A life in music is like a yin yang. There is so much to love, but that becomes overwhelming. And that whelm occasionally turns into a muddled confusion which turns into an unhealthy amount of television watching and general artstic ponderance. Why doesn't all music sound like Nina Simone? Buddy Holly? Black Sabbath? Chic? Biggie? Gang of Four? Mariah Carey? But would we know their goodness if there was no badness from which to discern quality? What will free us from this bewitching haze? Wild Yaks will. They will do it with the hairy back of Rob Bryn, soaked from the abyss of a roadside waterfall and the pressed voices of beleaguered men yelling. We are pleased as punch to premiere their Matt Goldman directed video for "River May Come." May it revive you, too.