They say great jazz is like sex for the brain. Tonight there was no awkward edge-of-dance-floor jiggling, just nodding to the pull of a particularly well-communicated rhythm and the odd burst of applause at a solo, from an audience which - like an appreciative lover - was relaxed, composed and very attentive.

Compassionate Dictatorship gave us a lot to applaud. The four musicians (sax, guitar, bass and drums) are individually strong and collectively exhilarating. The ebb and flow of improvisation between players is excellent. They have a wonderful facility for listening to each other: the outward effect is smooth and alive, sensual, inventive and beautifully cohesive. Tori Freestone has a silky, understated, technically stunning command of the saxophone, not hogging the limelight (difficult for a sax) but playing with humour and panache. Jez Franks creates a lush, colourful, guitarscape with rock roots, like Pat Metheny with balls.

Jasper Hoiby, on bass, was perhaps the most thrilling player: he and James Maddren the drummer appeared to be linked by telepathy. Hoiby's quick-fingered, spare, decisive, Scandinavian summary of rhythms collected from around the world was terrifically energising. The tightness of the group created a sound that is structurally, rhythmically and harmonically freer than most, and on this last date of their tour they seemed to be playing with the breathless enthusiasm of a new band.

Their groove-laden music employed lot of interesting time signatures, but with such assurance that you wouldn't notice unless you counted. One of my favourites was Tori Freestone's Blady, for its infectious rhythm and the controlled passion of the playing. Jez Franks's Mr Mishmash, a showcase of pastiches on different styles written for "this really annoying man we met at the Bulgarian jazz festival" was impressive and fun, but the other less deliberately silly pieces - also mostly penned by Franks - were even better.

Most jazz clubs in the UK won't put on anything as good as what you'd find in London, but the Spin does, and does repeatedly. They've been four times shortlisted for the best UK jazz venue, which is extraordinary for a club outside the capital. This particular gig was jazz at its best: focused entirely on the music, virtuosic without making a big thing out of it. The verbal presentation between songs was dreadful, the music was divine. If you're a fan of real jazz, no question: this is the place to be.