Alexa Tarantino: The Roar and the Whisper

If there is one true sound to describe the sound of luminous liberation, young veteran saxophonist/flautist/composer Alexa Tarantino captures it handily and shares it profusely with her band and everyone else within earshot of The Roar and the Whisper.

Tarantino, whose star continues to flare via her ongoing gig at Jazz At Lincoln Center and her stint alongside Renee Rosnes and Allison Miller in the high flying all woman supergroup Artemis on their head spinning second disc, In Real Time (Blue Note, 2023), wraps us in her whims immediately with the sweet, swinging opener, "Inside Looking Out." Tarantino wastes no time charging forth while Grammy-winning pianist Steven Feifke (Wynton Marsalis, Christian McBride) enthusiastically stakes his case to be both Tarantino's partner and foil throughout the whole of The Roar and the Whisper.

Slinking in like the Pink Panther's big cousin, the title track reveals a plethora of surprises. Reverberating with old-school muscle, Tarantino stands out stunningly, her solo searching, exploring, and conjuring the greats who have bared their souls before her. Nuanced and mobile, bassist Philip Norris (Emmet Cohen, the ever-present Marsalis) and drummer Mark Whitfield, Jr. (Kenny Garrett, Orrin Evans) hold the template and shape-shift at will, keeping the ensemble locked in tight.

Expertly balancing her more traditional leanings with her desire to bop with the best of  them, Tarantino and company power up and breakthrough with Wayne Shorter's tribute to Clifford Brown, "This Is For Albert." Originally recorded in 1962 by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, (Caravan (Riverside)) the quartet's fluid run makes for a real album highlight. Though raucous in the same post-bop vein, "Portrait of a Shadow" and "Provoking Luck" go for the gusto on their own exquisite terms.

Though it may appear to sound blasphemous that any track highlighting Tarantino's melodic gifts, lilting flute, and vocalist Cecilie McLorin Salvant's translucent mastery distracts from the whole, "Moon Song" and Billy Strayhorn's bossa-beat "Tigress" do just that. Maybe these tracks are meant to serve as the whisper in the title. Perhaps a whole album of this collaboration is in the works for the near future. Here, the tunes turn attention away from a quartet coming into its own, slowing the flow of The Roar and the Whisper, an otherwise unerring outing.