During the last song of The Cribs’ set at Japan’s Fuji Rock Festival, lead singer Ryan Jarman—voice cracked, guitar out of tune—loses it. Betraying his usually mild-mannered, blasé attitude, Jarman rips off his shirt and, as if ejected by the wall of feedback he’s created, jumps over the front of the stage. Swallowed by the awaiting hands of several hundred Japanese fans, numerous tense moments pass before he reappears surfing the crowd, hands mightily in the air. Unaffected, Jarman’s twin brother Gerry continues playing his bass in his hypnotic fashion while younger brother Ross smashes away on drums. Several minutes later, Ryan manages to claw his way back on stage as the set comes to its cacophonous conclusion, bringing to a close twenty minutes of balls-to-the-wall punk rock bashing mixed with Brit rock’s winning combination of bravado and catchy riffs. It’s sweaty, it’s brash, and it’s what Japanese music fans live for. They lap it up.

“That was probably my favourite show we’ve done in Japan,” Gerry beams a few hours later, clearly impressed with the reception The Cribs received from the locals. “The enthusiasm here seems to be more disaffected than in other places. Not to say naïve, but just a little more pure. When people enjoy something, they have no reservation in doing so.”

Sitting in the confines of the makeshift ‘backstage’ area, under the humid glaze of the Japanese summer and surrounded by the lush greenery of Mt. Naeba (a ski resort in the winter), the twins find nothing more appealing than the thought of being judged without reservation.

“I don’t want to put other people down because in other places we have fans who definitely go for it. I just feel like, out here, people are just less concerned with looking cool and more concerned with having fun.”

In sharp contrast to their Japanese reception, in their native England The Cribs are known for anything but the music. Helped by weekly reports by the gossip-mongering British press, the band’s association with Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos (who produced their last album Man’s Needs, Woman’s Needs, Whatever), former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr (who has joined the band for their forthcoming record), as well as Ryan’s relationship with MySpace phenom Kate Nash, take large precedence over the band’s music in the public’s mind. Put simply, this has left a bad taste in the brothers’ mouths.

“I don’t like associating myself with the British scene or what goes on in Britain in general,” Ryan pronounces, his thick Yorkshire accent betraying the passion in his words. “It seems like a very commercial market, especially with guitar bands. It seems a lot of them are depending on their Englishness to give them some kind of personality. That’s what they’re getting by on. Outside of the UK, and even in the British press, people just lump the bands together, and it’s annoying.”

“A lot of people assume we are biting the hand that feeds us, asking how we can put the British music scene down after it’s ‘been part of the reason you’ve been successful,’ but I think that’s bullshit,” Gerry adds, his eyebrows arching to convey his displeasure. “I don’t think the climate of the UK is any reason why we’ve been successful whatsoever. People will see in a few years just how bloated the corpse of Brit pop has become and we don’t want to go down with that ship. We’ve tried to disassociate ourselves with it. Hopefully, people will start seeing British bands as just bands rather than ‘British bands.’ It must be embarrassing for a band like Bloc Party to be lumped in with a band like The Fratellis. They’re totally different ends of the spectrum. It’s like one big unhappily family.

“In Japan, It just seems less affected.” He pauses, noting the repetition of his point. “Even if I’m naïve and if people only care about us because of where we’re from, I’m happy that I don’t know it and I can enjoy playing to them.”