A long, lazy YouTube trawl yielded some clips from Jeff Bagato’s 1999 film The Blab, which features Baltimore performer-poet-writer Mary Knott, who, among other things, is part of The Dirt. Bagato, who runs the monthly Electric Possible show and is a fixture in D.C.’s experimental music scene, plays tonight as part of the group Spaceships Panic Orbit at the Sonic Circuits Festival. Here’s what Bagato had to say via e-mail about filming Knott:

I basically aimed the camera at Mary and let her talk. I can’t claim to have done much as a filmmaker, as there were no edits or camera angles or anything. The blurb was “One Woman, One Camera, No Cuts.” I can’t even claim the idea was original; an artist named Tentatively a Convenience had the idea of filming Mary for an indefinite period, but he
never did it. I thought that was a great way to document the experience of hanging out with Mary. She talks about meeting Perry Farrell, and her fandom for Marilyn Manson, hanging out with Gwar, and all kinds of stuff. The clips on YouTube are pretty funny, but some guy in Philly put them up there after he bought a copy of the tape from me. Since then, Mary has put a whole bunch of stuff up–you can search for her name or Geeky Dorks or the Dirt. I always figured Mary was destined to be a YouTube star, so maybe her time has come.

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Anat Cohen is one of the fastest- and highest-rising stars in the jazz world; the Israeli reedist is a rare breed, specializing in both tenor saxophone and clarinet. The former makes her an even rarer breed: female saxophonist. Cohen headlined a show at Bohemian Caverns with her quartet on Saturday night, and was a member of the United Nations Orchestra, which played at the National Mall’s Sylvan Amphitheatre on Sunday. That morning, we discussed her career trajectory over breakfast and Starbucks coffee.

How did you first encounter jazz?
Actually, there are a few elements to the answer. My father and my mother loved the American songbook, and in Israel there was always some hours that you could hear some of the old songs on the radio. It wasn’t necessarily jazz, but just the songs, the American repertoire. So I already loved the songs. And when I was about 12 or 13, before I played the clarinet, I played the organ–we didn’t have a piano in the house. And you don’t play, really, the classical repertoire on the organ, so my teacher got some songbooks that were like “Have You Met Miss Jones” and all kinds of songs that later on I realized were actually standards, again from the American songbooks.

And when I started playing clarinet, it was in a Dixieland band in the conservatory. And I loved it! I loved the feeling of it: it was really bouncy and happy, and I didn’t have to know how to improvise because in the book they had written solos. So that was my first encounter, officially, with jazz. And after the dixieland, when I started to play tenor, I started to play in the big band, so I really got the traditions of dixieland and big band, then I went to small combos and started to open up the music.

Also, my brothers [Avishai and Yuval, also jazz musicians], when I was still playing more classical clarinet, they were playing saxophone and trumpet and going all the way with improvising. So it was kind of a family thing.

I was going to ask about that. Growing up with musical siblings, was it competitive, or did you play together?
It wasn’t a competitive thing, ever. It was more of an interesting balance - for one thing we played different instruments so there was no competition as far as that. We’d just play: we were in the same groups, we went to the same conservatory, we played in the same dixieland band, big band, youth orchestra. So it was something we just did, we all took the same path and was kind of just natural that we do it without thinking, “Oh, he’s better; he got a gig, I didn’t.” There were no thoughts like that at all. Each of us did what we did. I think it was very healthy that my parents actually put us together.

Growing up in Israel, with the klezmer and folk traditions, was it a cultural thing that you would gravitate toward the clarinet?
No. I basically went to the conservatory because my older brother Yuval was already in it, and Avishai and I arrived and they said, “Pick an instrument,” and I had no clue really. And they kind of helped me decide which instrument, because that’s what they needed in the Youth Orchestra. “Well, we need more clarinets, maybe you want to play this one!” I was familiar with the clarinet, and said okay, but I didn’t go to the conservatory because I wanted to be a clarinet player.

Do you have a preference for one horn over the other, personally?
Yeah, but it depends on the music! For different sounds, different styles, I prefer different horns. The clarinet is softer, it’s more articulate; the tenor is more gutsy. And it depends on how modern, how old the music is. I belong to a lot of different bands, and I play different kinds of music, and each one demands a different personality. And each instrument offers a different personality. And ideally, I’d like time to also focus on the bass clarinet and the alto saxophone, but I haven’t been able to figure out how to do everything. But I will!

On your new album Poetica, you play a number of Israeli folk songs. Is that something you did especially for these discs, or is it a direction you want to develop further?
Well, I can only say for certain that I’m interested in it at the moment. Obviously it’s something that’s developed in playing world music, but also from a lifetime of loving these melodies. For instance, the song “Hofim” that’s on the album, I remember that when I was at Berklee College of Music, I would practice by playing that melody in all the keys, just because I loved the melody. So it was with me all the way, and when it was time to record Poetica, I started to think of repertoire, and all of these songs came out; we figured out how to give them a little more modern edge, and also work within tradition. It was just something I wanted to do.

