TOO quirky and idiosyncratic to bother the charts or capture the feeble imaginations of the Arctic-Kaiser-Kooks crowd, since their emergence five years ago British Sea Power have broken conventions while collecting a fanatical set of followers.

Gigs in caves and village halls, a split single with the Wurzels and a punch-up with Faust have cemented their reputation as an unpredictable and intelligent - if arch - gang of oddballs.

Thursday's show was a lowkey effort designed to break in new material, though the band won over the audience by emerging from their customary greenery and stuffed birds to begin with a storming version of Remember Me. From there, unheard tunes came thick and fast.

Compared to the relatively polished sound of second album Open Season, the new material sounded rawer and more powerful, yet just as delightfully innovative as usual, with a trumpeter at one point upping the euphoria levels to Polyphonic Spree heights.

The main set ended with a joyful Spirit Of St Louis, while the encore featured an earsplitting extended version of Apologies To Insect Life and the graceful Carrion, which united the audience in a foliage-waving singalong.

Though still often reminiscent of late-Eighties outfit Kitchens Of Distinction, the band seem to be heading in an even more experimental and dynamic direction, and the signs are good for their as-yet-unscheduled third album.

More punk than the Pistols, more relentless than the Ramones, more fascinating than the Fall - British Sea Power are a national treasure.