The Brackish are a 4-piece experimental band from Bristol UK. First formed in 2012, the band have released six albums, most recently ‘Pack it in My Liege’ on Pig Records - Nov ‘25.
Constantly evolving, the band draws inspiration from a wide range of musical influences, art, films, places and people.
The Brackish sound is characterised by its use of dynamics, long-form composition and improvisation. Face-melting heaviness gives way to gentle, spacious, improvised soundscapes, often within a single piece. Kraut-like grooves, polyrhythms, violent melodic statements and psychedelic, free-form improvisation are present in equal measure. Always expressed with a strong emphasis on melody and narrative, aiming to take the listener on multiple journeys of much-needed escapism.
PRESS
Louder Than War album review..
New album Pack it in My Liege, which will be released in November on Pig Records, but I have had a sneak preview, is sublime musicianship verging on and dipping into heavy and prog but with the inventiveness and freedom of jazz. Building on and adding to their five previous albums, this is a sound that is as innovative and experimental as it is beguiling and seductive. Live they’re a sonic force, and this Lp captures that adventurous spirit.
The interplaying between Smith, other guitarist Luke Cawthra, bassist Jacob Tyghe and drummer Matt Jones is mesmerising…be prepared
‘On Heavy Rotation ‘ album review….
“Pack It In My Liege” production wise feels like departure from 2023’s “Donor Zone.”Far cleaner sounding but still retaining the throbbing chunkiness that I so admire in their previous albums, this approach is pushing forward the dynamics, contrary delicacies and aggressions of their unique dual guitar interplay, use of space and rhythmic genius.
Right from the bombastic opener “Welter” to the frankly extraordinary centrepiece “SIAB” and through to the fuzzed out exotica of the closing track “Blue Zombie”, “Pack It My Liege” is a real journey. The Brackish have an innate ability to transport us as listeners to unexpected but perfectly formed musical universes.
I always think of their music in highest terms of movement, colour, shape and an almost active texture. This for me at least has always been characteristic of what they’re doing, but now there is an even firmer confidence while still holding onto a wonderfully big hearted sense of play, always an elusive quality in any band.
One of this years finest records of any genre, “Pack It In My Liege” will be released on Bristol’s Pig Records on the 21st of November..
‘Aeturnal Flux, album review…..
Pack It in My Liege, the sixth album by Bristol-based avant-rockers The Brackish, exhibits the latest iteration of the multifarious instrumental rock first assayed on their 2014 debut Big Guys. In contrast with the freeform passages of Donor Zone, this Pig Records release demonstrates greater compositional rigour and the tightening of a quartet approaching reinforced steel levels of sturdiness. Brackish sound is ultimately a pliable material; if this release favours drones over jams, the next may see another reversal in polarity. Pack It in My Liege tilts the balance towards control, but with no loss in creative boldness. It features six tracks like surrealist paintings: epic yet contained visions of adventurous weirdness.
‘Welter’ opens proceedings in a suitably stormy fashion, operating from some nexus spanning post-hardcore, neo-psych and math rock; conjuring shades of acts as disparate as Sonic Youth and This Heat. The twin guitars of Luke Cawthra and Neil Smith place The Brackish in an exalted league with killer axe duo outfits like Polvo (or Slayer). Control verges on hysteria; solos sound subsumed under the tyrannical aegis of a catastrophic weather system.
The Brackish rhythm section shines on the following track, ‘Pinch & Roll’, with drummer Matthew Jones’ militarist snare patterns. He and bassist Jacob Myles Tyghe lay down a form of martial bluegrass that suggests a steampunk reconnaissance automaton patrolling in aether-powered circles. Unlike some of the genre’s practitioners, The Brackish manage to achieve that fine balance between the organic and the machinic exemplified by math rock’s originators from Red-era King Crimson to Botch’s knotty rhythm-riffs.
The stylistic elements of bustling polyrhythms and interwoven guitar riffs reach an apotheosis on album highlight ‘Stuck In A Box’. This piece boasts unashamedly exuberant colours in contrast to the frigid temperatures of the earlier tracks, mixing the angular pop of postpunkers XTC with the similarly Beefheartian strains of Don Caballero. A succession of tempo changes and metric shifts expose new facets to the guitars’ diamond surfaces.