New York, where you live now, is the capital of the jazz universe, but do you ever think of moving back to Tel Aviv?
New York is the capital of jazz, in the sense that a lot of information is passing through that city constantly and very quickly. And the question is, how long can I endure that fast pace? Because you always want to challenge yourself, you always want to learn more and be part of what’s happening, what’s changing, the new information and new music. And in the life of a jazz musician, that never ends. So moving back to Israel is the same as asking, “When will I feel that I can continue it now at my own pace, on my own journey, without the constant stimulation?” Because the stimulation is very healthy, it keeps you on your toes. But Israel, on the one hand, is where I’m coming from; it would be an ideal place to raise a family; my parents are there; I miss it a lot. On the other hand, it’s a crazy place. The fast pace there is a different kind of fast pace from New York: They have other things that keep you on your toes. I’m not ready to make any decision yet.

So what’s next for you after this festival?
I’m going to play at an Arts & Music Festival in Bloomington, Indiana, at the end of September, and then in October I play the San Francisco Jazz Festival and in Seattle, then I’m playing a whole week in November at the Jazz Standard in New York City. There’ll be two nights with a Brazilian Jazz Quartet, then two days with my own quartet. Two more days with the Anzic Orchestra, some repertoire from a forthcoming album. And the last night, the three Cohens, Yuval, Avishai, and me, we’re going to celebrate our new CD release. It’s called Braid and it’ll be out November 4.

The Beastie Boys have been making some weird choices lately: making The Mix-Up–their first album in three three years–entirely instrumental, putting out an entirely fan-filmed concert DVD called Awesome; I Fuckin’ Shot That!

And now an appearance on public television can be added to the list.

For those who missed out on the Beastie Boys’ entertainingly awkward guest spot on Charlie Rose last week, the interview has turned up on YouTube in its entirety. Does Rose seem visibly agitated or is that just how he always acts? Why are they talking about Sorbet? And can someone please explain to me what is going on with Mike D’s helmet of hair?

Mea Culpa: My preview of the Glorytellers show this Sunday at the Black Cat has become old news. In my write-up, I lament that the band has this damn fine batch of songs but has yet to find a label to put them out.

Turns out the Glorytellers now have a label.

Glorytellers’ Geoff Farina (of Karate fame) broke the news to Black Plastic Bag in a phone interview last night.

“[The album] is going to come out on Southern,” Farina told us. “It just got put together in the last couple weeks.” He adds that the album will come out in Europe in mid-January and in the U.S. a month later.

“I’ve been working on it for almost three years from beginning to write the songs to the end,” Farina explains. “We kind of held out for the right situation. There’s some new people at Southern that are really psyched about it.”

The Southern people should be. The songs posted on the band’s MySpace page recall vintage Jim O’Rourke pillow talk (“Awake at the Wheel”). “Tears Of” could be the most beautiful song Farina ever wrote. And “Trovato Suono” is just complicated fun.

The songs, Farina says, particularly the tricky interplay between guitars, and finding new rhythms that weren’t so indie-rock “took a lot of trial and error. Musically that was the most difficult part—the rhythms—to set the songs to a new feel. I was listening to a little bit of Philip Glass and Steve Reich. I wanted to have a bit more of a counterpoint going on, working with two guitars.”

“All these songs I wrote—I guess two years ago—I wrote them all at once, I was at this little hunting cabin in Italy where my wife is from,” Farina says. “I could go up there, just nothing going on, no e-mail, no phone and take a lot of time to really work long term, work all day on one song. I like to do that at least once a year.”

So what should people expect at a Glorytellers show?

“I don’t know,” Farina says.

“We sound more like a jazz band, super intimate-sounding I think,” Farina explains after some prodding. “That’s probably the best way to describe it, I think. It’s all songs from this band, all songs that are going to appear on our record.”

“This is our second tour. This one has been a lot better. The things I noticed about it– when it’s good, when everybody’s listening in the room, it could be this really delicate thing,” Farina says. “When it’s bad and when we’re at a bar, and everyone’s talking, it’s really bad where people can’t hear us. I’m used to playing in a rock band where you turn it up and blow everybody away…This one requires a bit more attention.”

So what do you with the loud talkers? “There’s not much you can do….We’re trying to get booked in the right venues, we’ve set more in art galleries instead of bars where there’s just people hanging out. We’re really trying to do spaces that are more event oriented. We would rather play for 20 people who really want to see us than 50 people who just want to sit around… It’s hard. Some towns don’t have venues like that.”

