It's difficult to know what Art Brut are about. Pure concept? An intellectual conceit? Or are their screaming rants and jagged chords just examples of south-east London cockiness?

On the basis of one single, Formed a Band, the quintet has been heralded as the spearhead of the emergent New Cross scene. Supported by new local label Angular Recordings, the sound is a ragbag collection of bands for which the anyone-can-play-guitar spirit of 1978 is alive and thrashing.

But singer Eddie Argos wants stardom. Standing among a heaving throng of fellow Angular hopefuls - one of whom wears a white sailor's jacket with matching hat - he leads them in the refrain: "Top of the Pops, Top of the Pops."

It could be first-year art school irony. After all, their name is taken from French artist Jean Dubuffet's call for naive freedom; their lyrics are situationist-style statements.

But despite the shrill, punk notes and heavy, blunt drums, a pop heart beats beneath Art Brut's borrowed theories. Argos is more likely to have old issues of Smash Hits under his bed than a well-thumbed copy of England's Dreaming.

These Animal Menswear is closer to Elastica's Wire-aping style than a homage to Britpop's lightweights, with an added smattering of the Jam. In Modern Art, shades of soul and 1960s beat flourish within guitarist Ian Catskilkin's tortured screeching.

But the catchy melodies - in truth, variations on one catchy melody - battle to survive the onslaught of Argos's vocals. He's passionate, forceful and indecipherable. Punching the air, yelling with the conviction of Arthur Scargill and grace of Mark E Smith, he's a born agitator and bristling wannabe.

"I wanna be the boy, the man, that writes the song that makes Israel and Palestine get along," he yelps. Stepping off stage, he watches the band, frontman turned fan. "Are you ready, Art Brut?" he asks. Whether he's being deferential or amusing, who knows.

· At the Zap Club, Brighton (01273 202407), on Sunday and the Garage, London N5 (020-7607 1818), April 27.