As Oasis entertained 19,000 people in the sold-out Earl's Court centre on Thursday, the group's euphoria must have been dimmed by the knowledge that 200 music lovers had chosen instead to witness The Shirehorses at the University of London Union. The fierce rivalry between the two bands is inevitable. The Shirehorses hail from Manchester, their songs sound like other people's, and if their leaders, Mark Radcliffe and Marc "Lard" Riley, are not as dangerously charismatic as the Gallagher brothers, then they are very nearly a match for Guigsy and Bonehead.

They took the stage to the strains of "Ride of the Valkyries" (plus some farting noises) and all critical categories crumbled before then. Was it pop? Was it comedy? Was it art? Was it none of the above? One thing is certain: if you thought Radcliffe and Riley were just failed Radio 1 breakfast show presenters, you know only half the story.

A guitarist and bassist complete the line-up, but it is Mark and Lard who have to be heard to be believed. Riley, like Chuck Berry and Jimi Hendrix before him, changes the way the guitar is played. Radcliffe does nothing less than transcend the shackles of his own identity to become a conduit for universal, spiritual truths. He also plays the drums quite well.

Beneath a U2-beating, multi-media sensory overload -- mostly footage of horses clopping through a field -- the band they're calling the new Brown Sauce unveiled their crypto-situationist sonic art terror statement, fearlessly destabilising outmoded paradigms of "good music" by rejecting the blinkered, capitalist emphasis on melody, talent, attitude, looks, and rehearsal. The Shirehorses understand completely what Zoe Ball can never know -- that in a post-modern, premillennial world, appearing to be stupid may be the most potent form of subversion available, and that rock'n'roll is not about how many hours you've sat practising your scales, it's about standing up and playing songs by Placebo and Hanson with rude words substituted for the proper lyrics.

The group's versatility cannot be described. Whereas so-called chameleon-of-pop David Bowie spent months in the identity of Ziggy Stardust, The Shirehorses were Dick Cave and the Bad Cheese (featuring Riley Minogue), Peela Tater, Baby Bloke, the Charley Twins, and literally five other bands in one evening. I have seen the future of DJs mucking around and calling each other tosspots, and its name is The Shirehorses.