Brixton Cromwell 1200 Review - Copycat or Cult Classic?

Everyone wants to be the next Bonneville! Some do it with lineage, some with licensing deals and others with Helvetica fonts and a Union Jack. And then there's Brixton - an Austrian brand with a British-sounding name, a Chinese manufacturing partner, and a bike that looks like it time-travelled from 1968 wearing a Triumph disguise. Meet the Cromwell 1200. It's not heritage in the classic sense. It's heritage by intent. But in a world where image often matters more than origin, does it make a difference?

Brit Looks, Global Passport

From ten feet away, the Cromwell 1200 could pass for a Bonneville T120 with a beard and leather wristbands. There's the teardrop tank, the twin shocks, the round headlamp, and the minimal fuss lines. But get closer, and the details begin to surprise. The paint has depth. The metal finishes feel substantial. The badges and switchgear don't scream budget. In fact, it feels well put together - more so than many "affordable" retros trying to be something they're not.

Yes, it's assembled in China. But so are iPhones. And if that's what it takes to make a good-looking, solidly built modern classic accessible, it's hard to argue. Just don't go looking for century-old engineering traditions. This one's retro by design brief, not by DNA.

Grunt Without Growl

Underneath the vintage visuals sits a 1222cc parallel twin, churning out 82PS and a thumping 108Nm of torque. It sounds suspiciously close to Triumph territory - and on purpose. But no, this isn't a Bonneville engine in disguise. Developed in-house by Brixton's parent company KSR Group and built by Gaokin in China, this motor is a clean-sheet design. Air- and oil-cooled, twin-cylinder, and tuned for torque - it clearly wants to walk and talk like a Brit twin, but its passport is very much stamped elsewhere.

The Cromwell isn't a rev-happy hooligan. It's a torquey cruiser in disguise - ideal for city glides and Sunday rides, but not something that eggs you on. That said, if you're willing to hang on and let the wind slap you around a bit, it'll hold 140kmph on the highway without breaking a sweat - and the brakes are up to the task of hauling it back down safely too. Just don't mistake the compass-etched headlight bezel for a sense of direction. This isn't a cross-country explorer. It prefers a lazy café run or a brisk city sprint to anywhere involving saddle sores and suitcases.

The throttle is friendly. The power comes in a thick, predictable wave. It sounds decently throaty too, especially at idle. But if you're hoping to outrun the traffic light GP or carve canyons, you'll be asking for more bite than the Cromwell is willing to give.

Bonneville on a Bulking Cycle

At 235 kilos wet, the Cromwell 1200 is no lightweight. It feels heavy at parking speeds and takes a bit of muscle to push around. But once you're moving, it settles into a stable, confident rhythm. The KYB suspension setup is so firm, that it shows it was made for the Austrian tarmac. Nissin brakes do the job without fanfare - but feel safe and sharp.

It's not razor-sharp in corners, but then again, neither is its target buyer. This is a sit-back-and-soak-it-in machine, not a knee-dragger. Think of it as a Bonneville that prefers a gym bag over saddlebags and more mass over finesse. That said, the stock tyres are a weak link. While they hold their own under hard braking, they feel skittish when you start leaning into corners. And when the roads turn damp, the grip goes from cautious to downright alarming. If you ride in the wet or like a bit of lean, a tyre swap should be your Day One priority.

More Than Just a Pretty Tank

The Cromwell gets a respectable list of features: traction control, dual ride modes (Eco and Sport), USB charging, LED lighting all around and a TFT dash with Bluetooth connectivity. The display itself feels slick and responsive to throttle inputs, but it struggles under harsh sunlight - legibility drops the moment the sun gets too direct. It's an odd shortcoming on a bike that otherwise feels thoughtfully executed. No cruise control, no IMU wizardry - but for the price, it's decently specced.

The seat is broad and surprisingly comfy. The upright riding position is relaxed, even for taller riders. Tank range is touring-friendly, and the mirrors actually show something other than your elbows. There aren't too many pedal, seat or handlebar vibrations to complain of either, which adds to the bike's overall sense of refinement - it feels genuinely premium in that regard. In short, it's not just for posing outside cafés. Though it's perfectly suited to that as well.

The 70% Rule

At around ?9 lakh ex-showroom, the Cromwell 1200 is comfortably cheaper than the T120 and significantly more expensive than Royal Enfield's Super Meteor or Shotgun 650 - both in terms of price and performance. With nearly double the displacement and output, the Cromwell plays in a different league altogether. So while the RE 650s offer unbeatable value in their own right, this Brixton feels more like an alternative to Triumph's twin-cylinder offerings than anything from the Enfield camp. But here's the thing - it looks bigger, rides smoother, and comes across as more "premium" than its price tag suggests.

Sure, the brand has no legacy, no massive service network, and no cult following - yet. But for someone who wants the big-bike classic aesthetic without coughing up Triumph money, this might be the sweet spot.

Verdict

The Cromwell 1200 is a fascinating proposition. It doesn't pretend to be iconic. It doesn't rewrite the retro rulebook. But it also doesn't cut corners where it counts. It offers just enough of everything - looks, comfort, torque, tech - to make you wonder why more brands don't try this hard.

If you're looking for pedigree, head to a Triumph showroom. But if you're after a head-turning modern classic that delivers on charm without maxing out your credit, this Brixton is worth more than a passing glance.

It's not a Bonneville. But maybe, just maybe, it's better for not trying too hard to be one.