"Hi, we're called the Sugababes," chirps bleach-blonde rock goddess in training Jemina Pearl, which is a bit like Hitler storming up to the borders of Poland and proclaiming himself to be Bruce Kent. Nashville's own musical version of horribly messy urban warfare, Be Your Own Pet are a crazed teenage temper tantrum. For anyone over the age of 18, their sound is not an immediate one, but after a few songs, the older portion of the crowd have got into the buzzsaw playpen punk just as much as the hyperactive kids who not only love every minute, but understand the sheer lunacy of it all as well.

This group of underage tearaways stick to the simple things, such as serrated songs about riding bikes, and Let's Get Sandy, a 60-second ode to getting sand between your toes at the beach, which sees Pearl rattling across the stage towards the staid, young-looking bassist, Nathan Vasquez. Damn Damn Leash is their signature song: it's like the Buzzcocks ripped to shreds and pieced back together by Bikini Kill.

Proclaiming the crowd to be "like, so awesome!" after every song, Pearl could easily pass for an OC-watching, all-American teen - if weren't for the thick dark roots at the bottom of her straggly peroxide locks, her gravelly scream and her tendency to dance by rolling around on the floor. Young, dumb and stupid fun - the teen essence of rock'n'roll, and it smells damn good.

· At the Zodiac, Oxford, tomorrow. Box office: 01865 420042. Then touring.