A hour of cohesive interplay, defined by three minds working in parallel with generous hearts. It’s improvisation, jazz, maybe it is only the will of sharing a common vision between gifted artists – and the audience is the element that profits from this kind of game. Dunmall (saxophones), Stephens (double bass) and Marsh (drums) play over four tracks without ready-to-memorize themes or predetermined progressions. They just launch themselves into exploring the subtleties of a single phrase or a series of figurations, their combinations and contiguities, how everything works together until a climax is reached. Then the trio shifts towards something different, each and every time avoiding glittering lights and glamour in favour of a cross of noir-ish whispers and discreet presentiments. The recording captures the instruments in an apparently large room, the collective sound well balanced, almost peak-less in a way. While Dunmall is obviously the prominent soloist, his tone representing the hearty presence of the most simple beauty that a saxophone can yield, Stephens portraits the unconditioned liberties of an autonomous-minded bassist, alternating arco and fingers with elegant nonchalance. Marsh listens attentively, putting small pinches of percussive sapience in, playing with sensitive delicacy that never transcends the dynamic equilibrium which this pleasing album is based upon. One is able to detect class even in such a tranquil setting; within “All said & dun”, discovering it is an easy task.