In December, four mates from Leicester, England, seized the cover of British weekly rag NME behind the pull-quote: "We're the best band in Britain."

Ten years ago, it could have been Oasis. It's just another round in the game that's become music journalism, a sport in which the British press are champions. This time it's Kasabian.

The quote, coming from lead singer Tom Meighan, seems pretentious taken out of context of the band's rise overseas, an ascent with superlative-heavy quotes slapped on by an exaggerating press.

Under this consideration, Meighan may be cocky in holding his own band "the best in Britain," or he may just be mock-regurgitating from the band's stack of positive press clippings.

Playing the game with the press has become a natural step in the progression of a band's success. Every band must be ground through the music industry's machine before being fed to a jaded public to see if it will be digested or rejected.

Most bands parade gallantly into the mix with a strong vision, but few survive with this vision untarnished.

Kasabian are among the few with clear vision intact. Their vision, though, is not what you would expect from a buzzworthy rock band, being closer to that of a DJ who rhapsodizes musical samples than to any of the fall-to influences for indie rock bands of late.

"The idea, whether we did it or not, was to make an album sound like we'd stolen all the music from old records and then made an album out if it," guitarist Sergio Pizzorno explains.

It's this vision that led them to the use of computers in the creation of their electro-rock sound, after going into the studio and discovering that no one could create the sound they wanted.

It is also this vision that has gotten Kasabian into qualms with the same press that elevated them. Many critics believe the objective was delivered too well, to the point of plagiarism.

Several bands have been named as victims in Kasabian's pillaging of music's past. A popular choice is the Happy Mondays.

"I don't really hear it," Pizzorno says of the comparison. Exhausted with the press, he adds, "What has happened is one lazy journalist said it once and many have followed because it's an easy way to start a piece."

It's with this developed cynicism (or realism) that Kasabian have come to the States on tour in support of their American album release.

Pizzorno will claim that so far the shows have revealed that American audiences- or at least rock'n'roll audiences- are "more open-minded."

But Americans may have the world's shortest attention spans. In order to capture our attention, you must make an impressive, or at least aggressive, first move.

Much like high school, appearance and reputation are often more important than substance in becoming a star.

Fortunately for Kasabian, they look the part. Pizzorno is tall and skinny, with shaggy, hippie-reminiscent hair.

He'll wear aviator-style sunglasses up to the moment the interview starts, and then he'll reach for them defensively as soon as it's clear the questioning is over.

And Kasabain certainly have a reputation that precedes them. The press has made them posterboys for the rock'n'roll party, romanticizing their lifestyle into every known clich�.

When tourmates the Music were on MTV2's "Subterranean," host Jim Shearer warned them to not let Kasabian "get them into any trouble."

When asked about this reputation, Pizzorno lets the words shift in the air as he considers the best response.

"We're very nice," he finally concludes "We do like to get into trouble- but it's not bad trouble. It's all in good fun. We just like to enjoy ourselves."

The rock'n'roll image and lifestyle, to whatever degree of truth it exists with Kasabian, is not surprising. What is surprising is how true that first claim is: Pizzorno really is "very nice."

And unnervingly polite. When there is a knock on the door mid-interview, he asks first if he can get up and answer it before doing so.

He'll even compare his life to that of someone who "works at Target." This down-to-earth attitude, combined with his buoyant sincerity, is refreshing.

It's also refreshing how much Pizzorno and his mates are genuinely enjoying themselves, whether onstage or backstage, despite the impossible expectations set by press hype or the unnecessary solemnity exercised by many of their peers.

"I got to be honest with you," Pizzorno confesses, "meeting new people and doing what we do- I think it's great."

In the music industry machine, much is out of a band's control, so they may as well have some fun.

After all, behind all the posturing- the press, the image, the reputation, whether or not Kasabian have what it takes to be great is really up to the listener to decide.