Since the WWeek review of the record won't 'appen, a few "Notes on Sleepyhead":

This *is* "Portland rap", and in *no very good sense*. Compared to *aesthetiques* with some connection to Portland like Atlas Sound, Dutchess/Duke, Rail Road Jerk, and (for those *sub specie aeterni*) Austrian Death Machine, Sleepyhead is "Locals Only" material: *everyone* who lives in Portland Metro of *any* stripe has to produce "material" like this, and generally it's rather unlovely, especially from the most *dangerous* "MCs". "No Pussyfooting" is something you were told as a *serious warning* once, and though the "rhizomatic" striations of pastiche-language presumably might serve as a guide on "How to Date A Stripper"; but when purity of heart is to will one thing but you're not really Danish, things *don't always turn out* and "Sleepyhead" might be serious about his medication, yo, like *so many*.

On the other hand, a lot of "Left Side" figures in *better* places *just have* to produce mid-grade, mid-tempo material like this, and it might even be a guide to how "brothers" with dark pasts and tastes diverse might "work it out" (Eno-Fripp fans, "represent" briefly and *bravely*, actually). Basically, work rocks to this beat and the streets accept: something else is for *somewhere else*, but what J-Closer said is true on account of *long usage*: "what goes around comes back around", and one might think harder about who is screaming about what on "Washington School" and why all your dirt must needs end at the *state line* than whether elderberry blunts are the way to roll in the Portland joint -- or whether you *could really say that* to a girl once, provided you were willing to "accept the charges".