It’s hip to be 37mm by 37mm.
They used to say that if you remember the 1960s, you weren’t there. Something about everyone being off their heads on acid and listening to Hendrix a lot. And having sex with basically everyone. Don’t ask Auntie Brenda what she was up to in the ’60s, but let’s just say she had the body count of a bionic Jason Vorhees. But for those of us who grew up in the ’80s, we remember everything. Whatever your thing was, your very culture and identity were defined by it. Whether you were all about Die Hard or Dirty Dancing, Bauhaus or Banarama, Skool Daze or Super Mario Bros. Growing up in that most exciting of decades leaves an imprint on you.
That’s certainly true of Jonny Walker, the owner/designer behind Walker & Crown. His love of watches started early and has remained unwavering since. Like most of us, he’s bought, sold, bought more, sold less and ended up with a sizeable collection, and you’d think his route into starting his own brand would be the same as most people in the microbrand scene, but Walker & Crown wasn’t just Jonny giving it a go; it all ties back to the ’80s in one way or another.
The Revival range is the debut series from the brand, and it comes in four variants, each with its own vibe. Each watch is a mood, almost a character in its own right, and each one taps into the spirit of the ‘80s in a different way. But before you get into their differences, you need to look at their shared DNA.
Each watch shares that same shape. A perfectly square 37mm by 37mm case, harking back to quirky Casios and Seikos of the era. GADA in functionality but more deliberate, more provocative. They may all diverge in terms of design, but each one ties back to some element of ‘80s style. From the black and red, Club Tech Noir danger of the Laser Drift to the buttoned-up blue of The Clerk. But it’s the Memphis Beat which takes its design cues from the Memphis Group school of Italian design that acts as the jumping-off point for Jonny as a designer, linking back aesthetically to his first watch, a bold Swatch that he’s never forgotten. Although being a Swatch, it’s probably disintegrated faster than my willpower in a cake shop.
But beyond that love of watches, and the ‘80s in general, Jonny’s love of family is also evident in the brand. While his father was the one who introduced him to watches first, it was his grandfather who taught him about actual horology. A remarkable-sounding man, he had a habit of buying cheap watches and breaking them down to see what makes them, er…, tick (shut up, me). Even going as far as to make his own Frankenstein (to borrow a term from Eddie Van Halen, who made guitars out of bits of other guitars) watches. He also taught Jonny about the history of watches, letting him know about the luxury brands and what it was that separates a great watch from a throwaway cheap one. And he did this via sign language, having lost his hearing at the age of ten. Grandpa Walker sounds cool. If he was still around, I’d be looking to interview him.
Indeed, after his grandfather died, his watch was lost, and after a lot of searching, Jonny realised that the only way to get something close to it was to attempt to design a watch himself. The Revival isn’t that watch, but what he learned in the attempt ended up being a springboard for his debut release.
And so onto the Revival. As a debut release, we’re reminded of those inspiring infants over at BVOR who, rather than aim for a crowd-pleasing semi-homage, instead decided to put out something you don’t generally see as a first outing for a microbrand.
We’ve already mentioned the square case, but it’s worth visiting in detail. Although we had a quick look at the Memphis Beat, Walker & Crown have loaned us The Clerk, Laser Drift and Electric Lagoon models (all of which are pre-release prototypes). They all share the same case specifications. 37mm squared, 10mm thick. Square watches naturally wear a little bigger and so the restrained 37mm sizing is pretty much perfect, especially if you’re a paid up member of the Terminally Skinny-Wristed Society like me. And while 10mm is pretty thin, the whole thing has a lot of presence. It doesn’t feel like a demure dress watch but rather something a bit more versatile.
What’s particularly nice is the use of contrasting polishing. The very top of the case, essentially the bezel if you can call something so thin a bezel, has a slightly angled brushed vertical polish, then on the faceted edge you get a full polish, and then it returns to a brushed polish for the side of the case. There’s plenty of visual interest to it, and the case plays well with the light too. If it was all fully-polished, the watch would look a lot cheaper, and if it was all brushed, it might look drab. This combination works brilliantly and shows a bit of that design whimsy that we can never get enough of.
