No, they're not actually Japanese—they're named after their keyboards. And no, that doesn't mean they're geeks—they don't even know about iPods. British Kraut-rock offshoots Fujiya and Miyagi are just a regular bunch of guys who follow sports, apologize too much, and happen to write the occasional Pitchfork-perfect record. Now they're gearing up to release their third album, Lightbulbs (Deaf, Dumb, & Blind, September 16) and hit the U.S. for a fall tour. Radar exchanged e-mails with lead singer David Best (aka Miyagi) to talk about the new record, the band's Miller Lite dependency, and why you shouldn't call him pervy for reading Proust:

Radar: You must be sick of name questions, but we have to ask: Your drummer, Lee Adams, is the only band member without a stage name. He must be feeling left out—even your bassist, Matt Hainsby, gets an ampersand.
David Best: We now want to be known as The Fujiya & Miyagi, with Lee as the The.

Duly noted. Legend has it you came up with the idea to form a band while you were all bench-warmers in your local soccer (football, if you will) league in Brighton, England. There's also a persistent rumor about you coming together because of a mutual adulation of mysterious British wrestler Kendo Nagasaki. What's the real story?
The football one. But we were certainly not on the bench. We were out there in the thick of the action. Steve tackles like a terrier chewing on a forward's ankles. Some would say I was more naturally gifted than him, but obviously I wouldn't comment on something like that. The Kendo Nagasaki angle was dreamed up when we got bored of the football story.

We've always wanted to go to Brighton. A lot of people feel the same way, apparently—the place is swamped with tourists. If we went there on vacation, would you hate us for it?
No, I wouldn't—I tend to stay in on weekends to avoid the crowds. The only thing that annoys me is when people just stop walking without warning in front of you and, as I am British, I end up apologizing for knocking into them. If a leaf fell off a branch and hit me on the head, I'd probably apologize to the tree. I think it's a form of self-defense. If you are constantly apologizing, it's less likely you'll get punched.

Speaking of getting punched, you're about to head out on tour with Crystal Castles, one of the more awesome electro-thrash groups at the moment. Is Alice Glass as hardcore in person as she seems? Does she bully you?
We haven't met yet. I think we are playing just the one show with them. I've never heard anything because I'm entrenched in old soul music and haven't been listening to anything else really, except for a few things. I like to see groups live before I hear them on record, so I'm looking forward to seeing what they are like. I don't think we have any reason to be apprehensive. I'm six-feet.

Let us know how that works out. So, what non-soul stuff makes the grade these days?
I really like the new Beck and Gnarls Barkley records. That song "Who's Gonna Save My Soul" is incredible.

We've learned the hard way that trying to decipher your lyrics is a quick and easy way to lose one's mind. They're tantalizingly cryptic—how do you write them?
I normally just think of something to write about and take it from there. I trim the words down to fit the music. Maybe that's why they don't make sense to a lot of people. I haven't got an agenda when I try and write lyrics. I'm just pointing out things the way I see them and trying to avoid using the easy way out, which is to be as vague and universal as possible. There's no fun in that.

So you're a writer first. Are you also a big reader?
I've got a few books on the go at the moment: Proust's In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower (sounds pretty dodgy but it's not like that—well, not yet anyway), Sweet Soul Music by Peter Guralnick, and Against Natureby Joris-Karl Huysmans. My favourite author is still [Vladimir] Nabokov, but Gogol and Proust are not far behind. I just need to read more of them. I can go for a year not reading anything, and then I'll read all the time.

You played an open-air show at New York's South Street Seaport last summer, then another show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in the fall. The indoor venue seemed better suited to your music.
The problem with the Seaport show from our point of view was that the sound was bouncing off the buildings. It wasn't our finest hour. It was like hearing a delay. I like playing outside though. We've played a lot of festivals so you get used to it. The worst thing is that it's bright so you can see people leaving.

And once it's been recorded, where do you ideally envision your music being played? It seems like good city music—an alternate soundtrack for Koyaanisqatsi or something along those lines. We like it on the subway.
I've been told it's good to decorate to. It gets the job done quicker. I like the idea of people listening to it when they are walking around. Maybe one day Sony or some other company will invent such a contraption.

You may be in luck. Speaking of contraptions, you told an interviewer that you were titling this album after "the lightbulbs cartoon characters get above their heads when they have an idea." We always thought you just had a thing for common appliances—photocopiers, keyboards, things like that—but now it turns out this is a cartoon lightbulb, and our entire theory is blown to hell.
I think your theory still has legs. There's only so much you can talk about a lightbulb, though.

That aside, you seem like a tecnho-savvy bunch. What's your favorite website these days?
I'm not very technical, I'm afraid. I like Sir Shambling's Deep Soul Heaven site and the Soul Detective one, too. But I spend most of my time on the Arsenal Football Club website. I'm sure Steve would say some rare synth site, or the West Ham one.

Where do you land in the digital-music-sharing debate?
I think it's good that people can hear whatever they want straight away and that they are able to hear different things they probably wouldn't have bought. But I think it's a good idea if you really like something to buy it, if you can afford it. If you don't like it at least you are not going to curse the group who made the rubbish record. You can also find music that's not easily available, which can only be a good thing.

Your song "Collarbone" has been used for a Miller Lite ad in the U.S. Have you ever tried Miller? You don't actually drink that stuff, do you?
That's all we drink. We got paid in beer instead of pounds. They gave us our own brewery, which our families now run. It's based in Shropshire.

Just because it's been nagging us since we first heard "Collarbone": have any of you ever broken yours? That song has a ring of truth to it.
Yes, it's a true story. I've broken mine twice; the first time I broke my collarbone, I tripped over my shoelaces whilst carrying an arsenal of toy guns. I did a somersault then smashed my collarbone into a lamppost. The second time I broke my collarbone, I was preparing for school sports day and I was tripped up by someone jealous of my lightning speed. I also got chicken pox whilst nursing my first broken collarbone, but that will have to wait for the fourth album.