Social Studies

If you don’t know, stream the goddamn track.

I had the pleasure of catching these dudes at the Earl a couple of weeks ago, and my dick was inserted into the dirt. Not knowing anything at all about the outfit prior to going to see them live, I was immediately impressed. The tracks are dark, spacey, ambient and well-assembled. The flows are abstract, articulate, intelligent and weird.

The beats are put together live in a mad scientist manner by Chris Devoe. A solid mixture of pre-recorded synth sounds, samples and various other rhythmic devices cued on the fly via Moog and an Apple notebook. Homeboy looks as if he’s on a different plane of music consciousness whille performing the science experiments that are Social Studies. Mr. Devoe has a tight grip on ebb and flow. Sometimes the music is skeletal with very little instrumentation and percussion. Other times it’s a dope dance beat with many layers of color and dimension that you could not help but nod your head to.

And the ying to Devoe’s yang would be the MC of the group, Zano Bathroom. Hands down my favorite name of all time. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Bathroom on several occasions before the show, all the while not having the slightest inkling of what the dude was capable of with language and cadence. Never did he mention he was a musician (which I have infinite respect for), and I came away from those few meetings under the impression that he was a very laid back, unassuming fellow. And I suppose off stage he is. On stage it’s quite a different story. This cat is perhaps the Jekyll and Hyde of Atlanta hip-hop. And it fucking rules. With an extensive vocabulary and really obscure pop-culture references, Bathroom had me hypnotized. He’s got a command of the stage and microphone and he’s got some of the wittiest between song banter I’ve heard. Most of what Bathroom does is freestyled. It’s not so much about lyrical content as it is using syllables as a rhythmic instrument. And it’s quite refreshing.

I think what I like most about Social Studies is that they are not what the layman considers Atlanta hip-hop. It’s not status driven. It’s not about slinging weed. It’s not “Dirty South” bullshit. It’s fucking art. I like that they play shows in the East Atlanta Village. I like that they fit better on a rock bill. I like that they’d be at home on Definitive Jux. And they deserve it.

Their record is called Proxemics. I demand you purchase it and be educated. You can start the cranium expansion early by streaming “Assignment Two” below. You’re fucking welcome. - latestdisgrace.com

Chris Devoe and Zano Bathroom (née Eric Ludgood) express humble gratitude toward the local rock scene. Together, Zano and Devoe make up the experimental hip-hop duo Social Studies, an act more likely to split a bill with a rock band than with those among Atlanta’s indie hip-hop ranks. “There’s definitely more support for what we do coming from the rock scene than anywhere else, but that’s where we’re from,” says Devoe. Social Studies’ latest CD, a mixtape titled Proxemics, even features a deconstructed rhythm from the Black Lips’ cover of Jacques Dutronc’s “Hippie, Hippie, Hoorah,” chopped and buried in a mire of abstract beats.

Social Studies' Proxemics finds Devoe crafting dark beats sculpted to fit Zano's rapid-fire, mostly improvised lyrical flow, creating a sound that the duo dubs "gothic snap music."

Since 2005 they've worked together, fostering a Dada-esque approach to cerebral hip-hop. Initially, the idea behind the recording was simply to document the chemistry that exists between them, but soon morphed into a mixtape. "I wanted it to get people's attention with recognizable musical elements, things that we really like," says Devoe. "Things like the Cure and Dem Franchize Boys are important in our musical developments." With Proxemics, every sound has been manipulated to carry their personal touches. The musical backdrop of the disc is a pastiche of chunks from such songs as the Cure's "A Forest," Bone Crusher's "Never Scared," and the Horrors' "Sea Within A Sea," all twisted to flow with a swift, stream-of-consciousness pace that matches Zano's brainy, complex rhyme schemes.


The CD functions like a hybrid of Lil Wayne's Da Drought 3 mixtape set to the tune of Freestyle Fellowship's Inner City Griots. On the surface, the flow comes across a bit cumbersome at times, but each word rings with dizzying momentum. Eighty percent of Zano's lyrics are completely freestyled, he says, which infects his delivery with an intense sense of urgency. "I'm not opposed to writing things down," Zano explains. "I just have a hard time memorizing what I write. So what does end up sticking are certain cadences rather than the exact wording."

His wordplay often mashes cryptic verbiage with a distinct intention and open-ended freestyle. Instead of titles, the songs are labeled with asSelmanaires and Social signment numbers. On "Assignment 2," he launches into commentary on hip-hop's constant push to bring back the old-school, spouting, "The old school don't need no surrogates, though time is a linear the past is permanent/This dirge is an urge to invest more ergs to subvert the inertia of works you worship."

At times, Zano's lyrical excursions run so rampant that he has to keep them in check. "I have to rein it in or I'll start rhyming stupid things, like 'Fred sat on his head...'."
- Creative Loafing Atlanta