In Conversation With: Crisis Public Relations

What happens when a music critic, two poets, a Nashville transplant, and a former Migos labelmate all come together?

Photo courtesy of CPR

Good morning!

We’re in for a treat today; NYC-based Crisis Public relations stops by to talk about their new EP, how they got here, and what’s coming next.


The pitch: A self described “NYC-based firm consisting of a former Migos labelmate, a pseudonymous music critic, two sister-poets, and a Nashville-to-Brooklyn transplant” get together and make an EP that bends the definition of pop and all it’s variants. It might read like the set up to a hipster version of a dad joke, but is quite the opposite. Part experimental, part hyperpop, part screed against the hellscape we find ourselves in, Life Rights is quite a ride.

My on ramp to the band first came this past fall when I was turned on to their “Out the Window” single, which we had a chance to feature on playlist 316. This past week, they released an EP, Life Rights, which is fantastic.

Trying to define the band’s sound has proved tricky for me. I know my way around a keyboard, but with each track, my list of possible influences and reference points would shift. That makes for tough review writing, but an awesome listening experience, and I wondered if it was by design. This is after all a group that set out to challenge assumptions and the status quo.

We’re interested in persona, we’re interested in production, we’re interested in obscurity—all things that might scan as “less authentic.” But “Crisis Public Relations” and “Life Rights” are phrases that read as clinical, but the component words are all quite meaningful.

I recently had a chance to chat with the band via email. In our wide-ranging discussion, we talked about the band’s origin story, the record, and what’s coming next. Our chat has only been lightly edited for grammar and flow.

KA—


Congrats on the new record! Can you walk us through the backstory of how this project came together?

Three of us—Reggie, who sings and plays guitar, Isa, who sings and produces the songs, and Meg, who also sings, plays guitar and writes lyrics—moved into a house together during the COVID pandemic. We started jamming most Sundays, gradually inviting friends, including Meg’s sister Eleanor and John, who now plays bass, to join. In 2023, the project started really coming together, and then in 2024, we met Noah, who plays drums, through mutual friends.


On your website, you describe the band as “a new NYC-based firm consisting of a former Migos labelmate, a pseudonymous music critic, two sister-poets, and a Nashville-to-Brooklyn transplant.” Say more, please.

You forgot the food content creator, Noah! It does what it says on the tin. That’s all literally true. Isa was signed to a 360 record deal when they were 18 years old, Reggie is not who he says he is, Meg and Eleanor are sisters and published poets, and John was performing as a folk singer-songwriter in Nashville for several years before he moved back to the East Coast.


Photo courtesy of CPR

How is this EP different from previous outings, or to be more specific, work band members previously released?

This project has aspects of each of our styles, but it comes together into something new. For instance, this music is still really lyric-focused, but compared to, say, John’s solo music, it’s much freer from traditional narrative and song structures.


I can hear a few different artists that might’ve been an influence. Were there any specific bands that informed the sound on Life Rights?

Our inspirations are pretty varied; CPR is made up of a lot of members with different tastes. “You’ll Be Fine” was definitely influenced by the Jamaican diasporic sounds on labels like Trojan Records, and also the RnB-gone-reggae sounds of ‘90s and ‘00s radio. And the ending of the song breaks down into an almost Pinegrove like acoustic indie rock thing, which breaks down into pure ambient noise.


NYC is obviously a massive scene, but what’s your orbit like? What other bands are in it? How (relatively) close-knit are you all?

In our non-CPR lives, we all have various different scenes we travel in—Reggie writes a lot about all kinds of different scenes, and John works at a conservatory. Noah collabs with indie musicians. It’s TBD what the CPR scene is, but we loved performing with Sister, and Jude Johns recently, and we always make a point to see acts like Asher White and Grumpy.


For anyone new to CPR, what’s the one thing you hope they walk away with?

Sometimes, it feels like social media algorithms put pressure on musicians to manufacture “authenticity” to compete for attention, to grab people with the most intensity possible. So a lot of tears, a lot of “here’s a song about the time I saw my dad run over my dog.” Some people really make that work, to be clear. But we’re interested in persona, we’re interested in production, we’re interested in obscurity—all things that might scan as “less authentic.” But “Crisis Public Relations” and “Life Rights” are phrases that read as clinical, but the component words are all quite meaningful. Similarly, we hope that people see that these glossy songs were all made with care.


What’s next for the band? What’s 2026 look like? Back in the studio? On the road?

We’ve talked about doing a couple weekenders in other cities in the northeast, but mainly we want to be making a lot more music. We want to rent out a practice space and dial in the CPR sound. Noah played on the last two songs on the EP, “You’ll Be Fine” and “The Subletter.” Production is a huge part of our sound, so the next step is finding our groove in the room and working that into our records. In 2026, we’re also looking for someone who can reprogram a printer to print sheets of music so we can incorporate that into the show… so if that’s you, please message us.


Last one, just for fun; I bump into you as you walk out of the record store. What records are you carrying?

Reggie is probably carrying something from Mississippi Records. Isa bought 15 unfindable-online $1 records in the hopes of finding sample gold. John’s probably holding some sensitive folk record about, like, the light through the leaves or whatever. Meg’s holding the collected works of Eileen Myles. Noah’s carrying a world-class sandwich he personally made.


Listen:

Crisis Public Relations | Life Rights (2025)

Right-click the record to listen via Bandcamp.

Image preview

Life Rights is out now. You can grab your copy here.

Thank you to CPR for their time, and thank you for being here.

