It’s not every day you hear the word “bitch” or “ho” floating through traditional jazz arrangements. It’s equally rare to find scathing critiques of American culture delivered over upbeat samba or swing music.   

But on his latest release, “From the Plantation to the Penitentiary,” jazz trumpet mogul Wynton Marsalis is unconcerned with such conventions. Blending fiery political messages with his signature adherence to jazz tradition, Marsalis creates a poignant conversation between old styles and new beliefs.

The album’s title track is complemented by Jennifer Sanon’s hauntingly dissonant vocals. As Sanon recounts the historic struggles of the black community, drummer Ali Johnson’s heavy percussive flourishes bring to mind images of the “chains” that still restrict “in the land of freedom.”  

Similarly moving is “Love and Broken Hearts,” a mournful ballad lamenting the death of romance while condemning “modern day minstrels with … songless tunes.” This track sees Marsalis’ most expressive soloing, as he adopts a careful, minimalist musical swagger punctuated more by silence than by actual notes.

The most exciting track is “Supercapitalism,” a manic collage of styles that shifts forms from fast swing to cha-cha to ballad with the frantic fluidity of a hummingbird in flight. The solos from saxophonist Walter Blanding and pianist Dan Nimmer match the song’s dramatic changes with sharp precision, while Marsalis and Sanon execute impressively complex unison patterns throughout.    

There are unfortunate moments during which the album’s blend of jazz and politics proves a bitter pill to swallow. When Marsalis launches into a spoken-word tirade over the second-line swing of “Where Y’all At?,” his angry condemnations of “Patriots, compatriots and true blue believers / Brilliant thinkers and overachievers” seem out of place.

Similarly, Sanon’s woeful recollections of “Women dragging / Souls of their womb vanquished dreams” hardly fit the foot-tapping Habenera feel in “Find Me.” Even the album’s cover — a bling-adorned contemporary black man painted in the semi-impressionistic style of the Harlem Renaissance — seems at odds with itself.  

Still, the band’s musical virtuosity, exhibited best on the instrumental “Doin’ (Y)our Thing,” is reason enough to lend the album an ear. Though it may not sit well with the most rabid of jazz traditionalists or the most political of hip-hop activists, the album’s middle ground is sure to please listeners willing to compromise.

"From the Plantation to the Penitentiary" received three out of four stars