Reviews: Alphabet Stew and Sleepyhead

[October 29th, 2008]

^Alphabet Stew. Mentil Soup (self-released)

[HUNGRY HIP-HOP] Just minutes into Mentil Soup, the debut record from Alphabet Stew (a group concocted, naturally, from a host of PDX hip-hop luminaries, including Sandpeople members Al-One and DJ Sparks, producer Andy B, and DJ Wels), you get your first local name-drop: gone but still revered Northeast bar Billy Reed’s. And while the record is undoubtedly a product of the scene (“The Fridge” also gives a shout-out to this very paper), musically, it’s rooted 10 years and 3,000 miles away.

Mentil Soup is an East Coast-sounding record filled with Pacific Northwest signifiers; while Al-One spends a considerable amount of time reppin’ for his home city, Andy B samples vintage A Tribe Called Quest and Wu-Tang Clan. The production is very key-heavy, with lots of warm Rhodes chords, jazzy drums, and the occasional smooth-soul chorus that sometimes works (Zelly Rock’s hook on “Price is Right”) or falls totally flat (the cringe-worthy “handprints on your booty/ feels good because it came from me” line on “Handprints.”)

Though they claim to be “one of Portland’s more rowdier crews,” the record’s biggest fault is its lack of fire—too much of the first half relies on lazy rhymes and drums that just don’t kick hard enough. It’s not till the end that a few songs shine. Best of all is “Iocane,” a dusty, classic-sounding track that sounds like Gang Starr collaborating with Prefuse 73. With its stuttering, half-step beat, it pushes boundaries that some of the clunky earlier tracks could only dream of.

^Sleepyhead. No School (Dismal City)

[SLEPT-ON HIP-HOP] Sleepyhead’s Kevin Elder has remained low on the Portland hip-hop radar for reasons that are at best unclear and at worst downright confusing. The rail-thin Stumptown native has six years of spitting under his belt, with endorsements from the likes of Copy and Corban Lester to boot, and No School only further proves his ability to contend with the city’s finest rappers.

Most of No School’s production sticks close to Sleepyhead’s pre-established aesthetic, which favors synthesizers over instrumentation and shouted hooks over vanilla singsong. Though he functions best when rapping over something with a certain helping of grit, Sleepyhead drops consistently memorable rhymes on the album’s 14 tracks.

The LP’s centerpieces, “No Pussyfooting” and “Lost Gospel,” feature some of the finest examples of Sleepyhead’s comfortably aggressive flow, showcasing his ability to latch onto a beat and ride its momentum for all it’s worth. An unfortunate consequence of this strength is that No School tends to lag on its mid-tempo numbers, but when Sleepyhead is paired with an able backing track—such as on the Copy-produced “Move”—it’s hard to find fault with his performance.