Damon Albarn's prolific ability to create a stir continues. Since he unravelled Blur, Damon has been party to a series of departures with movie soundtracks, Malian musicians and the multi-million selling Gorillaz.

Still holding off from the (inevitable?) solo career tonight he gave the capital's first hearing of an all-new project, The Good The Bad and The Queen. Real people: rather than animated ones.

And what more poetic a setting than the Roundhouse for a band that combines afro-pop royalty in drummer Tony Allen with punk rock royalty in former Clash bassist Paul Simonon.

Simonon was of course the symbolic part of The Clash, the stylistic totem on the London Calling cover. Damon's art school leanings must have relished the chance to work with him. Since The Clash Simonon has played rockabilly in Havana 3AM and has developed a career as an artist with a fair hand in striking landscapes.

And that is pretty much where The Good The Bad and The Queen take off.

Tony Allen was the second great drummer to take the Roundhouse stage in the Electric Proms series. But the flowing groove extrapolated on the opening History Song was hailed from a different country to the redoubtable wallop of Paul Weller's drummer Steve White.

The band has visual style, taking centre stage for the second song. Albarn's two-tone era suit was mirrored by Simonon, who had swapped his semi top for a pork pie hat.

Eclecticism married to instantly-memorable melody is the key to the self-titled album, which they play in sequence.

On '80s Life the rich raindrop doo-wop harmonies ease into a reggae rhythm. On Northern Whale Simonon's bass buzz was rimmed with the suggestion of a Northern brass band with an echo of the Stones' 60s idyll title As Tears Go By. But then at the close it burst into something so audibly spacey, dynamic and new that you feel Albarn has moved into something that is realer and leaner than even the admittedly excellent Gorillaz.

The Clash were a constant presence, indeed as Simonon and the band had hot-housed that group's original plans only yards from the venue it was only right they should. But this was only the fourth time the band had played live and Albarn was unhappy and astonishingly admonished the band. "We're playing like shit, we can play a lot better. When you've only played four gigs you sometimes need to refocus, we need to refocus.''

They played the song again: a pumped up toy town fairground groove with added sub-dimension from Simonon and Tony Allen's finest percussive chatter. Then the guest vocalist arrived, Eslaam Jawaad, a Syrian/Lebanese singer. The song they played was only a B side but like everything else they played it showed that, at the very least, this band has extraordinary potential.

Damon Albarn had his first disappointment in years when his new supergroup played the BBC's Electric Proms on Thursday.

It was a night of unrealised potential.

There was huge expectation from the crowd. Damon was presenting the new album, The Good, The Bad And The Queen, he's made with legendary The Clash bass play Paul Simonon and African drumming sensation Tony Allen.

Damon's voice was excellent as he commanded the group from an upright piano. But they never quite found their groove.

Halfway through the show Damon - unused to a muted audience response with his other groups Blur and Gorillaz - got so angry with their poor performance he paused the gig and shouted: "We're playing like s***."

He then continued: "We can play a lot better.

"When you've only played four gigs you sometimes need to refocus - we need to refocus."

At least things can only improve from here.

Damon Albarn's band The Good, The Bad And The Queen made their London live debut at Camden Roundhouse last night (October 26).

And Albarn dedicated track 'Behind The Sun' to John Peel, who died two years ago this week.

He told the audience: "Please show your appreciation for a very nice man."

Albarn also told the crowd, which included members of Kaiser Chiefs, Dizzee Rascal, The View and Gnarls Barkley: "It's very nice to be back."

The band, which includes Paul Simonon of The Clash, guitarist Simon Tong of The Verve and Gorillaz, and Fela Kuti drummer Tony Allen, played their self-titled debut album in its entirety.

As well as songs from their album the band played 'Mr Whippy', the B-side off new single 'Herculean', which featured guest vocalist Eslaam Jawaad.

The complete setlist was:

'History Song'
'80s Life'
'Northern Whale'
'Kingdom of Doom'
'Herculean'
'Behind the Sun'
'The Bunting Song'
'Nature Springs'
'A Soldier's Tale'
'Three Changes'
'Green Fields'
'Mr Whippy'
'The Good, The Bad and The Queen'

Whether any genuine rock history is made over these five nights remains to be seen. But the sense of occasion is tangible, as the Roundhouse's Main Space fills up with people eager to witness the London debut of the Good, the Bad and the Queen, a supergroup convened by Gorilla Damon Albarn which features the Clash's Paul Simonon, Afrobeat drummer Tony Allen and Simon Tong the guitarist who used to be in the Verve.

The Clash's Paul Simonon often takes centre stage in the Good, the Bad and the Queen, pointing his penetrating bass at the crowd like a weapon, to the delight of old punks and neophytes alike. Fag behind the ear, pork-pie hat on, he looks like a Victorian undertaker moonlighting in a ska band - just the kind of scene Damon Albarn is keen to conjure up with his GBQ project. Frontman Damon often holds court behind an upright piano, in a top hat, a kind of vaudevillian ringmaster.

