By now, you know Babymetal—or at least, you’ve heard of them. A trio of Japanese schoolgirls who sing and dance wildly to heavy metal, Babymetal is the brainchild of a Tokyo studio exec, inspired by dynamic film heroines such as Hit-Girl from Kick-Ass and Hayao Miyazaki’s wind-rider Nausicaä. Call it the million-dollar idea—one that drew me and a crowd of shirtless headbangers to a sold-out show at a Times Square theater last month, where we stood transfixed by the frenetic spins, pulse-racing guitar, and hypnotic hand gestures.

Much fuss has already been made over Babymetal, who kick off the European leg of their tour this week, and their “kawaii-metal” sound. But I’ve arrived at a studio downtown to talk to band members Moa “Moametal” Kikuchi, 16; Yui “Yuimetal” Mizuno, 16; and Suzuka “Sumetal” Nakamoto, 18, about the other half of the equation: their idiosyncratic performance style. “You haven’t seen any other artists who sing metal while wearing such cute dresses!” Nakamoto tells me, waving toward the pleather peplum at her waist with a chiffon bishop sleeve. No argument there.

Peering closely at the elaborate handiwork, the group’s reference points rise to the surface: a chrome-colored knit woven into each black tulle skirt is a playful nod to Metallica that catches the stage light; a silver snakeskin-stamped breastplate recalls the medieval chain mail of Joan of Arc and pairs well with a gothic floor-grazing cloak. “It also looks like fish scales!” Kikuchi says. “I like that.” Above all, the costumes are infused with Japanese culture—a cropped silk kimono with a white wood kitsune mask honors the folkloric fox demon. Then there are traces of Gothic Lolita—Tokyo’s iconic street style subculture—spliced into the fuwa fuwa tulle skirts, the Victorian ruffled collars.

Therein lies the secret: At its core, Babymetal is a wholly Japanese phenomenon, a genuine cultural export. Where else but in Japan would the worlds of shredding guitar solos and doll-like dressing so perfectly collide? As Nakamoto tells it, the band has a secondary mission beyond music—that through their clothing, fans around the world might come to love the country’s one-of-a-kind style. “That’s what makes Babymetal special—not only the music, but the fashion,” she says.

Which brings us to Harajuku, the birthplace of Gothic Lolita, where in their spare time, the girls wind their way along Takeshita Street, flipping through racks of tulle skirts with fresh crepes in hand, searching for inspiration. New to the neighborhood is a heavy metal tee shop; they’ll pop by to check if Babymetal shirts are in stock (not yet) and to look for Metallica, their favorite band. I ask if Metallica might be their next muse—blended together with Lolita clothes—and a collective whoa grips them. “It’s our fantasy to dress like them!” Mizuno says. “In the future, one day down the road,” Nakamoto adds. We can’t wait.