Despite its seemingly combative title, "Not in Our Name," by jazz bassist Charlie Haden's Liberation Music Orchestra, is a surprisingly gentle and hopeful musical document.

There are occasional dissonant undercurrents and dense, sophisticated interplay among the 12 orchestra members. But the dominant attitude on this program of all-American music -- which ranges from a section of Dvorak's "New World Symphony" and a reggae treatment of a Pat Metheny tune to "America the Beautiful" and "Amazing Grace" -- is one of persevering beauty in the face of strife and treachery.

Unapologetically left-wing in his political views, Haden wrote in the liner notes to this 2005 CD, "Although we lost the [2004] election, we have not lost the commitment to reclaim our country in the name of humanity and decency."

Nearly four years later, the 71-year-old Haden sounds weary and depressed. He formed LMO in the late 1960s after listening in his car to radio reports of the U.S. bombing of Cambodia. Asked how the political situation has changed since then, the bassist sighs.

"I'm sorry to say that it's pretty much remained the same or even gotten worse with this Bush administration -- and the Nixon administration was bad enough," Haden said from his home in Santa Monica, Calif. "The situation in Iraq is horrible: The injustice is evident and no one is being held accountable."

One's enjoyment of the LMO, especially in its current incarnation, would seem to be a matter of musical taste as much as political inclination. Right-wing jazz buffs are likely to come away from an LMO concert more enriched than, say, lefty punk-rockers.

LMO boasts a lineup of esteemed jazz figures. Haden and LMO arranger/pianist Carla Bley have filled halls the size of Ted Mann with other ensembles. And 10 of the 12 LMO members who appeared on "Not in Our Name" are making the tour (with able replacements for alto saxophonist Miguel Zenon and guitarist Steve Cardenas).

Bley is a steadfast iconoclast who really rose to the challenge of refreshing and transforming these frequently rote anthems without losing their integrity. And Haden, who once sang at the Grand Ol' Opry and is finishing a country record, has a knack for leavening the thorniest arrangements with penetrating rhythmic simplicity (remember, he was long the bassist for Ornette Coleman). Their virtues are synergistic, and mischievous, supple drummer Matt Wilson is the cherry on top of a dynamic rhythm section.

Beautiful, not angry music

When Haden began setting his itinerary for the Liberation Music Orchestra tour this year, he found few takers. "Considering what is going on in this country, I expected to be playing a lot of universities and other places." But he has landed only at Duke University and the University of Minnesota's Ted Mann Concert Hall on Saturday, in a concert sponsored by Walker Art Center.

"For some reason, arts presenters are either more afraid or more conservative than they used to be," Haden said.

It would be naïve to imagine that the LMO is going to soft-pedal its politics five weeks before a presidential election. Haden has released four LMO discs over the past 39 years, each timed to protest a different Republican administration. Although it has no lyrics, he wrote the title track to "Not in Our Name" in tribute to the signs he saw in the windows of Europe as the second Iraq war was being initiated.

While he expects to devote much of the program to the wide range of material on "Not in Our Name," the LMO has been known to branch out in previous concerts, once turning the civil rights anthem "We Shall Overcome" into a compelling jazz helix that lasted nearly 30 minutes.

Would Sen. John McCain's election prompt a fifth Liberation Music Orchestra record? "Who knows?" Haden answered, a little feistiness creeping back into his voice. "I might do another record when we play the Blue Note [club in New York City] the week before the election. I don't ever make a record to be angry; I make it out of concern for justice and equality because that's what makes for beautiful music. It's hard to have hope sometimes. But I still do."

Britt Robson is a Minneapolis writer.