In the rare event you catch someone mourning the slow death of
major labels, it's usually due to its presumed effect on the
"career artist"-- the Springsteen, the Dylan, the Neil Young,
slow starters who'd never have fulfilled their destiny without
the proper executive patience and financial resources. And yet,
for all its meat-grinder stereotypes, UK's "major indie" realm
has produced Foals, Friendly Fires, the Horrors, Bombay Bicycle
Club, and the Cribs as proof that you don't have to be a Hall of
Famer to follow a bungled debut with a bizarre and interesting
career arc these days. In 2004, the Cribs were teens cashing in
on the post-Franz Ferdinand, post-post-Strokes gold rush; since
then, Johnny Marr joined and then quit their band, Lee Ranaldo
spit some spoken word on their third album, and Alex Kapranos,
Nick Launay, and Edwyn Collins can all list "the Cribs" in their
production credits. If the terms "Louis XIV" or "the Dead 60s"
mean anything to you, you'll admit that's a pretty good return
on an inves