Hailing from Athens, Ga., a town whose rich musical legacy we all know, The Whigs cite influences from Elephant 6 bands like Olivia Tremor Control to local heroes The Glands. With a distinctive Southern twang, The Whigs’ 2005 debut LP, Give ‘Em all a Big Fat Lip, married gruff-voiced Replacements swagger to the Glands’ 3 a.m. stoned slow-motion genius. Out of the gate, Rolling Stone dubbed The Whigs the best unsigned band in America. Six years and four albums later, the band is still on the verge of “overnight” success. The long haul seems to have exacted a toll, because The Whigs have sanded down their Southern jangle and garage rock ID. Indeed, subsequent LPs play like a mélange of ’90s alt-rock styles pushed through a power-pop filter. Hooks and harmonies from the Foo Fighters rub shoulders with guitars that roll like Pavement or rumble like Guided by Voices. It’s to The Whigs’ credit that none of this sounds like pastiche, and while recent songs have even toned down the guitars, the ghost of Paul Westerberg still hovers in the periphery. Still, in grabbing for the brass ring, The Whigs have lost their sense of lo-fi mystery.