It's a Thursday night in Dalston. The Vortex. The musicians arrive, after everyone else. The gig was supposed to start at 8.30, it's 9pm. It's jazz. So far, so good. The crowd is a good size, most have a seat or place to perch. This jazz may not be everyone's cup of coffee, but its vibe is infectious. The music has already started even before the first note has been struck, it's in the air. We know what we're in for. Parker on the tenor horn, Edwards on the double bass, Marsh – his body the extension of the drum kit. I've seen this trio before, but they never cease to seize me, and everyone else – judging by the sheer amount of electricity and pleasure printed on the faces of the audience members.

They jump right into it with such ease, their first almost non-stop forty-five minutes set of pure adrenaline. Parker chooses his notes carefully, never allowing the sound of his sax to overshadow Edwards' subtle yet bold bass lines, nor the beautifully intricate rhythms Marsh melts into from the start.

For those who aren't familiar with their music, this isn't your standard jazz by any stretch of the imagination. Labelled 'free ', it gives the audience much freedom of interpretation – and, more importantly perhaps, it allows one to choose from which angle to approach the sound. It's so easy to end up focusing on just the one instrument, any one of the three, because all seem to be lost in their own journey and busy creating colourful pictures. The whole thing can almost appear disjointed for a while, until a crescendo or a diminuendo allows the musicians to suddenly come together – perfectly in sync with each other's thoughts and notes –reminds us of the incredible amount of skill and feel that these musical magicians have.

Towards the end of the first set, Edwards goes off into one of his long and soulful solos, taking us on a journey into the depths of his bass, using every inch of his hands and what seems to be every inch of his instrument to express. The bow produces screeches, then it is skilfully balanced between the strings and the wood when Edwards can't bare his hands being away from his instrument for too long. He taps, he tickles, he smacks, he caresses the bass in a way that each new note becomes a discovery.

Parker's ability to 'speak' so loudly without the need for loudness or abundance of notes, is remarkable. He is the master overseeing the action, keeping everyone tight, whilst allowing plenty of room for experimentation.

Marsh looks so lost inside the sound that surrounds him, that his playing seems to become the last of his priorities, yet he manages to surprise constantly with wonderful phrases that appear to be thrown around casually, but that serve as a cue for the numerous reunifications.

It's not easy to put words to this type of experience – all I can say is, yes yes yes!