John Cage related this anecdote: “One evening I was walking along Hollywood Boulevard, nothing much to do. I stopped and looked in the window of a stationary shop. A mechanized pen was suspended in space in such a way that, as a mechanized roll of paper passed by it, the pen went through the motions of the same penmanship exercises I had learned as a child in the third grade. Centrally placed in the window was an advertisement explaining the mechanical reasons for the perfection of the operation of the suspended mechanical pen. I was fascinated, for everything was going wrong. The pen was tearing the paper to shreds and splattering ink all over the window and on the advertisement, which, nevertheless, remained legible.” This little musing somehow rhymes with the spirit of BEHAVIOR’s '375 Images of Angels,' unique “musical” approach to punk. The very essence of punk is a contemptuous “fuck you” to convention anyway, or at least a troubled groping for new avenues of self creation. There is a simple beauty in deconstruction, in calculated naivety, in messes, in processes and in the plain night air of Los Angeles. '…Angels' dances like a dog shaking off a swim. '...Angels' is as deliberate as it is free. Don’t we all want this dichotomy in our lives? The drive to make our time our own and the permission to chase joy?