The Laser Drift is coated in all-black DLC (diamond-like coating), which dampens down the effect a little but not completely. You can still see that the angled chamfer catches the light, where as the top and side of the case mute it somewhat because the polishing is the same underneath the coating. That’s good to see as it’d be easy to cut a corner there.
The crystal sits practically flush to the top of the case. Thankfully, it’s a sapphire crystal, which is good as the case offers very little protection to the top of it. There’s an anti-reflective treatment in place which does its best to handle glare. The Laser Drift’s black dial does make reflections a little more apparent, but none of the watches struggle to be usable in daylight.
Now, normally we’d start with the dial and go from there, but when you’re reviewing a set of watches, it’s best to start with the characteristic they all share. Hence the case. But when you start to look at the dials, the windows of the soul when it comes to a watch’s identity, you can’t focus there because the Revival’s whole character isn’t just apparent in that area. It goes right back to the unboxing. This is where the Revival series really starts to shine.
Right from the off, it’s apparent that Walker & Crown want to offer an experience. The box that all four models comes in is gorgeous, a white dual-clamshell affair with 16-bit style pixel art in the corners. It’s up there, visually, with the Kompas but functionally more satisfying than any other watch brand we’ve unboxed. The ends of the box open up, dare we say in a Delorean-esque fashion, to reveal the watch, a clasp opening tool, an extra strap and, most notably, a cassette tape.
Okay, a quick history lesson for you digital natives out there. Cassette tapes in the ‘80s had a few functions. Primarily, they were a format for buying music on. They were small and easy to store but also had the hassle of vinyl (in that the music went across both sides, meaning you had to eject the tape and flip it half way through) but without the large album artwork and cool liner notes (although my cassette player chewed up my actual bought cassette of Far Beyond Driven, the greedy bastard).
They also had a pretty successful dual role as being the things that computer games came on back then too. Yep, if you wanted to play Manic Miner (ask your dad), you had to load it from a cassette, and that took like four minutes. Although it’s not much better with modern gaming. By the time you’ve sat through the publisher logo, the developer ident, screens of disclaimers, things telling you the game engine and audio codecs and everything else you have to deal with on modern games, this might have been quicker. LOAD “ ”, son. If you know, you know (hey, anyone got a good knee doctor?!).
However, the true purpose for a cassette was for the making of mixtapes. Essentially the ‘shuffle’ function but slightly more permanent. You’d get your cassette (usually a C-60 or C-90, the number referring to the amount of music it could hold in minutes) and then fill it full of your favourite songs from the radio or your other cassettes if you had a Hi-Fi (Google it) capable of tape-to-tape piracy. Mmmmm… delicious piracy.
Well, Walker & Crown hark back to that era by including an actual cassette tape. It’s a blank one (C-60 in fact), so if you’ve got the hardware to do it, you can fill it full of your favourite Kajagoogoo songs (to be fair, Nick Beggs was a MONSTER bassplayer). The cassette’s inlay does actually have a full songlist printed on it, with each watch getting its own list, but, for the purposes of not increasing the cost of the watch tenfold, there’s no music actually on the tape (the licensing would be brutal). But, in a very clever touch, the cassette inlay contains an NFC tag. Hold your phone up to the picture of the watch and it’ll send you off to a Spotify playlist based around that watch. It actually works!
That may or may not be of interest to you but, and this is important, it absolutely should be. That’s like the coolest thing we’ve seen in over thirty watch reviews. Is it a little unnecessary? Maybe. Will you even listen to the playlist? Who knows. But the fact it’s there is just so cool, Brewster. And it speaks to the brand’s sense of both fun and user experience. Sure, it’s a nice-to-have but the fact it’s there shows you that they’re not just putting out a watch here. They want it to mean to you what unboxing his first Swatch decades ago meant to Jonny. Throw in some ‘80s Pop/New Wave bangers, and you’ve got yourself the best unboxing experience you can get.
Aside from each watch having a unique look, they also have unique nicknames to them that further explain the mindset behind each piece. What we’ve come to realise is that none of the design elements is left to chance here; if there’s something on any of these watches, it’s there for a very specific, well-considered reason.
