It’s incredible to observe how far Agriculture have made it. I had last seen them open for Chat Pile, playing a short but immensely memorable and fantastic set in May of last year. And here they are – not just fronting their own tour, but selling out Berlin’s legendary Berghain main floor!
The brutalist techno club, which seems mostly recognised by the mainstream for its mythically hard door policy, sometimes doubles as concert venue. This is especially notable as its sound system, consisting of large speakers that point onto the dance floor, is recognised even by the spot’s harshest critics as exceptional. As a Berliner, my view is that the door strictness is mostly exaggerated (if you look halfway acceptable on a dance-floor and bring a bit of nightlife fashion sense, you should get in without problem), but so is most of its notoriety or hype. It’s a techno club with a fantastic sound system – the rest of the mythological elements (the ice cream, the fetish action, the music picks) are not greatly improving my personal enjoyment. I enjoy the grungy charm of crammed basements and bubbly house or drum’n’bass – Berghain’s high ceiling, factory-like floor and minimal techno is always a little too sparse for me.
Sadly, I can’t provide any images for this assessment – Berghain has, still, a total ban on photography! Yes, even at concerts. I briefly recall while entering that, many years ago, there was photography done during a show I attended – an older gentleman at the entrance explains that there used to be a house photograph once, a long long time ago, now no more. It’s odd: if you’ve been a Berliner, chances are you have set sight on the club. If you’ve never been, there’s not just photos online, but even a full 3D scan that allows you to walk the inner halls of the club, even in VR if you’ve got a bit of a hang on that.
Referred to as “church” by its most resilient customers, the club heralds itself as sort of sanctified space. So yes, I am moody while assessing the club today. For those unaware: Berghain’s entrance leads to a larger space with a massive, U-shaped metal staircase that goes upwards. There, across from a massive empty space, is a fairly small-sized floor, for what most people will likely expect (yes: Berghain is not gigantic). To the right, behind a glass front, is a long bar at the far end, while nearer are a few seats and swing-type installations (also another staircase that leads up to the ice cream parlor).To the right is another, smaller bar with a nifty décor of inner-lit bodies, seats by coloured-glass windows and toilets. To the back, behind the hole, is an extended cage-like construct – I know it well, as this is where I parked myself during one Swans track at their 2017 show. Up above are large, crane-like machines and rails: some leftover factory gear. And in the front, finally, these massive speakers and a stage.
My moodiness vanishes quickly, as Healing Wound take the stage. The UK four piece from Brighton and Hove break open the night with an immense sound: blackened crust, grindcore and sludge mix into furious, punk-infused metal. From the atmospheric, immensely atmospheric opening parts by the bassist Dudley to the expressive and intense delivery of the incredibly versatile lead singer Max, the band present a modern, intuitive metal sound, familiar from Portrayal of Guilt (notably, Dudley wears their merchandise). Healing Wound whip up the audience, which aren’t quite in moshing mood yet but sway and headbang along politely, creating an incredible atmosphere in the room. The light show is equally fitting, giving the four piece a menacing glow, framing them in red and blue lights. Having released their debut album earlier this summer, I do expect the quartet to make further waves down the road: this is really, really good stuff, and I suspect the polite audience response (means: not fully unbound) might just be an attempt to conserve a little bit of energy before things fully unfurl.
So here come Agriculture, and I push to the front row: flanked by a Palestinian and a transgender flag on each side of the stage, framed in a little fog and bright, white light, the four piece are all smiles. Surprising, actually, as the last show time I saw them, in legendary punk venue SO36, they carried an energy between quiet bliss and threatening doom – especially bassist Leah B. Levinson, whose leering stare into the audience was borderline frightening made an immense impression.
But, on this occasion, as the band launches into their opener (an unfamiliar song), they all seem incredibly relaxed and joyful. There is already a little bit of audience movement, but then – with the follow-up “My Garden” – the pit explodes into a maelström, as Levinson taps the intro bass notes. Metal shows can be a bit unwieldy sometimes, but it’s clearly all fun behind me (it’s always good to see that an entire pit comes to a stand-still and empty space when somebody drops their glasses). As the band works themselves up into the second verse, vocalist and rhythm guitarist Dan Meyer dips into rockstar demeanour, calling out “Are you Ready?” – and the pit loses its mind, predictably.
Much has been written about Berghain’s sound system – including by me, above. But it bears repeating: the sound is absolutely, utterly fantastic! Not only is every note crystal clear, the specific make-up of the speakers also allow for the sound to be incredibly loud, while also not hurting the ears. The mix is simply mind-blowing, as each element of the instruments perfectly balances the whole. The guitars are aggressive, but not piercing. The bass is grim and the drums pounding, but never entering any notes that dominate the sound. Truthfully, it is one of the best mixed shows I can recall!
And on top of that, as the band shifts through the first songs of their latest album The Spiritual Sound, it becomes clear how well tuned in they are today: the musical dynamics between them are absolutely exceptional. The timing is spot on; the delivery incredible! “Flea” explodes into the dual-vocals of Meyer and Levinson, spoken words and screams, allowing Richard Chowenhill to play the first mind blowing solo of the night, flowing into the brutal “Micah (5:15)”, whose punishing hardcore rhythm drives the crowd into a frenzy. The band is all smiles, and Meyer especially leans towards the crowd, his guitar pointing like a gun, firing up the front row.
