I'm at Galapagos, listening to a normally-formidable set by new music ensemble So Percussion, when suddenly they just randomly start stacking paint cans and banging shit onstage. Everyone thinks they're just setting up for the next piece, until suddenly their conversations are interrupted by a rhythmic, increasingly noisy clamor. "Oh, is this the piece?" the girl next to me asks aloud. Fifteen years after his death, that bastard Cage is still causing mischief.