The Clerk AKA “The Strategist” is the most versatile of the four pieces. The dial is a flat surface with a gradient pattern going from pale to dark blue. In Breakfast Club terms, this is Anthony Michael Hall. Straight-laced but with some depth to it. Of the four, it’s the one I’ve gone on the biggest (metaphorical) journey with.
On the steel bracelet, the blues stand out a lot and can look a little ‘printed’, almost like late ‘90s Word Art (remember when everyone discovered how to do gradient fills?) thanks to pattern itself but also the lack of texture. I was certainly a bit unsure of it, as I generally can be about square watches. However, the box also includes a fairly vibrant blue leather strap and that combination really works. Suddenly the blue pattern appears more muted, a little more subtle. And when you factor in the metallic blue stick indices (with lumed batons at the cardinal directions), it all starts to look pretty special.
Of the four watches, this is the only one to sport a date complication. Deliberately. As the name ‘The Clerk’ suggests, this can work well in an office. There’s still that ‘80s swish to it, but it’s smart and practical. Something of an all-rounder. If it could speak, it’d love it when a spreadsheet comes together. But that’s very different from a watch being all-business in 2026. This is quirky now but would be less so in the ‘80s.
While the date window isn’t colour-coded to the dial (and nor should it be, as that can often kill legibility, especially for those of us with 1970s vintage eyesight), it is lumed, which means that it offers a similar lume profile to the other watches in the series that all have a simple lumed indice at that 3 o’clock position. Also, miss us with any criticism of 3 o’clock date positions. It’s the best position (and the best complication).
Each of the watches has a standard three-hand layout with baton-style lumed hour and minute hands and a stick seconds hand. The Clerk has the hour and minute hands lined in blue while the second hand is completely the same colour.
If The Clerk is the sibling that’s going to university, the Laser Drift is the one that’s got a pretty good side hustle selling pills at a nightclub. Also known as “The Dreamer”, this watch is entirely different in mood to The Clerk, despite sharing so much DNA.
The obvious difference is the black and red colour scheme. Coated in black DLC (both on the case and the steel bracelet) and sporting a black dial, this is the Ally Sheedy of the group. The shiny red indices add real drama, as do the red-lined hour and minute hands (the seconds hands fully red as per the colour-coding that all the watches use). However, it all sits on a textured grid pattern. This shows a little more boldness than The Clerk, but it’s still restrained in a way that’s cool without trying to be cool. It also speaks to more than just music, giving retro gaming vibes too, straight from the arcade.
The additional black leather/nylon composite strap, complete with red stitching, is a nice option too. It doesn’t change up the look quite as much as the other watches’ straps do, but it’s a little bit more stylish. I’m just a sucker for coloured embossed stitching though.
If I’m picking favourites, the Electric Lagoon might be it. Where the Laser Drift is a watch for a night out, the Electric Lagoon, AKA “The Rebel”, exudes confidence all day. From the wavy, textured dial to the bold greeny-blue colour, this watch pops. Electric indeed.
The green tint on the indices is really unique. It looks like green gold (a nugget of purest green!). Taken out of the context of the whole series, it’s so unusual, tricking the eye into thinking it’s some sort of rose gold before revealing itself. A paler green is used on the hands.
Of all four watches, this one looks the most sophisticated. And that ties in with a kind of New Romantic sensibility. This is a watch to wear if you’re looking to fix up and look sharp while still having a degree of flamboyance. And it absolutely sings when paired with the strap, which is a pretty close colour match for the dial. Right now it’s sat next to me at this desk (in amongst, I kid you not, a Citizen, a Mezei, a McQuaide, a Luthier and a Blessington as well as the Laser Drift and The Clerk) and it keeps catching my eye.
Last up is the Memphis Beat (”The Creative”). Named after the Memphis Group art movement rather than being tied to the music of the genre, this has a sort of Pop Art look. Bold splashes of colour contrasting on a white dial. This has that kind of Saved By The Bell, happy late ‘80s look. It’s arguably a tad Tiffany (of ‘I Think We’re Alone’ fame) for this gristled old reviewer, but it’s certainly super confident and extremely design-forward. Instead of a full textured dial, this has a layered circular frame that adds depth to the watch and a nice silver-y finish.
