Garage bands the world over toil in virtual anonymity, oftentimes believing that if they could just get the attention of a major label — any label for that matter — it would be enough to punch their ticket to instant popularity.

The misnomer being that signing with a major label leads to being on the radio, filming a video and eventually being featured on MTV followed by award nominations and so on and so forth.

For some bands — and very few at that — the story unfolds in a fairly similar fashion, but for most the story merely unravels, and that's exactly how the biography for The Damnwells plays out.

Formed in 2001, the group was the band from Brooklyn that never initially intended on being a band until one thing led to another, and they found themselves apprehensively playing a gig. Soon thereafter The Damnwells - Alex Dezen, Ted Hudson, David Chernis and Steve Terry - emerged as one of New York's more buzzed about bands.

A few short years later, in 2003, the group embarked on a nationwide do-it-yourself tour, and in late 2004 the group were offered a major label deal with Epic. Unfortunately, the band that never intended on being a band in the first place thought it may well have bought a ticket to stardom.

In fact, they were so sure that when Dezen's friend Chris Suchorsky asked if he could document the life of the next big thing, naturally, the band said yes.

"The idea was to make a film about our eventual success," Dezen said, "our ride into the sunset, which obviously didn't happen."

In March of '05 the band entered a New York studio where it spent six months recording a major label debut - The Damnwells ticket to the big time; or so they thought. The closer the group came to completing the album, the further away the release date seemed to be getting.

By the time the band delivered the album — mid-summer — there was no release date to speak of, and Suchorsky found himself in the midst of a far more prolific documentary - "Golden Days" - than had been originally planned.

"I didn't make this movie," Dezen explained, "I just did what I did, but you can't praise the film without cringing … and, yeah, there were times we were like, 'You aren't going to put that in the movie are you?' "

With that obviously being the humility and honesty of human struggle and the tenacity of a band unwilling to give up or give in.

That said for most the story would have ended in January of 2006, when Dezen received the unforeseen phone call that the band was being released from their Epic contract and that the project would be shelved.

"You don't want to define yourself that way," Dezen recalled. "You do it because you love doing it."

And with that, The Damnwells traded in the band's ticket for the big time in lieu of the do-it-yourself mentality.

No, the group didn't need a major label and, no, it didn't need someone else doing the work for them. They were, after all, capable of doing the work themselves, and if nothing else, it provided them an opportunity to redefine their goals along with making it all the more obvious as to their real intentions.

It was at that point that Rounder Records, who had previously approach The Damnwells when they "thought they should go with the big opportunity" — approached the band again about working together . Within two weeks, the label offered the group an indie deal that, low and behold, was to the band's liking.

"It's hard to say whether we should have gone with Rounder to begin with or not," Dezen pontificated, "but this definitely bolsters our confidence and makes it easier to do our job."

The Damnwells were able to persevere, and with that, the group has been able to rise above the challenge to find another path to success — one that called for Matt Hammon to replace drummer Steve Terry — that comes from nothing more and nothing less than good old-fashioned hard work.

Currently this means a national co-headlining tour with fellow Brooklyn resident Ari Hest in support of the band's recently released album "Air Stereo." The tour makes its way to The Map Room Friday night.

In the meantime, Suchorsky culled through upwards of 160 hours of footage in order to cut together a 90-minute documentary - "Golden Days" - that has been critically heralded and widely regarded as an impressive and cohesive narrative.

It's real. It's honest. It's what being in a band is really like.

Keith Ryan Cartwright is a Nashville-based freelance entertainment journalist.