Kevin—

Are The Stone Roses the Most Overrated Band in This Tournament?

The Best record of 1989 Day 41: #7 The Stone Roses, The Stone Roses vs. #122 Lounge Lizards, Voice of Chunk

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Stone Roses and Lounge Lizards


Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—


If this were a tweet, I’d sum up this record thusly: Incredible first three tracks. Pretty weak run in the middle, before pulling out the flat spin and redeeming itself. Things are capped off with one of the filthiest grooves of the era. Particularly good if you happen to be off your face while listening.

Well, Twitter (still not callin’ it X) is an absolute dumpster fire. You’ll have to bear with me as I work my way through the reocrd.

The Stone Roses (the band) and The Stone Roses (the record) were both served up to us fully formed as things we were somehow required to like. I’m not sure who the invisible tastemakers were who deemed it so, but here we are. And there we went—to Tower Records to each get a tape or CD of our own. Copies just wouldn’t do, you see.

So! You have a record with absurdly high expectations, PR buzz ripping through my part of the world, and cassette in hand. Now what?

Well, you should know that (depending on mood) your Fast Forward and Reverse buttons are going to get a workout. The opening track, “I Want to Be Adored,” is a slow burn, building up slowly until bursting open with some of the best sounds on the record. It’s short on lyrics and long on mood, and it’s awesome—though I’m not sure I would’ve slotted it in at A1.

“She Bangs The Drums” is a lovely bit of pop that sounds like the band either rooted through their parents’ record collection or fell into a time machine set to 1967. It’s bright and “up,” a strong contrast to the moodiness on the rest of the record. It’s a goofy love song about a guy in love with a girl drummer, but hey, who wouldn’t want that? “Waterfall” is…okay… It rounds out a solid opening trio. And here’s where things take a turn…

“Don’t Stop” is frankly awful, with “Bye Bye Bad Man” only slightly better. At 53 seconds, “Elizabeth My Dear” is about 52 seconds too long.

The opening riff of “(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister” sounds like another song, and trying to figure out what it is has been driving me bonkers. If you have any ideas, please comment!

At any rate, the song isn’t terrible. And it’s not awesome, either. Better than the three that precede it, but that‘s a bar low enough to be a tripping hazard.

Right about the time your fast-forward button will be begging for mercy, comes ”Made of Stone,” and not a moment too soon! It’s strangely uplifting and a nice break from what we’ve just been through. While looking at the lyrics, I learned this track is supposedly about the car crash that took artist Jackson Pollack’s life. Go figure.

We’re right back at it (hitting buttons, that is) for “Shoot You Down.” This strikes me as one of those songs someone brought to the studio and either made a compelling case for or lost a bet. Dealer’s choice.

I vaguely recall a bit of indignation at “I Am the Resurrection.” 1989 America was a particularly pious one, and thinking about it now, I wonder if that became part of the record’s appeal for us? Nothing ships units like a bit of rebellion. At any rate, opinion on the track itself was split in my circle, with people either really digging it or barely being able to stand it. I was firmly in the former camp, and still am. It’s not the best song on the record, but no matter, it still works. At 8+ minutes, it’s entirely too long and does devolve into a weird jam band type thing, but in 1989, this was about as close as I was gonna get to digging anything of the sort, my love for the Grateful Dead still being several years off.

The original release didn’t include “Fool’s Gold,” but I’m gonna call an audible and pretend it did. Why? ‘Cause it’s incredible, that‘s why. I know it‘s not for every taste, but it was right up my alley. Mani’s Bass? On point. Reni’s drumming? Off the charts. John Squire’s guitar work is good too, but it’s the rhythm section that carries it.

That this record is seeded at #7 for this tournament tells me two things: nostalgia has a long shelf life, and that maybe there was something to that PR campaign I mentioned up top. If nothing else, it’s got a long tail. This is a solid record, but is it #7 seed good? I’m not seein’ it.


When I think of jazz, I usually think of either Thelonious Monk or the poppier side (e.g., George Benson). The sort of “this is a work in progress, and we’re not really sure where it‘s going, but we’ll have fun along the way” stuff is kind of a blind spot for me. Doubly so anything made after the Eisenhower administration. It always feels like a squonk too many, or just dissonant enough to turn me off. The idea that you‘re supposed to see the notes between the notes (or whatever) always felt like a papering over for what was most likely a jam session by the local chapter of psychonauts.

There’s a third lane as well; the one that evokes images of places like New York at dawn, the sort of grainy image with the early light of, say, 6 AM, a taxi (obvs), and steam coming up through the vents. It’s this sort of noir imagery that I couldn’t shake the entire time I listened to this. It’s the sort of record that could only be made in NYC (note: I haven’t looked to see if it was or not).

Sure, there are plenty of squonks and odd notes, and a few tracks suffer from a touch too much sax (‘Sharks”), but there are some fun things like elements of blues here. “Tarantella” is what you’ll hear as you’re walking into the best funhouse you’ve ever been to. “A Paper Bag and the Sun” is almost too esoteric for its own good (notes between the notes and all that), but somehow managed ot become my favorite track on the record.

In the end, that smiling sneakiness is what made this such an enjoyable listen. Will I come back to it? It beats me, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find myself using it to soundtrack a Saturday morning breakfast. I would probably fast-forward through “Sharks,” though.


My vote: A lounge Lizards win would be a hell of an upset—and stranger things have happened— but in this case, I think name recognition will carry The Stone Roses far further than the record alone. And I need every win I can get, cheap or not. My bracket pick and vote will be for them.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—