Barely 21 years old, The Judies’ singer and keyboardist Warren Ullom has done a lot of living; and, if he can survive his own excesses, he plans to do much more. Originally from Ohio, then rural Georgia, Ullom came to Atlanta at age 19 with the modest goals of starting a revolution, living out his own penthouse fantasy and having his band finance a trip into outer space. For The Judies, not even the sky is the limit.

Founded less than two years ago by Ullom and bassist Mike Sprinkel, the band is already at a crucial juncture, polishing its still-nameless first album. “It’s a full-length,” Ullom quips, “with singles, and, ah, singles ... and lots of singles.” Although slated to be the first official Judies release, the album is Ullom’s sixth self-released, full-length effort. The difference now is not just the shared performance with new bandmates, but also Ullom’s unapologetic quest for record sales. “I plan on being more productive than Brian Wilson,” he says.

“Did You Did You Not,” which will likely be one of the album’s first singles, has leaked onto several iPods and laptops in the Atlanta area and beyond, and the response has been smashing. Word-of-mouth promotion has been kind to The Judies, so public anticipation for the full-length has been growing exponentially. The trick now is to have the CD ready when the hype reaches its crescendo.

Engineers and producers Tim DeLaney and Gary Pfaff (The Selmanaires, Tim Brantley) are tracking and mixing the album at their Atlanta studio, Electron Gardens. Located in the basement of the historic Biltmore hotel in midtown, the studio somehow boasts a huge, 1,100-square-foot tracking room, which helps achieve truly great drum sounds.

Although Pfaff and DeLaney offer suggestions, the final creative decisions are left to the band. “Tim and Gary are the shit,” Ullom says, enthused about the progress thus far. The respect is mutual. Pfaff describes Ullom’s style as “loungy, yet ... he’s got this Iggy Pop presence and delivery, with David Bowie sensibilities.”

Those sensibilities were squandered when Ullom first arrived in town. In 2005, his first Atlanta gig was simultaneously playing drums and keys for Half Moon: a technically inept, but visually engaging local act. His time was divided between filling out Half Moon’s songs and working on his own, which went on to become part of the current Judies catalog. Half Moon eventually asked Ullom to choose, in essence kicking him out of the band. This process is the musical equivalent of drafting Roger Clemens, making him play outfield and then sending him back to the minors. Though Ullom’s tenure with Half Moon was short-lived, it introduced him to some of the venues he now frequents and people with whom he now performs.

Guitarist Matt Greenia, the band’s newest addition, got to know Ullom this way. “It was a result of seeing Warren around, partying and spilling beer all over Kyle Gordon at The [Drunken] Unicorn and getting kicked out,” Greenia concedes. “Then he started playing out with The Judies. I first saw them at Smith’s [Olde Bar, in Atlanta] and thought it would be simple punk rock — but it had all these other elements,” he adds. One night, Ullom and Greenia got together and jammed until 6 a.m., but didn’t officially join forces until months later. “Warren was ready to pick up the mic and put down the guitar,” Greenia says. “He asked around, and my name came up a few times.”

The two eventually became roommates, enabling them to frequently flesh out ideas late into the night. “Matt is phenomenal,” Ullom says, “and I bounce shit off of him all the time.” Ullom also has a similar attitude regarding drummer Adam Hopkinson: “Adam is so jazzy ... he’s only been playing the drums for like, two-and-a-half years, and he’s way better than most drummers I see or play with.” Mike Sprinkel played bass in high school jazz band, so he too contributes to the jazzy element of The Judies’ music. Their background and expertise have given Ullom the confidence to let go of the guitar and let loose on the microphone. “These guys are not going to fuck up,” he says, “and if they do fuck up, they’re going to bust their ass[es] to make sure it doesn’t happen again, and I’m not going to have to say shit.”

In addition to late-night jamming and writing sessions, Ullom and Greenia make plans for long-term world domination and muse about their future penthouse. “Matt and I talk about the penthouse all the time ... it’s gonna be our headquarters. Instead of just lounging around, we’ll really come up with some Batman shit up there ... I got all kinds of plans.”

