Here, before an audience that included more than a handful of his peers in the west of Scotland pop firmament, Stevie Jackson, first mate on the good ship Belle And Sebastian, delivered a masterclass in the art of pop craftsmanship and stardom. Simon Cowell and all his telly talent show cohorts should have been there to see how it really should be done.

Jackson possesses the sort of charisma and easy on-stage charm with which very few are blessed. He was laugh-out-loud funny between songs and often during them too, and his party-piece impersonation of Elvis Costello performing The Sun Has Got His Hat On will live in my mind forever. Ideally someone will have captured it for posterity on YouTube.

But all of this wit and charm – Jarvis Cocker, eat your heart out – would be as nothing if the music was not so utterly splendid too. (I Can’t Get No) Stevie Jackson, his debut solo disc, is an eclectic collection bolstered by the participation of a cast of friends. Many of them were in Tut’s, but just to listen because the live performance was in the hands of a compact quartet completed by Bob Kildea of B&S, the drums of Stuart Kidd and bass and keys of Marco Rea, collectively The Wellgreen, who played a fine support set.

Not only did this slick combo handle everything on the disc, they made the songs even more vibrant. On a track like Just, Just So To The Point – a superb homage to the director John Huston – with the audience roped in to provide backing vocals, this was truly remarkable.

Ranging from that extended funk workout to the pop perfection of Press Send and Richie Now, this was one of the gigs of the year.