The Vaselines @ Museum of the Moon, Glasgow, 22 Jun

Charles Rennie Mackintosh's modern-gothic Queen's Cross Church, Luke Jerram's meticulous, evocative Museum of the Moon sculpture and the indie-jangle of hometown favourites, The Vaselines. Each of these artistic endeavours brings something different to the cultural table, but tonight they coalesce beautifully to fashion a night of exquisite entertainment.

Seated patiently in the pews beneath a huge, imposing moon, the audience seem more like extras in a Michel Gondry film than a gig crowd, but it doesn't take long for The Vaselines to bring us back to earth with opening numbers like High Tide Low Tide and Oliver Twisted. The band is pared back tonight to just Eugene Kelly, Frances McKee, and drummer Michael McGaughrin, but that only adds to the lo-fi charm of proceedings as the short, sharp songs are the perfect complement to the building, which seems somewhat run-of-the-mill at a glance, but reveals its intricacies and flourishes only upon closer inspection.

McKee and Kelly keep it light with plenty of bawdy banter, with Frances making the most of the surroundings to throw in as much religious chat as possible (“Are there female bishops? Should there be female bishops?”) in between jabs at Kelly's virility and quest for a girlfriend. Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam is an early highlight, but newer songs mingle just as well with the old ones, as Crazy Lady and I Hate the '80s attest.

Molly's Lips and Monsterpussy make late appearances, before the main set ends with Exit the Vaselines, which would usually be followed by an exit, but the stage logistics mean it's easier to just have a little huddle before treating the crowd to Dying for It and Son of a Gun, which ends triumphantly with people literally dancing in the aisles. The Vaselines may be preaching to the choir at this point, but tonight is a testament to the enduring legacy of one of Glasgow's favourites.