OK, rock fans, how about an evening of classical Arab music? No, can’t see many takers out there. Not even enough to fill the back bar at Komedia.

So wonder at the fact that the Syrian National Orchestra played a solo slot to around 5,000 people at the Brighton Centre and were greeted with wild whoops of joy.

What made this improbable scenario possible was that they were seated in front of a massive lighted sign that said Gorillaz.

Main Gorillaz man Damon Albarn likes to mix it up, preferably with musical styles that don’t usually breathe air on the same continent – like delicate Middle Eastern filigrees with pile-driving hip-hop.

The resulting complexity shouldn’t be an easy sell; it shouldn’t make seas of arms sway in stadiums.

But when the Gorillaz Plastic Beach show came to town on Thursday it did just that. From the off, when a female string section played a classical intro which segued into a Snoop Dogg rap welcoming us to the Plastic Beach from a screen behind the band, the eccentric brew brimmed with purpose and coherence.

Visually it was stunning. There was something close to sensory overload, with Jamie Hewlett’s cartoon characters being pursued down a highway by a gun-toting Bruce Willis on screen while the band, including the Clash’s Paul Simenon and Mick Jones in sailor suits, went for broke on the stage.

Albarn, the presiding genius behind this extraordinary music, was himself working like a demon, playing keyboards, dancing, sing- ing, jumping like a loon and directing a show that never stood still for a second.

The beautiful interlude with the Syrian National Orchestra blended into the plea for peace that is White Flag, with Albarn diving into the audience with a huge white flag.

De La Soul delivered the hard-edged hip-hop like seasoned flame-throwers and Yukimi Nagano provided a tender moment duetting with Albarn on the love song To Binge. And top-of- the-bill guest star Bobby Womack made Stylo positively ring with soul.

Albarn whipped the night to a joyous climax with a rousing trio of crowd-pleasers, Feel Good Inc, Clint Eastwood and Plastic Beach. And with the crowd roaring for more, his backing singers made for a shimmering but gutsy choir on fabulous closers Don’t Get Lost In Heaven and Demon Days.

Somewhere in the space between the tough-guy hip-hop, the pugnacious punks of Hewlett’s cartoon band and the bittersweet, sometimes fragile sound of Albarn’s voice beats the complicated heart of Gorillaz.

It’s a compelling sound but it’s triumphantly not simple. And for a couple of hours it made the Brighton Centre seem like the best place on earth to be.