“Progressive ska-punk” is the label often applied to this local quasi-supergroup, which features a former Trombone Shorty bassist and two former members of post-hardcore group Alone at the Wheel. But The Scorseses are more like socially conscious post-punkers sporting a horn section, as if the Ataris had crossbred with Rocket from the Crypt and thrown a little jazz noodling and occasional skank into the mix. The result is powerful in its anguish yet often turns on a dime, as if to consider the deeper, more personal implications of its proselytizing. If musical sub-sub-genres were Olympic dives, this one would have a fairly high degree of difficulty. “I can almost taste it / A movement of the mind,” lead singer Vince Ebeier muses on “The Assembly Line” before he erupts in anger at the futility of his cause: “Aren’t you tired of the same old song? Regurgitated, rearranged and overdone?”

As you might expect, that’s not a metaphor. Complaining about your own idiosyncrasies is a dangerous game for anyone but between the Scorseses’ exceptional musicianship and fighting spirit, they pull it off. “Bitter” may have worked better on your indie-rock playlist a decade ago but it isn’t for lack of trying, built as it is on pure jazz solos from both sax and trombone, a little rock organ, and a post-whatever rhythm that lurches between jazz and rock before exploding in a fury that threatens to wreck the whole track. Likewise, “Rabbit Hole” would be pure ska-punk were it not for the Latin intro, the funk breakdown, and a guitar solo that sounds like Santana’s playing the next VFW hall over. The only misstep occurs at the end, with a juiced-up but otherwise bloodless “Minnie the Moocher” that seems like a sop to its live shows. It doesn’t fit with the rest of Magnumopus but fortunately “The Crescent Collective,” a two-minute blast about the city as “a hurricane of dirty secrets,” comes to the rescue. Want some traditional NOLA sounds in your rock? Some punk attitude in your Uptown bar? This is your jam.