Genesis P-Orridge has never been reluctant to shock. Branded a "wrecker of civilisation" by Tory MP Nicholas Fairburn, he has been hounded from the country for being a "Satanist" and fined by the Royal Mail for sending maggots in the post. But none of this quite compares to his latest wheeze.

P-Orridge and "other half" Lady Jaye have adopted "pandrogyny" - the science of resembling each other via plastic surgery. Thus P-Orridge arrives on stage with a blond bob, real breast implants, gold teeth, a push-up bra and a mini skirt. Looking like a debauched All Saint is about exploring "the technological possibilities of the future evolution of the human body and gender", which should appease anyone who thought the former Neil Megson had simply discovered the thrill of wearing women's undies.

Behind a five-piece band (four-fifths blond, two-fifths female, only the girls in skirts), video screens show the nude, post-op Mancunian with male bits intact. The music at PTV's first UK gig in years has also undergone surgery. P-Orridge's Throbbing Gristle invented "industrial music", but here he veers between melodic, psychedelic guitar pop and dark funk, although the opening Black Cat sees the band "miaowing" while the female bassist struggles to keep a straight face. P-Orridge has a fearsome reputation but has become surreally funny. When he flashes red knickers he quips: "It must be my period."

In two hours, P-Orridge flits from maniac to genius, prat to provocateur, purveyor of tedious narratives and stunning dance grooves, anti-war orator and unfeasibly accurate mimic of gruff Scotsmen in the audience. He can be genuinely thought-provoking: especially when films of P-Orridge and Lady Jaye looking bandaged and vulnerable illustrate lyrics such as: "Do you see what you're conditioned to see?" Then he totters back on for Jumpin' Jack Flash and says: "Pretty sexy for 56, huh? Wait 'til I hit 70." Heaven help us.