8 a.m.: It's not an easy wake-up time for a college student, but I have to rise or I'll miss my 9 a.m. ride to New York. My companion for this journey is Neal Ludevig '08, and there are big things in store for him at the other end of the road. It's 8:49 a.m. when I roll out of bed, and someone left the window in my suite open. It's freezing. At 9 a.m. I'm stepping out of the shower and my phone is ringing (or rather techno dance beating). It's Neal. I try to lie and tell him I'm just putting on my shoes when he cuts me off and says he just woke up. Whew.

When we step outside, it's warmer than it's been in months, and it feels wonderful. So, after a quick prayer to Odin One-Eye for a good journey, we're floating down I-90 to the tune of ABBA's "Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)," scarfing down tuna sandwiches and "hot dogging" fruit cups. Unfortunately, the euphoria is cut short by a shorter-fused cop with a serious volume issue (Damn you, Odin One-Eye!). But after a stern talking-to and a beefy ticket, we were on the move again.

Our destination is Yorktown Heights, N.Y., a placid Everytown (I took my drivers license exam there!) nestled in plump-pocketed Westchester County. Our first stop is the local Starbucks, where we find a shaggy, hoodied T.J. Dumser chatting enthusiastically on his cell outside. T.J. is the lead guitarist and backing vocalist for the The Scarlet, rock star seedling and winner of SPIN Magazine's Hot Pursuit competition, which sought the next big breakout music act. Beating out over 5,000 other bands, The Scarlet was declared the winner by rock juggernauts Perry Farrell and Tim Kasher, as well as SPIN editor Doug Brod.

T.J. asked Neal, a friend from high school and former musical collaborator, to join the band at the beginning of February to be the alto saxophone player. "I originally thought it was a one shot deal. I didn't think it was going to amount to anything," Ludevig says. Fortunately, he was mistaken. In addition to playing weekly club shows, the band will perform this month during the South by Southwest Festival in Austin, Texas.

Neal is just one of many students whose off-campus accomplishments and activities go unnoticed. Something of a renaissance student, Neal pulls duties in Starving Artists and jazz ensemble, plays intramural basketball and also serves on the Student Union Judiciary. His tastes in the arts are nothing if not varied. Even as we sped in reverse down a windy road, Neal was transfixed by his iPod, intent on finding that perfect song, even if that meant killing us both in a horrible accident.

Our next destination is the home of lead vocalist and piano player Marc Spatafore. After Neal rouses him from his afternoon couch-slumber, we head down to the basement, which also serves as the band's rehearsal space. Speckled with multicolored Christmas lights, candelabras, piles of broken drumsticks and cigarettes, it bears the scars of a well-worn hang out.

As the rest of the band trickles in, warming up on their instruments, the room comes to life. Once everyone is in place, with Ian McGuiness on drums and Rob Flanz on bass, practice begins. On first listen it's hard not to be impressed with their tightness and professionalism. After a few bars, it's clear that this is no bimonthly jam session; these guys are dead serious about their craft.

Their sound is also incredibly catchy. Imagine The Strokes, only with a horn section, innovative song structures, enthusiasm, talent and a knack for hooks and humor. The list goes on. It's a light, airy sound. It's the kind where you walk along to the beat with a smirk. The guitar and piano chirp along, all with Neal's saxophone cutting across the top, carrying some of the catchier melodies all on its own.

After four hours of rehearsal, my ears are a little fuzzy (I shouldn't have turned down that pair of ear plugs for hygiene reasons), but it's far from over. It's time to cram the gear into one car and the band into the other and head into Manhattan for a show at the Annex club. We get there three hours early, and there are more than enough crummy openers to sit through, so it's time for drinks.

Sitting at a table in the back corner, shouting over the horrendous band on stage, Spatafore vents his grievances about the band's apparent success. Though The Scarlet's victory in the Hot Pursuit contest has garnered a deal with Original Signal, a subsidiary of Sony/Epic, it's not time to celebrate yet. Arguments over creative freedom, as well as the need for a real manager, have made recording and releasing their music even more difficult. "Everyone is just trying to run you for money," yells Spatafore over the sound of a mellotron. Yet he remains optimistic about his future in music. When asked how far he wants to take the band he responds, "I don't know. I really love the guys in my band. But what I really love is production. I love working with new people, interpreting their sound."

Finally the band hauls its gear up on stage and starts the show, now joined by the other half of the horn section, trumpet player Eric Tait. After hours of terrible bands and plenty of drinks, the crowd welcomes The Scarlet like heroes. Seconds into the first song, the crowd is swing dancing across the floor (or in my case, windmilling) and singing along. The band even managed to work the Batman theme song into one of their numbers, a surefire nerd pleaser. What a night indeed.

Outside, munching on a couple loaves of restaraunt bread, Ludevig, who is graduating a year early, vented his feelings about the band and his future. "It doesn't seem very real. It doesn't seem realistic to do music professionally. I'm just along for the ride," he says. But unlike most modern college students, Ludevig isn't afraid to take a risk with his life and career: "I'm going take this as far as I believe it can go." Fortunately for him, the way his band is headed now, it doesn't seem like much of a risk at all.