Like the treasure trove of change that falls between the couch cushions, so often goes the work of Scott Tuma. Having bounced around a plethora of renown (and some defunct) labels of underground repute, now comes No Greener Grass, an exquisite double album that is pristine despite wallowing among the lint and dust bunnies of an old, but well loved piece of furniture. It’s tough to call this the best Tuma has to offer, because a) I’ve though that before and b) Tuma is still producing great work. But as of right now, as I settle into this well worn but comfortable cushion? It sure feels (and sounds) delightful. Its lilting strings, echoing from all corners of the living room to my perfectly positioned ears, as I stare out the window and watch the seasons change. Oh, Tuma…ouch…where did this feather come from and why is it poking me?
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