Most of the time we try not to take personally what you do—listen to this, don't, whatever. But as Music Journalists, it is occasionally difficult to see the projects you champion linger in a bland obscurity. Unrelenting and full-scale praise would be an ideal, but a bad-publicity-is-good-publicity gnarly clamor is still better than a tepid ignorance. Since we learned of Wild Yaks and put them in our magazine last fall, not much has happened to them. We've seen them play over and over—in kitchens, bars, clubs, restaurants that have since closed. We watched Rob Bryn jump off a cliff, drank a lot of tallboys in a hallway waiting for him to get a microphone that worked, still stayed when he couldn't. He stood up on a chair and yelled loud instead. We saw them in Texas, Martin coming around the corner of the Beauty Bar early in the evening like a skeezy messiah in tight jeans and huge shoes. You need to remedy your Wild Yaks deficiency. These songs were recorded a year ago and have been awaiting release. Wild Yaks have freed them up now, available to float electronically over land and sea to wherever you may need some encouragement, some reassuring, some noble guts. Please listen, it's worth it.
Download: Wild Yaks, "River May Come"
Download: Wild Yaks, "Tomahawk"
Download: Wild Yaks, "Wish I Had a Whip"