Never mind the war on Iraq, Brighton's British Sea Power have declared war on the entire sorry music establishment.

Armed with a salvo of catchy rock numbers, they took the Concorde 2 crowd by storm.

With parade-ground precision, singer Yan Hamilton, possessed of the most disturbing rock-star stare since Johnny Rotten, and his band of wide-eyed cohorts launched into a 40-minute set which took no prisoners.

The stage, decked with militaria and, for a reason known only to the band, a stuffed owl, exploded as 4/4 pop tunes ricocheted into a glorious, squalling cacophony.

Sounding like a cross between Iggy Pop, Wire and Pavement, their mission for global domination looks assured.

By the finale, it was carnage. The drummer had wandered off into the crowd and the bass player was perched on Yan's shoulders, waving the owl.

The Fall, on the other hand, need no gimmicks. They have been waging their campaign against sanity for longer than anyone can remember.

The moment Mark E Smith wandered on to the stage, grey trousers pulled up Simon Cowell-style above his midriff, the opposition scarpered.

The set took in material from the original Live At The Witch Trials and Extricate to new numbers from the recent clutch of albums only the die-hards bought.

It was all wonderful, sneery, spat-out nonsense. Mark E, we salute you.

Review by Simon Freeman, simon.freeman@theargus.co.uk