Gordon Bell writes his songs on a rusty old typewriter in the dead of night, fuelled by coffee and memories of a youth misspent in Scotland that never let him sleep. Kat Kunz is an industrial metal insomniac with a thick coil string fetish. She adds the deep rumbling depth charge tones that gently ripple the surface waters. Professor Ray Gunn is a doctor of time. He counts the distance between the beats, measuring and correcting, adjusting and syncopating, sending out the clicks that constantly monitor the distances between the hull and the murky abyss. Gordon Bell and The Sinking Ships sometimes sound like a hot cup of sweet coffee spilled on the brown and orange ballroom carpet of a slowly decaying ocean liner. They are beautiful in their imperfection and really rather sticky. At other times they sound like a clunky old Soviet spaceship driven by a traumatised cosmonaut ripping through the stratosphere.