On record - not out until next year - their music is one of dubby atmospheres, all rusting gas towers, rising Thames waters and haunted old pubs, given a bit too much creak and crumple by Gorillaz producer and half of Gnarls Barkley, Brian 'Danger Mouse' Burton. Live, you can thankfully hear Tony Allen, formerly of Fela Kuti's band, and one of the finest drummers walking among us. He presides regally over the band, not taking any offence when Albarn bawls at him to stop during 'Three Changes', by far the most exciting song they play tonight. 'We played that shit! We need to refocus,' Albarn orders his troupe; they do it again, a bit louder.

The Good, the Bad and the Queen is the most satisfying thing Albarn has lent his hand to in some time. Songs like 'Kingdom Of Doom' - interrupted by a bass malfunction - prowl and swing. The instrumental part of forthcoming single 'Herculean' shows what can happen when a coven of diversely talented men let their instruments talk to each other. There is a delicacy and warmth in what Albarn is trying to do that seduces: you can hear it loud and clear on 'Green Fields', whose prettiness contrasts with the overriding murk. Guest rapper Eslam Jawaad converts the crowd to dub-hop with a rap in Arabic that lifts GBQ into new territory.

But the Good, the Bad and the Queen have come out of the blocks with Albarn in a lairy frame of mind. His idea of gee-ing up the crowd is to shout and shake his fist at us, a needless display of macho grandstanding that probably looks better on telly than it feels at the time.

It was a valiant effort, but even Damon Albarn could not buck the iron law of pop that states that supergroups inevitably disappoint. The man who has guided Blur and Gorillaz to such giddy heights unveiled his new band, the Good, the Bad & the Queen, with decidedly uncertain results. The line-up, which included the bass player Paul Simonon (formerly of the Clash), guitarist Simon Tong (the Verve) and the Nigerian drummer Tony Allen (Fela Kuti's band), certainly embraced the spirit of innovation that is the theme of the first BBC Electric Proms season. They performed their debut album, which is not due to be released until January, from start to finish.

The music was, loosely speaking, indie-Gorillaz meets worldbeat. Albarn led the way, singing in his Cockney croak and playing a bit of piano here and there.

Simonon looked and sounded awesome in his gangster trilby. Tong was discreetly efficient. And Allen behaved as if he was playing in another band. His drumming never seemed to join up the rhythmic dots in the songs and was completely overwhelmed by Simonon's edgy, reggae-derived bass lines. There was a false start during The Kingdom of Doom, which eventually turned out to be one of the best songs in the set, as Allen found a beat to lock on to at last. But energy levels dropped and attention ebbed as they slouched into the drifting, unresolved themes of Bunting Song and Soldier's Tale.

Things came to a head during Three Changes, when Albarn abruptly stopped the number and announced that it was time for the band to "refocus". Marching back and forth like a clockwork soldier, he exhorted the band to greater heights, lifting the performance out of its slump by sheer effort of will. For the few remaining numbers, the show began to gel at last.

Experience has shown that you can never write off an Albarn composition, no matter how unpromising it may sound on first hearing. And whatever the shortcomings of the performance itself, this was nevertheless a brave and very public attempt to explore new ideas outside the musicians' comfort zone. So they are awarded an extra star for sheer balls.

The most anticipated of the week's BBC Electric Proms gigs is also the most precarious. Not only have the band got no name, labouring under the title of their album, The Good, the Bad and the Queen, but they are playing music no one has heard. Yet the feeling that a legend might just be born at the resurrected Roundhouse is inescapable, and Damon Albarn is feeling the pressure. Gesticulating wildly, he calls time on the shivery dub of Three Changes not once, but twice. "We played that shit," Albarn says, his body turned to the crowd, but his steely tone directed at the band. "When you've only played four gigs, you need to refocus."

Focus has never been a problem for Albarn and, despite being part of a supergroup featuring the Clash's Paul Simonon on bass, Fela Kuti rhythm king Tony Allen on drums and Simon Tong, of the Verve, on guitar, this is Albarn's show.

His desire to communicate what Albarn has called his most English album since Parklife is almost desperate, his serious demeanour giving way to scissor jumps as he tries to lift the crowd. Teeth clenched, he pounds the piano during Kingdom of Doom, though when the jaunty stomp morphs into a melody recalling London Calling, it is Simonon's staggered poses that catch they eye.

Such boldness is out of step with the moody, autumnal soundscapes, which evoke introspection rather than attitude. A delicate wash of Blur-ry fairground melodies, languid pop and jabbing ska, it is intoxicating, but as Albarn strums an acoustic guitar to the barely there A Soldier's Tale, you wonder why he bothered with a band of this calibre.

Though Simonon's basslines punch through the watery melodies, Allen is relegated to the odd shifting rhythm, and gets lost in what sounds like a polished second chapter to Albarn's 2003 fractured solo offering, Demo Crazy. Despite the gang mentality - they play for themselves, often turning inward to face Allen - this is never more than an interesting one-man band.