On The Roar And The Whisper, Alexa Tarantino leans fully into contrast. It is her fifth studio album, and it captures an artist comfortable living at both ends of the dynamic spectrum, commanding when she wants to push and patient when space and restraint tell the deeper story.

Tarantino has long been admired for her clarity and control, qualities that earned her high praise from Wynton Marsalis, who once dubbed her a “one-woman wrecking crew.” That reputation still holds, but this record broadens the picture. The Roar And The Whisper captures the full range of her musical voice, from charged, forward-motion improvisations to hushed passages that feel suspended in air.

At the center is Tarantino’s quartet, with Steven Feifke on piano, Philip Norris on bass, and Mark Whitfield Jr. on drums, locked in with the kind of intuition that only comes from trust and repetition. The group moves fluidly through Tarantino’s compositions, shifting tempos and textures without telegraphing the turns. There is muscle here, but also a sense of conversation, each player shaping the music in real time.

Guest appearances deepen the album’s emotional palette without tipping the balance. Percussionist Keita Ogawa adds color and rhythmic snap to “Tigress,” while vocalist Cécile McLorin Salvant lends her voice to two tracks, including her own “Moon Song.” Salvant’s presence feels organic rather than ornamental, folding seamlessly into Tarantino’s magical sound.

What stands out most is Tarantino’s command of mood. She knows when to let the music surge and when to pull it back to a near whisper, trusting nuance over excess. The Roar And The Whisper plays like a statement of intent, focused, expressive, and rooted in a deep understanding of ensemble jazz, marking another confident step forward in an already formidable career.