a lot to be said for silence.
It's not fucking rocket science that we're dead.
We're dead.
We're dead in old Wolf Town.