Finding a snappy name for your new group is getting harder every year. As with log-ins and websites, the obvious ones have all been taken. This illustrious combination of one established star, saxophonist Stan Sulzmann, and two of Britain’s most talented young soloists, pianist Gwilym Simcock and vibraphonist Jim Hart, had to rack their brains before settling on one little word that represented all things bright, shiny and colourful. “And in Greek,” noted Sulzmann, “neon also means new.”

Not a bad choice. Conceptually this supertrio may not offer anything blindingly radical, yet their outstanding quality as writers and improvisers does guarantee dazzling moments when they perform. Last night most of these came from Simcock, who does not allow a classical training to stifle his jazzman’s urge to excite. Without drive, classical technique takes a musician only so far. Simcock goes the full distance.

While playing with apparently effortless facility — at fast tempos his wrists remained so still that it was difficult to believe the fireworks coming out of the piano — he also made sure the band swung. Hart’s shadings and promptings were on full alert and with the tall Sulzmann playing tenor more forcefully than he normally does, we had music that quickly made listeners forget that neither bass nor drums were onstage.

Simcock, playing left-hand basslines or sometimes articulating the chords into rhythm patterns, did most to keep the beat alive but Hart’s four mallets were busy in clever counterpoint behind Sulzmann’s sax. Standards, The Song is You and You Don’t Know What Love Is, were eloquent proof of their commitment to chord-based playing but their originals were far more interesting.

Choo-choo, a bright 6/8 feature for Sulzmann’s declarative tenor, benefited from Hart’s urgent vibraphone chords. Deviation, by Hart, was a slower yet more complex sequence, and the title track included a fast samba and a gentle ballad, with Hart stroking the tone-bars as lightly as humanly possible.

His instrument, he recalled before the set, used to belong to a fine player of the Sixties, Lennie Best. “I never heard him play, but I told his widow I would try to live up to his example when I played them,” he said. Good vibes indeed.