“I try to be a little tactful about it,” Farina adds. “I like to start the set with a positive feeling. I don’t want to tell people what to do. But I think what we’re doing is not as extreme as Fugazi or the Evens. We’re still playing bars.”

Including the Black Cat. “I’ve played there quite a few times,” Farina says. “It’s a good space for us I think.”

What we learned this week at Black Plastic Bag:

1. Deerhunter’s singer is all like, “eat my dick.”
2. Hook up John Stabb with love and/or money.
3. There is music for that raging case of swamp crotch.
4. Faraquet has a Brazilian (tour).
5. Eddie Money goes with lots of things.
6. You may have been conceived to the sounds of George Parker.
7. Pelican digs the Deftones.
8. “Blelvis by Wonderland” has a nice ring to it.

Pelican is a Chicago-based quartet that plays instrumental heavy metal. But Pelican’s definition of that term has shifted throughout its career. The band’s self-titled 2001 EP built an unlikely bridge between the stoner-doom sludge of Sleep and the delicate post-rock of bands like Tortoise, while on their more recent full-length breakthrough, 2005’s The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw, they experimented with more concise prog-influenced textures. Guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec recently spoke with City Paper on where they’ve gone with new record, City of Echoes.

Pelican performs with Earth and Priestbird Saturday, July 28, at the Black Cat.

City Paper: Why the move towards shorter, more concise songs?

Laurent Schroeder-Lebec: Any time we get around to writing a new record it always sounds different than the last one. The more you play with people the more your music has to evolve–bands can’t help but change over time. This one is a reflection on the past two years of touring. The songs are shorter it seems, but just as dense. To me the elements that are unique to our band are maybe still here.

I think we wanted to work with a producer [Andrew Schneider] that brought out our rhythm section. We wanted a recording that showed the interaction between musicians.

CP: How do you feel about being on tour with Earth—a band that has obviously had a lot of influence on Pelican?

LSL: It’s awesome, the evolution of that band and our band too. It seems like they hardly ever repeated themselves—they stayed true to their inspiration. Their new approach is very different than what they used to do on the first two Earth records. The first three are of a particular influence to me as a guitar player. Very droney and ambient but still had room for melody and hooks.

They aren’t the only band we’re on tour with. Clouds is doing a big chunk. Priestbird, Earth, Gargantula, 400 Blows, Fatal Flying Guilloteens. They’re just bands that we wanted to tour with.

CP: So you feel some career parallels with Earth?

LSL: Our band has evolved a tremendous amount with each record. We’re not stagnating. The cult around Earth was sort of built around people liking their huge monolithic heaviness–now they’re doing something that presents a different picture.

CP: During the tours for the last album you guys put yourself on a few package tours that exposed you to a younger crowd, right? How do you feel about playing in front of a younger audience?

LSL: I guess you’re talking about the “Taste of Chaos Tour” [a corporate "post-hardcore" package tour assembled by the creators of the Warped tour]. For us it was one of those things that presented internal opposition to the corporate and mainstream. I mean, the idea that Warped Tour [is] not being mainstream is a joke. One of the things that sold us on it was that we really liked the Deftones—the fact that them and Thrice really wanted us on the tour. There was a connection between them and us so we figured we would give it a try.

There are obviously certain things we would never do, like an army of one tour. But when we were all kids, we weren’t into the most uber-hip underground bands. Our drummer went to one of the first Warped tours and it kinda blew his mind.

CP: Do you feel like you’re beginning to get older than the majority of your audience?

LSL: I’m 29, our drummer [Larry Herweg] is 29, and [bassist] Bryan [Herweg} is 26. I feel like the majority of our audience is 21 and up. I guess it depends on the tour. Nobody is really feeling the strain of getting older–we’re pretty approachable band. We don’t just go backstage after the show.

CP: But are you nervous about putting your future in the hands of finicky teenagers?

LSL: I think the possibility of being in a touring band and making a living out of it came into our lives when we were older, so we’ve always had a modesty about it. Let’s not take this for granted, lets enjoy it while it lasts and if it doesn’t last we’ll just move on and do something else. In my 40’s I won’t have to look back and say I wasn’t gusty enough to do something I really wanted to do.

CP: How do you differentiate yourselves from the glut of instrumental bands that are making music these days?

LSL: There’s such a saturation of instrumental bands, they seem to be everywhere. In 2000 there really wasn’t very much at all. We didn’t even think about the oddness of being an instrumental band. We don’t actively try to differentiate ourselves. Maybe by association? We choose not to tour with instrumental bands very often.

I think there’s not that much of an effort to differentiate ourselves. The effort goes into just writing the music that you know is yours and hoping that that’s enough of a differentiation.