L.A.'s Kindest Metalheads, Agriculture, Bring The Love To The Sinclair

Grace Abdayem 
February 19, 2026 

Clad in vests and leather jackets, dotted with patches emblazoned with political statements and the names of metal’s heaviest bands, people of all ages lined up outside of the Sinclair in Cambridge one night in mid-February. The marquee on the 500-seat venue spelled the reason for the spiked and studded crowd lining up outside:  “TONIGHT. AGRICULTURE. KNOLL.” 


Fans held their phones out to the ushers to scan the general admission tickets to see Agriculture, the Los Angeles metal band touring behind their highly regarded 2025 album “The Spiritual Sound.”


Despite the band's 55,000 monthly listeners, a feature in Rolling Stone’s 2025 Albums of the Year, and a contract with the major metal label the Flenser, co-founding members Leah Levinson and Dan Meyer have taken to their fame humbly, both taking turns manning the merch table. The band mates, who call their genre of music “ecstatic black metal,” shed their apparently hard exterior to connect with their fans. 


As fans filed into the pit, the mezzanine remained sparse, indicating that everyone was excited to be demolished by the show. Members from other black metal bands mingled, recognizing familiar faces seen at local shows. 


The night's pre-show playlist consisted mainly of a jaded Bob Dylan, his voice entering new levels of peculiarity, crackling alone on tracks like “Love Sick” or accompanied by The Band on “Million Dollar Bash.” 





About an hour after the doors opened, a theatrical voice issued an announcement over the loud speaker, stating that the show was to start. “Before the pummeling of audio forces its way to your ears,” said the voice cheekily.


The first set of the night featured the Boston-based post-metal band Glacier. The band, featuring three guitarists, warmed up the crowd with a brutal wall of instrumentals. The bassist delivered lines of pure destruction, at times holding his bass to the sky like it was a holy object begging to be beamed back up. He brought the bass down like a hatchet, nearly missing the closest guitarist several times. 


The audience headbanged along at differing levels of exertion, some trying to protect the drinks they still had in their hands. Wordlessly, the band left the stage after their set to excited applause, before the audience was once again immersed in more Dylan. 



Knoll, a band serving as the opener for all of Agriculture’s East Coast shows, decorated the stage to resemble a gothic mansion. A maroon velvet curtain backdropped their performance, with several fringed black lamps surrounding the rest of the band. A black sheet of sheer material covered the drum set so it looked like it was covered in cobwebs. A trumpet hung off one of the many sporadically flickering lamps, waiting to be picked up by the lead guitarist. 


However, the band’s most striking visuals came from their lead singer, who purposefully resembled Nosferatu, with a pale complexion and long nails that surrounded his microphone like claws. The thrilled audience hung on every theatrical growl uttered by the gothic maestro. The crowd threw their hands into the air when he put an entire glowing lightbulb into his mouth. 




Halfway through the set, Knoll’s music triggered the pit, with audience members running in circles and flailing into each other. Once the band’s set ended, the singer dropped his terrifying facade, thanked the crowd sweetly, and chatted with the front row with genuine humility.


The maroon curtain came down, replaced by another tapestry, which depicted death as a figure, holding the arm of a kneeling man as they both stood before an open door. As Agriculture began to take stage, their crew placed several flags and signs around them. The stage was decorated with the Trans flag and signs reading  “Fuck ICE!” and “Free Palestine!” 


Vocalist and guitarist Dan Meyer amplified these thoughts in a brief speech. That preceded an unreleased song called “Living Is Easy,” which, Meyer said, is about what he likes to call “compassionate hatred.”  


Later he  spoke about the hopelessness the band has been feeling in light of the country’s political turmoil and violence. For Agriculture, relief has come in the form of their current tour, which has taken them from Kansas City to Minneapolis. 


“Everywhere we go, everyone's got ‘Fuck ICE!’ on the tip of their tongue,” Meyer said.  “Everybody’s got ‘fuck this stupid fucking Trump regime’ on the tip of their tongue.” 


For the rest of Agriculture’s set, they nurtured a crowd that wasn't just living, but breathing and bleeding. They listened intently, avid to be a part of the band’s raw and important conversation. 


Tension radiated off of the audience in waves, resulting in a cathartic swarm during “Flea,” a swelling song with lightning speed drums. They looked up to Meyer like a prophet as he sang his tender solo “Hallelujah, a break from the rest of the intense sound but still consistent with the set’s moving emotional journey.