The new book, Motorcycle Life, by longtime Revolver contributor Eric Hendrikx, brings together 107 riders in a global portrait of motorcycle culture. It features a forward by the The Walking Dead’s Norman Reedus and interviews with Keanu Reeves, Jason Momoa, Tommy Flanagan, Slipknot’s Jim Root, and others — including late Mastodon guitarist and vocalist Brent Hinds. The book features his final, bittersweet interview, which we’ve excerpted below. Motorcycle Life, published by Artisan Books, is out September 29th, 2026, wherever books are sold. Brent Hinds was one in a trillion — a wild-eyed guitar sorcerer, cofounder of the Grammy-winning heavy-metal band Mastodon, and a lifer in musical projects like Fiend Without a Face and West End Motel. But before all that, he was just a fearless Alabama kid ripping dirt bikes and launching off homemade ramps. Later in life, he toured the world, appeared on Ride with Norman Reedus, and built his dream chopper. Hinds lived for motorcycles with the same fire he brought to music — raw, loud, and unapologetically real. He was the kind of artist who didn’t just play — he felt everything, and you felt it too. People admired him for that authenticity, myself included. We spoke just weeks before he died in a motorcycle accident. This was his final interview. Ride in peace, Brent. You were the real deal. Jerimiah Smith What was your earliest experience with riding motorcycles?Steering a bike from the gas tank, man. I was so young, probably still in diapers. My dad had this 1965 Triumph Tiger 650 he used to take me for rides on. I could barely reach the handlebars from the tank, but l’d twist that throttle and feel the motor roar like a god. What was your first motorcycle?When I was three or four, my dad got my brother and me an Indian MM5A 50cc—they called it the Mini Bambino — and that thing was a damn rascal. We had a lot of property in Helena, Alabama — great for riding trails, building jumps, and racing. You and your brother did some racing?If I could say one thing about the way my parents raised me and my brother, it’s that they let us ride motorcycles. By the time I was around nine or 10, and my brother was 12, we were racing motocross. It all ended the day he hit a rock in a mud puddle, flew off his bike into a tree, and broke his pelvis. He was in a fucking body cast for a month. After that, we’d ride out to the country gas station, buy cigarillos, then head to my grandmother’s house to steal my dead granddad’s Playboy magazines. We’d take them to our fort, light up Swisher Sweets, and hang out looking at naked chicks. What motorcycles do you currently own?I have a 1965 Triumph Tiger 650 — the same year and model my dad used to ride with me on the tank. I’ve also got a military bike — straight out of the National Defense Department. And my ride-or-die motorcycle is a 2004 Harley-Davidson Road King — I just did a trip to Virginia Beach and back on it with about 17 other guys. I was probably the only guy that didn’t have to stop and fix my bike — the rest of them were on old Panheads and Knuckleheads. Then there’s my “Green Machine,” a full custom chopper — 98 bore, lightweight frame, spoke wheels, Baker six-speed, Laffy Taffy-green paint with gold leaf flames. It hops curbs, shakes bolts loose, and pisses off neighbors. I love it. That bike fucks — meaning, it’s everything I ever wanted in a motorcycle. But I recently came out of a wheelie and hit a car. Didn’t have time to steer. Bike snapped in two. I took the brunt of the impact — flew over the car like Superman and skidded across the street. I got a gnarly gash from it on my chest. But I’m rebuilding the bike. As it is written. What does riding give you that nothing else can?The breeze on my knees, brother. Riding takes something from me and gives something to me. Sex might come close, maybe. I’ve ridden through pain, loss, wrecks, and bullshit — but the breeze never lied to me. That’s church. That’s therapy. You’ll never meet a motherfucker like me that don’t give less of a shit about anything other than that breeze. You’ve toured the world with Mastodon. Did you ride during your travels?Hell yeah. I was the only guy in Mastodon who rode. I’d be like, “Dudes, let’s rent bikes,” and they’d be like, “What?” So, I went solo. Israel, New Zealand, Hawai’i, the Black Sea — you name it. I’ve never been to a country without renting a motorcycle. Music is my profession. Riding is my religion. Jerimiah_Smith You were a guest on Ride with Norman Reedus. What was that like?I love Norman — I consider him my biker brother. We’ve had some great times riding and getting tattoos together — we both got Lemmy tattoos after Lemmy Kilmister from Motörhead died. What’s your most memorable motorcycle ride?My favorite was probably when I rode all day in Hawai’i with our Mastodon crew — tour manager and sound guys. They don’t have a helmet law either, so we were just out there exposed all fucking day. We got scorched — 12 hours, no sunscreen. So stupid. I’ll never forget that day. What’s the best part about the biker community?If you see anyone pushing a bike, what do you do? You pull over, and you help. You don’t know them, but you will. That’s what biker culture is — instant loyalty. Acceptance. Doesn’t matter if you’re a doctor, janitor, or rock star. Might not speak your language, but you’ll remember them for the rest of your life. That’s not just culture — that’s code. And man, it’s way different in music — people get fanatical. They always want something from you — photos, autographs, attention. They pester the shit out of you. Not in motorcycling — everyone’s on the same level. It doesn’t matter who you are. Like, sure, I think it would’ve been cool to meet Sonny Barger or Indian Larry — but they were just bikers. I wouldn’t chase them down or harass them. That’s not what riding’s about. We nod. We roll on. You must have ridden most of the iconic roads across America.Fuck all these named roads — the Cherohala Skyway, the Dragon’s Tail. Anywhere with a nickname is a death trap because everyone’s out there trying to perform. I want to ride where no one’s watching. Give me an empty road, some bad pavement, a chopper that might not make it, and I’m happy. Do you have a bucket-list ride in mind?There ain’t a place on this earth — or any other — that I don’t want to ride. But Japan is calling to me. I want to ride with those cool Japanese motherfuckers on their badass bikes. They’ve taken our motorcycle culture and made their own, and it’s beautiful. What’s the greatest life lesson motorcycles have taught you?Find what you love in life — what makes your heart sing — and never let it go. People think music is my life, but music’s my profession — it’s not my hobby. I ride motorcycles because I love it. It’s the only time I feel fully like myself. I don’t ride to look cool. I don’t ride for Instagram. I ride because it saves me. You want to understand who l am? Watch me on a bike. That’s the real Brent. Everything else is just noise.
Music Intelligence
2026-10-20