There is an irony of complaining about consumerism while I’m telling you to go out and consume an album is so thick that it doesn’t fit in skinny jeans; however, there really is a certain type of mental violence within our consumerist practices where we’re so time-strapped we ingest art almost accidentally. We put on music while working to pass the time. We put on an audiobook instead of enjoying a quiet walk in the woods. We passively live our lives through what art we choose to half-ass consume. What I love about Agriculture is how they actively fight back against this with their latest record, The Spiritual Sound, out October 3 via The Flenser. The LA-based group’s sophomore record almost makes you mad when you don’t pay attention to it. It’s like a dog that knows you are only partially into play time. Agriculture’s focus on detail and the moments that turn within each song from almost existential terror to ecstasy are only those that you can appreciate while you pay full attention.
Their debut was a dark, driven, existential, beautiful nightmare of black metal that refused to be just black metal. The Spiritual Sound feels like the seeds that were sown from that record are fully grown here, where this is and isn’t multiple things at once: black metal, screamo, shoegaze, experimental. That liminal quality and the push and pull feels essential to not only appreciating it but getting to the point where I finished the record with such a huge smile on my face. The journey and the destination are both the point. It’s extreme metal where emotional input and output are part and parcel with the extremity. That all starts from an interesting place, reminiscent of long-forgotten proto-meme William Hung’s American Idol audition.
“The way that I approach songwriting is it just has to be interesting to me,” guitarist/vocalist Dan Meyer says, “to be the kind of thing that I don’t understand and go back to trying to figure out why I’m drawn to it. I want to feel really compelled by it. My litmus test for how I think a song is working is how often I find myself wanting to listen to it and how good or how confused I feel while I’m listening to it.”
“I think that’s genre agnostic,” he adds. “The record, obviously, covers a lot of ground musically, and I don’t think it’s a particularly rewarding passive listening experience because I think it could sound crazy if you’re just listening to it. It’s just not for that. I think it’s a really cohesive record, but there’s really a lot going on there that’s not easy [to passively digest]. The foundation of all of this is that it has to bang.”
Guitarist Richard Chowenhill concurs. “For me, and especially when making this record, a lot of it was the pursuit of truth in a way, as in what’s true, what feels true to us, where we’re at right now. And this also speaks to the genre-agnostic thing that Dan was talking about. What feels true to the song and true to us? What’s an us thing? And reminding ourselves we don’t have to get wrapped up in the genre thing.”
Bassist/vocalist Leah B. Levinson has the view of genre almost like it’s pointillism: zoomed in or out, the results are fascinating:
“I look at all the styles that are in these songs, and if I squint my eyes enough, they don’t seem that different from one another. These [subgenres] aren’t that distinct from one another. I think we, as the music and scenes around them develop, they get a little bit solidified, and they become gate-kept, but they don’t start that way. The other part is then what do these genres do? I think all of us are initially drawn to metal and black metal because of what sorts of things it gives us access to: the big feelings, the intensity, the drama of it. That’s something that’s pretty unique to it as a modern musical form.”
We talk of ecstasy, which in the Gothic tradition was a form of mania often associated with either those in asylum halls or on the verge of spiritual enlightenment. Meyer wants to put up the distinction on what Agriculture is and isn’t doing and how that plays into the very human-focused ways he sees the world:
“Ecstasy is an important part of any spiritual experience. I also love that ecstatic, especially older literature, you often see it applying to people who are, almost like a synonym for a certain craziness. I think that’s maybe partially related to some of what we’re looking for on this record, in the sense that I think it’s music that’s trying to pull you a little bit out of the normal conditions that you find yourself in mentally. Ecstasy is the most beautiful and intense version of that. It’s not joyous black metal, and it’s not transcendent. I’m not trying to write something that’s going to make you feel like you’ve crossed into some spiritual bliss. There are moments that I think are blissful, but it’s more intense than that, at least what we’re going for. I don’t know if we get there all the time. Sometimes I think we do.”
“It’s more about this thing that acknowledges the extreme aspects of the living experience,” he adds, “the really extreme difficulty and the really extreme moments of joy. I think ecstasy is a word that combines those two things into one unified experience. I don’t think either one is left out. I think that’s what’s interesting to me about metal is that it does a uniquely good job of getting past words and into an aspect of just experience that has words, if that helps. I resist the term transcendent. We’re not trying to get you out of a particular state of mind or particular feeling, but rather to say that that experience, in and of itself, can be a profoundly meaningful one. And to me, that’s where the ecstasy is.”
“The ecstatic thing I can say from a more zoomed-out, global perspective on that,” Chowenhill shares, “heavy music has always been an ecstatic experience for me. I’ll never forget the first time I listened to Children of Bodom as a kid. Also, there’s something deeply ecstatic and beautiful about playing music with these people that I love, and getting to travel and play for audiences. Just being able to share this music, that practice for me is really important in my life and brings me an immense sense of joy and ecstasy.”
There’s real intention of creating a community of those willing and wanting to further the work of seeking meaning. Agriculture aren’t trying to make music that feels up its own ass or too self-important. Instead, The Spiritual Sound feels like an emotional mystery meant to be explored together, and definitely heard live if you get the opportunity. Whatever genre you want to call it, Agriculture excel at creating music with lasting power.
The Spiritual Sound is out on Friday, and you can preorder it from The Flenser. Follow Agriculture on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, and BlueSky for future updates.
Photo courtesy of Agriculture
