Five different boulevards of broken dreams intersected at the soothing hands of bassist Dave Kauffman, a ginger love god who bar tends on the days he's not photographing swimsuit models.

Guitarist Kyle Siegel, a willowing, olive-complexioned stud, ventured to Europe in the hopes of erupting into the globe's next male model sensation. He left in crushing defeat, after months of casting agents deeming his look less than edgy. After perusing Boston's upscale Copley Mall, pacing past the Louis Vuitton, Gucci and Burberry displays and dreaming what a life of editorial posing could have been, Kyle ambled into Legal Seafoods restaurant, a hallmark of culinary and alcoholic delights. He walked directly up to the bar and sat in front of the best-looking redheaded bartender on this side of the Mississippi. His life would never be the same.

The fit, foxy lover of all things German served Kyle a sexy, sparkling rum and champagne concoction to soothe his heartbreak and utter depletion of purpose in life. The way Dave artfully mixed an elixir of hope was a precursor to the way the smooth, low notes of his bass would make even the most committed of dames desperately confess their love for him.

But it wasn't only Kyle who was forever changed by Dave's cocktail shaker. Songbird Troy Ramey found himself alongside Kyle in Dave's caring hands, after returning from a brief stint in rehab. Though jovial and entertaining on the surface, Troy delved too deep into hallucinogens in an attempt to reach new heights of musical creativity. Alcohol was off-limits, so Troy looked to a gently shaken pomegranate lemonade from Dave, one of the few friends who stuck by his side through the darkest of days. This introduction is where the most emotive of music was born, combining Kyle's heart-wrenching sense of failure with Troy's ex-addict anguish to create striking chords and penetrating, yet inspiring melodies.

Drummer Dave Bates brings the powerful cadence one could only expect from an ex-linebacker. Big Dave switched from pounding opponents on the defensive line for the the University of Alabama to pounding drums after a fluke injury left him with a torn groin and a truncated football career. After moving to Boston for a dramatic change of pace, he met Dave, Troy and Kyle while bouncing at a bar they frequented in the fledgling days of their three-person band. His energetic beats give their songs a rhythm that forces one to get up and dance whenever you hear them.

Guitarist James Bridges rounds out the band with a bohemian, free-spirited vibe. James spent years trying to find himself, through every manner of personal experimentation possible, from a Jack Kerouac-esque Buddhist quest to a year of waking with a different woman in his bed every morning. He has truly found himself in The Vigilantes, though. James inched his way into the band after weeks of listening to the band practice in their rehearsal space in Brighton, a hipster neighborhood that encompassed James' latest identity crisis. Sensing his deep need for purpose in life, the members welcomed the raven-haired, carefully bearded Maine native. They love the thoughtful but upbeat quality his outdoorsy handsomeness lends to the group.

Soaring vocals, playful melodies, deep bass undertones and grooving beats make The Vigilantes impossible to forget. Their music is every bit as profound, captivating and entertaining as the backgrounds of its individual members. The band has every prospect of becoming legendary for reasons far beyond it's members' looks and charm.