‘Dessert for Days’ taps into the film soundtrack sensibilities of Tortoise to conjure a sandy wilderness panorama, glinting shafts auguring rare elements of Earth-like heaviness. A stoner doom disposition dominates, one that might collapse under the weight of its own morosity if it wasn’t for the inventive coiling of the dual guitar leads. ‘Prisoner’ has initially subdued ensemble playing, gradually drawn into a dervish gyre that brings the inexorable dramatic constructions of Godspeed! You Black Emperor or Dirty Three at their most passionate and Romani-channeling to mind.
Concluding number ‘Blue Zombie’ opens with wobbly aquatic textures that suggest the titular undead may be of that underwater variety directed by Lucio Fulci. Cawthra captures a tone comparable to Marc Ribot to lay down low-key jazz as charming as a song about a zombie has any right to be. Smith joins to create dance macabre guitar patterns, a clockwork staccato underpinning woozy, tremolo bar-augmented statements that finally drift away in a glimmering exotica-laced finale. The peaceful shift in tone suggests the once sombre cadaver (perhaps a victim of the opening track’s hurricane scenario) has become content with its floating dead status; it’s a transformation in authorial voice from Fulci to Clive Barker, and the zombie protagonists of the latter’s short story, ‘Scapegoats’, forever soothed by the rhythm of tiny waves. A satisfyingly strange conclusion, both for the track and this fine, intriguing album.
Text: (C) Copyright 2025 by Jon Kromka
'Released in September 2023, Donor Zone is the fifth album from Bristolean experimental rock quartet The Brackish. The imaginative flair they demonstrated on their previous 2021 release on Halfmeltedbrain Records, Atlas Day, has transferred successfully back to Stolen Body Records, who released Firm But Fair in 2018. The twin guitar interplay of Neil Smith and Luke Cawthra rests securely as always on the bedrock grooves and transitional dexterity of bassist Jacob Tyghe and drummer Matt Jones. Jazz – the broadest of musical churches – is a crucial ingredient, allowing the cohesion of formal elements in four tracks that successfully combine longform composition and improvisation.
The martial manoeuvres of opener ‘Willox for a New Age’, conjure an atmosphere somewhere between John Zorn’s jazz noir concoctions and the polyrhythmic convolutions of Henry Threadgill’s Very Very Circus. An initially merry, if spiky, tone turns increasingly uneasy with each transition. This track sets the pattern for the album as a series of musical bridges spanning post-punk geometrics and the neo-psych textures of post-rock: challenging, yet pleasantly listenable initially, then increasingly fraught with menace, then concluding via some combination of satisfying climactic resolution or arcane subtractive improvisatory logic.
The buzzing clouds of snare and wonky bass of the title track suggest psych-dub spindrift out of Magical Power Mako’s Bluedot period. A false ending reminiscent of something off the second disc of Amon Düül II’s Dance of the Lemmings gradually has a ghostly procession return to undergo its final dissolution.
There’s a subtle intricacy worthy of Tortoise or Aerial M going on in the suspenseful buildup of ‘J and J’. While the payoff riffola recalls the more goofalicious aspects of Frank Zappa’s ‘Sinister Footwear’ arrangements, its final climactic return elevates itself with redoubled intensity and some scorching fuzz solo work from Cawthra.
