Ludo is fired up and ready to play on the national stage

A mass of arctic air has made its descent into Des Moines when Ludo arrives at the House of Bricks. Some 35 hardy Iowan souls who've braved sub-zero weather are scattered around the barroom. By the look of the meager turnout, it's hard to imagine that just three weeks prior a crowd of 2,000 packed the Pageant for the rock band's annual Christmas-themed spectacle.

Lead singer Andrew Volpe takes the stage wearing a bright green cardigan sweater and white dress loafers. Moog player Tim Convy sports a worn yellow T-shirt, while a tear in guitarist Tim Ferrell's jeans reveals the long johns that have come in handy on this frigid night. Ludo launches into their better-known songs as the small crowd nods their approval. With urging from Convy, the audience claps to "Hum Along." Catchy pop-rock with a comic narrative twist, the 2003 tune is one that helped the St. Louis band cement a solid following.

The Des Moines show is part of the quintet's nineteen-city Midwest romp to herald the release of its new album, You're Awful, I Love You, due out on Island Records early next week. Ludo introduces a host of still-unreleased tracks before ending the set with its irreverent cover of Faith No More's "Epic."

Grins break out as people recognize the 1989 alt-metal hit. In arena-rock style, Volpe struts and lunges, his pompadour and thrift-store getup adding to the mocking tone of the performance. As "Epic" reaches full crescendo, Volpe indulges in an extra round of soulful vocals, prompting bassist Marshall Fanciullo — standing back near drummer Matt Palermo — to flash an amused, there-he-goes-again glance.

In an era dominated by overwrought emo acts, Ludo's playfulness drew the attention of label representatives. Before signing with Island in November 2006, the band fielded offers from Capitol Records, as well as three independent labels. Now Ludo stands on the verge of becoming the next big thing from St. Louis.

"I think there's room now for bands that are going to have fun," says Capitol's Jaime Feldman, one of the artist-and-repertoire managers who courted Ludo. "The band has fantastic personality and showmanship," he says. "They have set up a really nice fan base they can build upon in the Midwest."

The last local rock act to seize national attention was Story of the Year, the screamo pioneers whose 2003 debut, Page Avenue, sold nearly 850,000 copies. Ludo is still counting down the days until their own album's release date, but Island's backing is paying off. Top 40 radio stations in Detroit and Atlanta — cities Ludo has never played — are spinning the single "Love Me Dead." At the same time, Island has booked Ludo as the opening act for Presidents of the United States of America, whose self-titled album went double platinum in 1996.

The tour will grant Ludo access to the same crowds who embraced the Presidents when they emerged from the Seattle grunge scene with songs like "Kitty" and "Peaches." Ludo, which takes its name from the gentle monster in the movie Labyrinth, has a similarly quirky appeal. Friends of the band describe its music as "Weezer meets Queen." Absolutepunk.net reviewer Garett Press calls it "nerdy pop-rock." He says, "You picture [Volpe] being a skinny dude with glasses, but at the same time, he can wail."

Tim Ferrell says the band has paid its dues. "If this takes off, people will say we came out of nowhere." But, he adds, "We slept on floors for five years."

The story of the power-pop quintet that pulled itself up by the guitar strap is a lesson in how any band succeeds these days. Ludo has toured constantly enough to wear out two vans over the past four years. They'd go anywhere — Leavenworth, Kansas, or Wheaton, Illinois — just to reach an audience and peddle its self-produced CD, Ludo.

Phil Kosch of Chicago-based Treaty of Paris says he knew Ludo was driven when it agreed on short notice to join his band for a free show in Naperville, Illinois. "They were just taking every opportunity to build [audiences] up here," he says. "We kind of neglected to tell them it was under a canopy, next to a river with this really bad sound system. They sold $500 worth of merch and did really well."

Ludo worked up to dates on the Vans Warped Tour and sought-after venues like Mississippi Nights. The band surprised and impressed critics with its follow-up album in 2005, a five-song rock opera about a heartbroken time traveler, Broken Bride. The EP incorporated a range of musical influences and reinforced Ludo's reputation for having theatrical flair. Absolutepunk's press raved that the band had delivered the perfect concept album, calling them "great storytellers."

While awaiting the release of You're Awful, which was to come out last fall, the group made its own video to promote its first single. Band members ham it up while brushing their teeth, and fans, who submitted clips, lip-synch "Love Me Dead" in front of bathroom mirrors. Fans flocked to the "tooth-brushing video" on YouTube. Then at live shows, they snatched up $1 toothbrushes stamped with Ludo's double-cherry logo.

"They're the hardest working band — on the promotion side of things — out there," says Brian Roberts of Ha Ha Tonka, a former touring partner from Springfield, Missouri. If Island's effort is as strong Ludo's, Roberts predicts, "Sky's the limit."

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Andrew Volpe started writing what became Ludo's first songs when he was at John Burroughs School. After class, he'd park his car at Schnucks and scribble down lyrics, including an early version of "Hum Along." Many fans have memorized the song, which takes the old boy-pines-for-girl story to a new height with a preposterous daydream narrative: Maybe you'd be kidnapped by pirates/And they would take you to their hideout/As pirates often do/But I'd find the secret map/And I would vigilante-bushwhack/Through the jungles of Peru/Just to save you.

Volpe delivers more colorful songwriting with "Love Me Dead," a morbidly funny take on the inexplicable magnetism of a damaging affair: Kill me romantically/Fill my soul with vomit/Then ask me for a piece of gum/Bitter and dumb/You're my sugarplum/You're awful, I love you!

An official, bigger-budget video for "Love Me Dead" interprets the song in a literal, vaudeville style. "I can just tell Andrew's been through the works in the theater classes," Beverly Hills-based director Scott Culver says. "He's very animated."

As a kid Volpe was cast in local commercials and in a Muny production of Bye Bye Birdie. He prefers to describe himself as a music nerd who tried to resist the urge to pursue rock stardom. "I spent a long time trying to come up with something more 'adult' to do, something more easily mentioned in a group of one's parents' friends," he says. "After a while I was like, 'Who am I kidding?'"

Volpe started planning to form a band after his sophomore year at Washington University. He and a music buddy from Burroughs, Dave Heltibrand, looked for a guitarist who wanted to play three-minute songs, not the "acousticy nonsense" that seemed to interest everyone else around them. Ferrell, a Saint Louis University High School graduate who was home from Notre Dame on summer break, answered their ad.

Ferrell struck Volpe as a little too preppy, but that impression changed as soon as he started shredding, Volpe says, breaking into an air-guitar lick for emphasis. A vegan who meditates for two and a half hours daily, Ferrell is anything but preppy. He notes that at the time, Volpe was squatting in an apartment near Wash. U. Ferrell says he remembers thinking, "This guy is a disaster." But Ferrell also recognized the creative energy: "What's the point of starting a band with boring people?"

The entire Ludo lineup is an odd yet complementary mix. Baby-faced Matt Palermo studies technique DVDs and doesn't have much to say unless it's about drumming. Stick-thin and stoic, Ferrell is another dedicated musician; he's been playing since age six and spent his spare time last year building a microtonal guitar.

Marshall Fanciullo, the bassist, has a dry sense of humor that plays off Volpe's cartoonish antics. A graphic designer, he also supplies the artwork for the band's merchandise and album covers. Convy is gregarious, reaching out to the crowd from behind the Moog. Offstage, he's the band's business liaison. Volpe, whose attention span is so short that he forgot about making the tooth-brushing video, says he gravitated toward people who would bolster his weaknesses. "Early on I felt like Ludo was something that needed to have other people's mark on it."