In pop, as in colonialism, the pioneers get the arrows and the settlers get the land. Fusing metal, funk, prog rock and hip-hop as early as the mid-1980s, Faith No More were later held partly responsible for spawning the execrable nu-metal scene that was to follow in their wake.

Yet the Californian five-piece’s own musical roots lay in arty post-punk, as is evidenced by tonight’s set design. The stage is all billowing white curtains and bouquets, and easy listening fills the air, as if we are awaiting Barry Manilow. When Faith No More appear, clad in lounge-band white, they fire straight into a song called Motherfucker.

They are touring their recent Sol Invictus album, their first in 18 years, but the long absence appears to have diminished none of their jittery, gnarled intensity. The brutalist avant-noise of Be Aggressive and the malign funk of Midlife Crisis confirm that their spiritual kin were always mavericks like PiL or tonight’s support act, the Pop Group.

Mike Patton remains a driven, hypercharismatic front man, ladling bile and malice over the sourly anthemic Ricochet. The Gentle Art of Making Enemies is all Black Sabbath riffs and it’s obvious why Faith No More have just played at Download, but they’re so much more than a metal band: the knowing bombast of new track Matador swells into high camp like Bowie at his most outré.

After a taut, laudably thrilling set, they encore with the mocking sneer of 1987 single We Care A Lot, a sardonic evisceration of the hypocritical platitudes that underpinned much Live Aid-style charity pop. Remarkably, more than 30 years into a pathologically contrary career, it appears that they still do.

• At the Roundhouse, London, until 18 June. Box office: 0300 678 9222