The final track ‘Buabb’ is a paragon of the kind of stylistic contrast this foursome excels in. An Afrobeat inspiration transudes the guitar-drum interplay with a light hypnotic bound that builds towards an improvisatory section like some collision between Strictly Personal-era Magic Band and the Nels Cline Trio at their most freeform and frazzled. While there’s no shortage of moody passages on Donor Zone, there’s also a light-hearted, absurdist quality that The Brackish share with labelmates The Evil Usses. These groups operate on a scale of melodic engagement that’s closer to fellow psych outfits like The Osees than the austere exploration of just intonation and metrical intricacy that Horse Lords have made their métier. The Brackish have hit upon an instrumental rock formula that’s scary enough to provide frisson, but tuneful enough in their arty lunacy to attract a growing audience. A horde of music-loving organisms can thrive in these salty waters. ( Jon Kromka from ‘Aeturnal Flux’ blog )
Donor Zone' came out of the same sessions as the previous record and is a sonically different, texturally challenging, also much heavier situation than 'Atlas Day', but no less enthralling for these slight changes in aural perspective. The title track and the frankly extraordinary 'BUABB' are current favourites and as ever with their work, appreciation of the whole journey is certainly part of the trip, be it a darker more aggressive one than previously travelled. This deeply engaging storytelling by sound will definitely prove to be one of this year's best for me. ( album review - ' On Heavy Rotation' )
A musical hall of mirrors built with warped genius. Bristol-based four-piece The Brackish has become one of the must-see live acts of the area's rich music scene. And much of the delirious grandeur of their performances comes across on 'Atlas Day', their fourth long- player. Guitarist Luke Cawthra, formerly of Phantom Limb, manages to bring a disquieting yet serene touch to his playing on tracks such as 'Leftbank', which sways between Chet Atkins- style melodicism and a kind of musical delireum. Rhythms and melodies morph and melt away, only to rise again in a new form. This kind of esoteric instrumental material could end up a pretentious mess in less skillful hands but the band is superb, their grip on the slippery dynamics is sure throughout and always musically aware. Together they have a unique style: wilfully enigmatic, with flashes of dark humour throughout. If prog had an older, weirder brother he would be called The Brackish. Recommended. (Guitarist magazine review for ' Atlas Day ' album - 9 / 10)
'Bringing to mind the instrumental areas of “Tweez” era Slint in their guitar tonalities, they also tap the eternal build and release genius of Dave Pajo’s iconic group Ariel M. But they also go into some heavily unpredictable territory with breathtaking verve, guts and temerity. Going from deep harmonic abstraction, to driving, algebraic, Beefheartian romps to joyous, triumphant crescendos.' ( On Heavy Rotation' )
...' a more accurate replication of their live sound, with the jazzier elements of their collective approach pushed to the foreground. There are elements of math rock and prog-metal that suggest polyrhythmically tricky forebears like Tortoise and Battles (and sometimes British contemporaries black midi); but there's also plenty of kraut-flavoured space and stoner groove to aid cognitive absorption for those more into headphonaut contemplation. '( Jon Kromka )
At the core of the music are tight arrangements combined with improvisation, featuring interplay between two distinctive guitar voices. Each tune’s clear conception tells a story - changes of mood and rhythm add a compelling narrative to a vital and visceral sound. The broad vocabulary of the music - psychedelic, metal, jazz, kraut … - conjures echoes from Steve Reich to Sabbath, Can and Tortoise. 'It’s an album that is at once joyous and free yet, with a slight time signature change or introduction of a certain guitar affect, can make you feel queasy and uncomfortable. You can never second guess it or assume you know where the songs are heading as its relentless riffing can suddenly morph from Sabbath sludge to Television crispness.' Louder Than War album review
is the third album by Bristol four-piece The Brackish, but the first I’ve heard. My limited interactions with their other bands, all Avon-based and with origins going back a decade or more, didn’t prime me for liking this as much as I do: a set of instrumental pieces – approaching ‘heavy’ at times, often more meditative. The Brackish have a standard rock band setup, but often feel like a vehicle for their two guitarists, Luke Cawthra and Neil Smith. There are lots of great-sounding guitars on here: Neil Young Dead Man-type desert jamming, quasi-new age tinkling, bits evocative of weird marginal rusty post-rockers like A Minor Forest or someone (‘Birdman’) and rad squealy riff salad like Canterbury prog in a teenage metal basement (‘Bango’s Xmas’). And, lest bassist Jacob Tyghe and drummer Matt Jones read this and get the hump, they make for a crack engine-room too. Review of ‘Firm but Fair’ from Quietus