Surprisingly early, the band drops their reigning magnum opus: “Bodhidharma” is so thrillingly perfect that I vanish into the pit for a little bit. It’s fun to experience how the song’s push-and-pull dynamic – confronting the muscular chorus-sections with the borderline silent verses, alternating between heavy metal and what is best described an homage to Deerhunter’s “Earthquake” – impacts the audience, as the pit comes to a sudden halt, some still uncertainly shifting as they can’t fully assess the sudden ambience shift, only to erupt again with the next metal section. It’s immense fun! And once Chowenhill unleashes his immaculate solo, all hell breaks loose! I’m not a guitarist, but watching him play some absolutely strange configurations, hammering his fingers up and down both sides of the guitar at the same time to conjure a strange, wave-like movement, is just incredible!
As the song shifts into “Hellalujah”, Meyer showcases his immense vocal gift, suggesting once more that Agriculture owe a lot to folk music. The Spiritual Sound is meant to portray forms of an esoteric music experience, and the somewhat religious tone of these short folk moments, where Meyer is in dialogue with his guitar, hammers home the origin of the band’s compositions.
The doom-laden, sludgy “The Weight” allows Levinson to pour out all of her angst, slamming her bass into Meyer’s guitar at one point. Meyer is smiling, his eyes filled with a bright glow of joy. This is not a critique, but Levinson seems so lost in how moving her performance tonight is, she can’t keep up the same menacing expression as the last time I saw them. She seems to abandon the doom, and also embrace the momentum of the show. As during the final part of the song, she turns away from the microphone and shouts the final part towards drummer Kern Haug, her voice rings clear with fury and pain, but it’s not the same bitter, acidic tone I witnessed the last time – instead, it’s a cleansing ritual, a moment of grace and resolution! Indeed, this song marks the moment where I let go too, and completely commit myself to the songs and music in front of me – hence why some of the following recollections are a little hazy!
What I interpreted as an extended “Relier” allows the band a lot of space. Haug leaves his kit to sit down by the side during one quiet part, and listen as Meyer and Chowenhill play quiet, minimalist sections. Levinson, during these songs, finds Meyer, and the two connect visibly in their interplay, with Levinson playfully bumping her forehead into his shoulder at one point. These two seem completely conscious at this point that this concert is special, that tonight, their chemistry is off the charts, all while Levinson breaks the dense atmosphere with a crushing drone-solo! Later, Meyer turns to Haug, and the two play a lengthy instrumental section I can best describe as free Jjazz – or, maybe more accurately, a cross of no-wave and the goofy crossover style of Sun City Girls. It’s incredible stuff!
As the band finally enters the last stretch, they dive into the familiar duo of “The Well” and “Look, Pt. 1”. “The Well” is notable especially for Meyer’s falsetto delivery, which had the audience cheer at SO36 last year – now, it seems more like a moment of brief grace, as the audience is utterly silent, as Haug seems to meditate off to the side of his kit, before “Look, Pt. 1” breaks in with fierce shouts and annihilating guitars.
Not so much exhausted as elated, the band addresses the crowd, with Meyer announcing that they will play two more songs, and thanking the venue. It’s only then when I realise that the “no cameras!” rule has allowed for an immensely intense concentration towards the stage. Yes, this particular concert definitely benefitted from any lack of videos or photos! Still, as I watch the band, I can’t help but mourn that I can’t take images of them at this point – framed in the club’s brutalist environment, with all the fog and coloured lights, they have an immense aura that would have been spectacular to capture.
But before I can grieve too much, the group starts my favourite off their latest album: “The Reply” is every bit as heavenly and climactic as I had hoped it to be, Meyer pouring his full emotional range into the quiet mid-section, then pushing himself to vocal limits with the falsetto-part as the band rushes in, finally screaming out his final lines, arms outstretched, before all of them whip the song into its finale section – it leaves me breathless!
As the group quietly ready themselves for the final song, Levinson briefly wants to say something, but flanked by a grinning Meyer, who plays a few faint notes, she somehow loses her train of thought: “Fuck it! Happy Pride! Free Palestine! Trans rights!” The crowd cheers as Levinson calls for unity and empowerment, just before the band dives into a borderline hellish rendition of “Living is Easy”!
Insanely loud, the song pushes itself forward, from one crass explosion to the next! In its final moments, it feels as if the track never wants to end, pushing itself back to life again and again. And just as one thinks it is over, Meyer takes a step to the back, runs and leaps across the stage and mid-jump, whips out a chord! And still they just won’t end, pushing the song on and on and on again, until absolute exhaustion, or ecstasy! When the song finally, ascends into silence, the band seems almost baffled at what just occurs, with Meyer addressing the crowd and stumbling over his own words, as if he just witnessed a religious experience, somewhat overwhelmed. “Can we turn on the light on the audience? My god, you’re all so beautiful!” For one second, he seems close to tears. Then he bids farewell, the band exits, and the mass of an audience pours down the metal staircase, into the warm summer night.
The next day, the band takes to social media to declare that this show was, likely, among the very best they have ever performed. It’s impossible to disagree: everything seemed to fit, from the immaculate sound mixing to the musically flawless performance to the emotional density and the concentrated chemistry between band and audience. Maybe it was the lack of cameras, maybe it was the brutalist interior, maybe it was fate – tonight, Agriculture’s concept of their ‘Spiritual Sound’ has fully bloomed into something utterly exceptional!