The only toned-down element of this one is that the hands are colour-coded in a rather simple silver/grey, which actually works well in contrast to the bright colours of the dial.
Returning to the series as a whole, all the watches sport the same 5.5mm-sized crown. Maybe a tad small for some, but designed to fit the faceted sides of the cases. It’s a screw-down affair which operates the Miyota 9000-series movements. What’s great, and again speaks to the detail-oriented, no-compromise approach to the watch, is that the no-date watches (Laser Drift, Electric Lagoon and Memphis Beat) use a 9039 movement while The Clerk uses a 9015. That means there are no ghost date shenanigans even though it would have been so easy to cut that corner.
Both movements are solid, premium choices. 42-hour power reserve, hacking seconds and a flowing 28,800 VPH sweep. It’s a popular choice among microbrands for a reason, and while an 8000-series Miyota would have been acceptable, it’s nice to get the superior movement. It is a slightly noisier movement, in terms of rotor noise, but that bothers me about as much as the idea that Russell Brand might be a bit depressed these days. Who cares? If you’re half-bat or grew up on Krypton, I feel bad for you, son. I’ve got 99 problems, but rotor noise isn’t one.
Another unique touch is evident on the back of the watches. Instead of an exhibition or engraved caseback, each of them has a printed section that says the name of the watch and the series. What’s interesting is that while three of the watches have ‘Revival’ written in the larger italic font, and the watch name in smaller block capitals, The Clerk reverses that. Now, you might think that’s a mistake, but it’s never a mistake with this brand. The Clerk is designed to stand apart from the rest. The date complication, the flat dial and the calm, calculated demeanour. The information on the back is presented just slightly differently, but it’s all for a reason.
Walker & Crown have confirmed some adjustments from these prototypes. The most obvious one is that while all the dials have the Walker & Crown logo in the top half and ‘AUTOMATIC’ written below, the additional ‘10 ATM WATER RESISTANCE’ is not going to be present on the full-production models. That’s a pretty welcome change (someone get me in touch with the Lead Designer at Casio so I can get them to drop THIS BULLSHIT), although that information being placed on the dial was originally a throwback to ‘80s watch design from Jonny. Apparently, some people have had issue with the logo being a crown. That is, of course, an impossibly dumb observation. 1) Rolex don’t own crowns. 2) The crown here also works as a ‘W’. 3) If you ever find yourself simping for a major corporation, check yourself in for massive amounts of therapy, you sorry bastard.
On the back, these models also have unit/batch numbers (making them deliciously limited editions). A smart change there is that those numbers will now be engraved, not printed, which makes sense on a limited run.
A technical change is that the stem of the crown will also be thicker on the production models, adding further durability to them. So far I’ve never had a stem snap on me on any watch, but you have to appreciate the future-proofing there, and it speaks to Jonny’s wife Colette’s involvement as Co-Director and Quality/Risk Manager. The Clerk to Jonny’s Memphis Beat.
We’ve got to talk about these bracelets. Now, this review is already far too long, but I’m an Electric Lagoon-wearing rebel, so let’s gaffer tape this pulse rifle onto that flamethrower and go all the way in to the nest.
The decision to include both in each box is a masterstroke, and it’s remarkable just how much variety and character these give you. The bracelets are excellent. They’re a bandolier style, meaning you’ve got solid links throughout, and while they also have some removable links, that’s mostly unnecessary as they also have sliding clasps. However, unlike other sliding clasps, these aren’t the world’s most awful chore to deal with. In fact, they’re a breeze. Walker & Crown include a little tool for popping them open (although I’ve used a guitar pick to do it), but that’s always the easy bit. The bit that unquestionably always sucks is closing them, but here they close pretty easily. Somebody needs a Nobel Prize for this.
The bracelets are very comfortable (and easy to adjust as much as you like thanks to those clasps) and they hang on your wrist perfectly because the case doesn’t have lugs (or at least it has integrated ones). This is a game-changer. You get the ideal balance. I’ve got wrists flat enough for you to put lemon and sugar on, but these bracelets keep everything in place. And, if you’ve been cursed with wrists even smaller than me, you’ve even got some removable links. Nice.