Firm But Fair (Stolen Body)The Brackish kicked off displaying a pleasantly alarming tightness. The first song had a punchy immediacy to it and straight away I was blown away by the skills, particularly, of their drummer as he span almost effortlessly around in what felt like a blender full of time signatures. Being an instrumental act, the decoration and complexity they achieved in the compositions was more than enough to satisfy the ears. In fact I think vocals would have convoluted the sound had they been there. The sharp guitar melodies kept a breakneck pace as they hurtled along beside each other like competing leads in the grand national; feeding through the pedals, they were coated in reverb and felt like air raid sirens echoing in almost orchestral unison Drunken Werewolf live review
'Whenever you’re ready to get weird, The Brackish will meet you there. The Bristol troupe’s fourth album, Atlas Day brings six songs and 38 minutes of ungrandiose artsy exploration, veering into dreamtone noodling on “Dust Off Reaper” only after hinting in that direction on the jazzier “Pretty Ugly” previous. Sure, there’s moments of crunch, like the garage-grunge in the second half of “Pam’s Chalice” or the almost-motorik thrust that tops opener “Deliverance,” but The Brackish aren’t looking to pay homage to genre or post-thisorthat so much as to seemingly shut down their brains and see where the songs lead them. That’s a quiet but not still pastoralia on “Leftbank” and a more skronky shuffle-jazz on “Mr. Universe,” and one suspects that, if there were more songs on Atlas Day, they too would go just about wherever the hell they wanted. Not without its self-indulgent aspects by its very nature, Atlas Day succeeds by inviting the audience along its intentionally meandering course. Something something “not all who wander” something something. JJ Koczan at the The Obelisk- review of 'Atlas Day '
‘TPA’ live review…Another locked groove with added gargantuan psychedelic waves crashing violently down on to a stony beach, drenching the visibly stunned hardy punters in huge washes of sound. Two guitars guardedly stare at each other through a wonky fairground mirror. The floor became unsolid such was the ensemble’s sheer volume. After that in-at-the-deep-end introduction to Brackishworld, we are informed by guitarist Neil Smith (stage left as we look) that the soon departing second excursion into the abyss does not have a title, although the hastily scribbled setlist I was given seems to think it’s called Dessert For Days. Apparently, this title is not fixed, and for what it’s worth I reckon it should be called Hammer & Anvil Blues. This second number was a brutal but slower, almost bluesy thing beckoning a Kraken from a swamp. Once the body has adjusted to the sonic attack, the experience was akin to being shot out of a canon at the Sun. Other suitably excessive similes and metaphors are available. By now the howling cacophony emanating from the embattled guitars was joined by bass player Jacob Myles Tyghe thrashing out chords on his instrument like his life depended on it, as drummer Matthew Jones, at times bearing an uncanny resemblance to Animal from The Muppets, manfully hammers out the rhythm. In contrast to Sweetpool, the audience is planted to the spot by the enormous weight of the sounds blasting off the stage, although swaying in the aural tornado was unavoidable.
Pinch & Roll has a Beefheartian/Pere Ubu vibe. All we need is the good Captain’s growl. An angular time signature sees Matthew and Jacob locked into a rhythm as alien crab-like creatures scuttle away on the sea floor. Hang on! This is Camden on a Sunday afternoon! What is going on here? My Human Gets Me Blues! Also, bulbous, and maybe a tad Crimsoid.
Brackish water is H2O in a transitional phase from fresh to saline, often found in swampy places, and it’s a good name for this singular band as they marry an improvisational Krautrock bent with those influences I’ve already mentioned into a mutant seafood platter that is ultimately satisfying.
Last choon Deliverance has a lolloping groove and lurches along, grinning malevolently. The rhythm tightens up as Neil whammy bars the protesting Kraken monster along the rock-strewn beach to its inevitable destiny. Descending into howling chaos the monster becomes a spaceship and takes off for the outer reaches. Neil and his oppo Luke Cawthra are now circling each other, phasers set to stun. What have we here? A drum solo? Well, I never! Short but sweet, they soon shoot off again to a place far away. A well-earned encore sees these lads from Bristol mash it all up again. Just when you think you have them nailed, they take a sudden turn into another territory. Deceptively low key, J Und J sounds like it might explode at any second. It does, and then some, descending into a deep well where freaky nightmarish imaginings from the dark corners of the soul beg for forgiveness. This is the heaviest thing I have heard since the Pre-Cambrian age. Well, this year at any rate! As someone once said, “It’s so hot in here, what are they trying to hatch?”
