A couple of years ago, staring down the barrel of my approaching thirties and in peak quarter-life crisis mode, I came up with the obvious solution to my ennui — I bought a motorcycle. Even though my riding phase lasted less than a year, it was awesome, and 90% of the sonic fuel blasting freedom and badassery into my helmet was none other than Athens, Georgia’s The Whigs. When I heard these dudes were in town to support fellow joyride soundtrackers Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, I threw on my Zeke Death Alley biker shirt and my finest tattered jeans and headed down to House of Blues to rock it out. Continue reading…