It would be a shame then that I mostly tend to prefer the look of the straps, but actually, they’re pretty good too. The Laser Drift’s strap is nylon on top and leather inside while the other watches are Saffiano Leather. The lack of lugs is a little more of a weakness here as you can get more pressure across the wrist than from bottom to top, which can mean the watch initially sits a little above the wrist, but that’s something that will break in over time. In the meantime, I found that I had to wear them one adjustment hole tighter than I normally would.
But I found them to be transformational on both The Clerk and Electric Lagoon. They are such perfect matches for them and, in my opinion, elevate both watches. The bracelets feel great and look fine; these feel fine but look superb. And it’s all good because switching them out is a doddle thanks to everything having quick-release springbars because, of course, they do. No corner-cutting.
In terms of negatives, there are very few. There’s not really anything ‘wrong’ about the watch. You’re either in or you’re out. The BGW9 lume, while initially quite bold, does seem to drop off quicker than some of my collection’s lume champions. The crown is a little small perhaps but I can’t say I had any issues with gripping it and it’s unguarded (which is a good thing). The small size makes it look better too.
The white flying dog-faced dragon thing in the room (look, I was too busy watching Evil Dead to watch The Never Ending Story) is that not everyone loves square watches. That’s just a fact. My initial worries of them looking a bit smartwatch-esque evaporated pretty quickly (The Clerk is the closest, but it’s not really a thing, especially on the strap) and eventually those sweet ‘80s vibes won me over. And while I’m not much of a square watch guy myself, these did win me over. Not in an algorithm-pleasing ‘this watch really surprised me’ way but in an organic one where the list of cool things about it kept growing with observation.
Whatever. At £379, these have been priced fairly. The wishlist of specs that we all have is here. The sapphire crystal, the Miyota movement, the quick-release bracelets. The sizing, the versatility, the boldness, the story. Everything is just where it needs to be. If Walker & Crown keep putting out watches like this, the future’s going to be so bright they’ll have to wear shades.
This has been an interesting and long review. Along the way, the pecking order of the watches has shifted. In reviewing three of them, some have been on the top, some on the bottom. The switch over to straps radically changed my view of one of them (The Clerk). The one that initially spoke to me the most (Laser Drift) got overtaken by the others. And the one I least expected to like (Electric Lagoon) went from being initially immediately quite attractive when I first saw it, to being transformatively gorgeous on its strap. I thought the Laser Drift was Ally Sheedy, but the Electric Lagoon was Ally Sheedy after the makeover. And maybe, after all this, the real Ally Sheedys were the ones met along the way.
4.5 out of 5.0 stars
Pros:
+ No compromises on spec
+ Epic unboxing experience
+ Decent price
+ Excellent bracelets and very attractive straps
+ Another UK brand doing great things in the scene
+ Perfect proportions and an excellent lugless fit.
Cons:
– The appeal of the watches isn’t always immediate (reading a 3000+ word review should help though)
– Lume performance could be a tad better
– The look is pretty divisive.
Summary:
Anytime you throw back to the ’80s, you’re at risk of parodying it. The Revival, however, does it tastefully and with real heart. Every aspect of the journey has been considered and it shows. The decisions made, both technical and design, stand up to scrutiny and it never, ever goes full Cyndi Lauper.
JUST THE FACTS
Availability/Options: Okay, this is a little complicated. The Clerk and the Laser Drift (the two most different watches!) both release at the end of September in initial batches of 100 each. The Electric Lagoon and Memphis Beat will follow in later release, most likely in early 2027. Ultimately, 200 of each are expected.
Brand: Walker & Crown
Model: Revival
Style: GADA
Case Size: 37mm by 37mm (no lugs)
Movement: Miyota 9015 and 9039
Material: 316L Stainless Steel case
Lug Width: 22mm
Band Type: steel bracelet and leather strap
Price: £379
These watches were sent to us on loan by Walker & Crown and they’re reading this review at the same time everyone else is.