Cracked Refraction ties its complex knots with infectious vigor and a predilection for playfulness. Wrack’s melodies are slithering and serpentine, and the music is built of smaller segments assembled in what can seem a slapdash manner, with all sorts of jutting ends and unexpected collisions. What Bruckmann’s done, though, is intentional, placing his players on different planes, with straight lines failing to meet, runs of notes ricocheting at impossible angles, and expected avenues folding in upon themselves. . . Unlike some ostentatiously adventurous jazz, Cracked Refraction rarely gets so wound up in itself that the listener feels like a third (or in this case, sixth) wheel. There is feeling here, and it’s music made by humans for humans, in which a high degree of difficulty brings rewards not just to those doing the playing, but the audience at home following Wrack along their tangled paths.  - Adam Strohm (Dusted)