So the trip was a delight. The biggest musical source of frustration was merely the plane rides: neither my old headphones nor the new ones (bought precisely for this purpose) were audible over the din of the engines. I know, I know - airplanes are loud - but o how i dreamed of a different way, o how i longed for it!

Beethoven was sold out on Sunday, so instead we hit the Upright Citizens Brigade for an hour and a half of outstanding long-form improv. It was my second time seeing "ASSSCAT," and it was certainly no less funny than the first. Appearances by UCB founder Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch, Horatio Sanz and Fred Armisen (as well as a host of other, non-SNL performers) spiced the brew, or something. We need to try the 'Harold' format in Montreal; there are a few people (Chris, Dustin - oh jesus, are they going to be gone? woe!) who would do terrific monologues.

Found a $2.50 copy of an Aroah CD in St Mark's place. She's a songwriter on Acaruela - sounds like the halfbreed child of Ani Difranco and Mazzy Star, or something. Still waiting to decide if I like it (I only "listened" to it on the airplane, which, as outlined before, uh, sucked). I almost cried at the sight of wrapped copies of this year's Kepler and Songs:Ohia records, going unsold (and for $2.50!), but couldn't find the heart to buy second copies for myself. A made fun of my sorrow, till she acknowledged that she had herself wept for unsold stuffed animals.

Damien Rice was a terrific show. Lacklustre openers (though Charlotte Martin will be a hit for the Tori Amos/intelligent-Jewel-listener crowd). He was there with full band - drums, bass, cello, and the lovely Lisa Hannigan on vocals. The songs from O came alive, and it was wonderful to hear Damien's music surrounded by people who not only knew it, but loved it. It was the last show of this tour, so midway through the encore, Damien declared the official show over, than critics should shut their notebooks, that the lazy should evacuate. He then went on to play six or seven increasingly silly, increasingly wine-stained songs. These included a surprisingly capable American spiritual, covers of "When Doves Cry," "Hallelujah" and Portishead's "Glory Box," as well as the svelte cellist's solo version of "Purple Haze." Damien said he was working on his new album (hooray!), and the little bit of new material sounded quite good. (One of the songs, however, was a mess - noise-by-numbers as an alibi for real emotion or craft.) He should be coming back later this year, and I'll try to catch him again then.

Oh - and, of course, Damien Rice played Letterman on Friday night. Which was very, very strange. Originally, he was slated to do Tuesday night - but got bumped by Bruce Willis. (At the show, he said he "Was glad, really," because he'd rather not share a stage with Willis' pro-war balderdash.) Friday it was, then - and with Tom Green (!?) as host. What the hell is Tom Green doing hosting David freakin' Letterman? As Tom put it himself, "everyone in Hollywood was busy." Still - to my great pleasure - the Ottawa boy did us proud, acting astonishingly normal, but still off-kilter enough to be engaging. He was very nervous, and must have been given threats ("If you sit there yelling "I'm the host! I'm the host!" for an hour, sucking margarine from a hose, your career is over, Green!") - and he certainly could have pushed the envelope a few centimeters further - but it was really great to see such a funny guy acting in a likable, non-infuriating fashion. It's been some time since Tom acted particularly human. Damien Rice then played two songs - an acceptable band version of "Volcano," and a solo take on "Cannonball" (which was actually, I think, better than the accompanied version at the show). I still don't know how what amounts to a self-released album scored a two-song spot on Late Night...

When I arrived home my Special Edition version of Hail to the Thief was waiting, but seeing as it's "copy protected," it won't play on my walkman. I'll have to rip and burn it. This shit is stupid. I'm still figuring out how I want to approach a review of it for TM - am considering asking several people to write 50 words (exactly), and collecting those... While I was in NJ, I missed Dan's Hail piece in the Ottawa Citizen - and I'm eager to read what he thought. Meanwhile, I'm not warming to the album as much as I hoped I would: it sounds great, really interesting to listen to, but I'm not feeling it as I did Kid A and Amnesiac. Resembles OK Computer in that way: HTTT seems preoccupied with a world that's noisynoisy, overrun with liars, cheats, gobblers and suits. Thom rants and raves - "dance you fucker" - about predators and prey, all endlessly birthing and gorging and dying... but I can't help but feel that my world is too empty, too full of open space, more wasteland than jungle. HTTT is about a place that jostles and speaks in mean tongues, whereas I'm living in a lonely reality that seems to rarely speak at all.

Where the hell is Julian?!

(Also: Public apology to Anne - I should have written you at least two emails by now, but instead I've been distracted and busy and lazy and stupid. Forgive me! I will write you soon!)