The unique flavor of The Judies starts with Ullom’s unlimited guitar technique; he writes jazz, classical and rock riffs, usually smearing genres together, and the songs blossom from there. Being such a proficient player, he has puzzled some listeners with his recent choice to perform without a guitar. For Ullom, however, the six string is a hindrance to his on-stage persona and vocal delivery. “I might be a damn good driver, but if I’ve got a limo, I’m not going to drive it,” he reasons. Citing Frank Sinatra as an influence, Ullom believes that putting everything into a vocal performance requires the type of focus that cannot be divided. His smooth, confident delivery and powerful sustain borrow from the crooner era, and he somehow gets away with singing words like “baby” without scrutiny. “That’s the great thing about being just a singer,” he says. “You only have to remember the words.”

Despite his chops, Ullom does not want to be seen as a musician, or even a songwriter. He considers himself a multi-faceted artist — a painter and a writer — to be viewed from various angles but never held down to one perspective. He states, with conviction, “I’ll forever be a renaissance man.”

His timing may be perfect. Atlanta’s rock scene is going through a renaissance of its own, poking out and shining amid a sea of cliché rap and R&B acts hoarding national attention. “We’re an R&B band,” he jokes. “We are all R&B bands here in Atlanta. There is no room for rock ‘n’ roll.” Lately, The Judies have shared the stage with peers like KillGordon, Variac and Bishop Don. Operating with their current roster for less than four months, The Judies are the youngest of these bands — and, at barely 21 years old, Ullom is the youngest frontman in the clique. “I’m the first of my generation,” he contests, “not the last of yours.”

The Judies’ quick, linear success is partly due to their ability to mix the old with the new, the formal with the irreverent and the advanced with the classic. From quoting both Beck and Harry Nilsson as influences to using both old and new gear, they blur timelines and come up with something all their own. Greenia, for example, blends the sounds of both a 1960s Silvertone tube case-amp with a more modern, solid state Crate amp to get his stage tone.

For Ullom, however, the gear is merely a means to an end, a way to communicate his ideas. He views his peer bands’ insistence on using vintage equipment as almost silly, requiring constant maintenance and prolonged set-up time. The time, Ullom reasons, would be better spent maintaining vibe and enthusiasm than playing hurry-up-and-wait. “It’s all just fucking bullshit, doesn’t matter,” he states coyly.

Ullom acquired his first guitar at age 13, and it set a precedent for him. “For Christmas, my dad asked if I wanted a guitar. He said I could get a black Fender Squire Strat or a glammed-out, bright orange Ibanez RG. I went with that. I got the greatest guitar ever made ... for speed metal. The neck was paper-thin; you can fly all over that thing. I took some lessons, to learn chords and scales, for six months.” When asked if he would still choose the orange Ibanez over the Fender, he states “definitely.”

For several years after acquiring his orange Ibanez, Ullom learned to play the songs of musicians he admired, and he claims to be able to perform eight to 12 hours’ worth of cover material. The repetition and attention to detail aided him through the years as he developed his own sound. At home, Ullom wrote and self-produced song after song, usually linking them together both thematically and musically. In fact, all five of his previous albums have been themed, and The Judies’ MySpace hit “Rainyday Roads,” which will be included on the new full-length, was originally penned for one such album.

Now firmly planted in Atlanta’s rock scene, The Judies have been accruing a loyal following that increases with each public appearance they make. “People started asking,” Ullom says, “Who are these guys? These guys are crazy, and they have all the drugs.”

Despite the band members’ proven reputations as hedonistic debauchers, they take their rehearsals very seriously. “Yesterday’s practice I was pretty Neo-Nazi, which was fun,” Ullom says. “We’ve got a radio silence rule. If we’re not all playing, no one is playing.”

Strict, efficient rehearsals are what make their live show so tight and allow their frontman to do his thing. On stage, Ullom’s lanky, towering body takes turns writhing behind the mic stand, hunching over the keyboard and (usually) swigging Jameson’s whiskey. His typical uniform: tight jeans that hang a little too low, motorcycle boots (for riding his motorcycle, of course) and a black leather jacket unzipped to reveal his hairless chest.

Show after show, Warren Ullom steps down from the stage to reveal that he is still taller than anyone in the room. He wears the tightest jeans, fronts the tightest band and lives his own larger-than-life lyrics. With a strong buzz both in his head and on the streets and a near-complete record in tow, he carries more on his shoulders than his skinny frame could possibly indicate. And he is just getting started.

“Make sure you get my name right,” he says. “It’s a joke to us, how often people fuck it up. But in the future, no one will ever misspell my name again.”

www.myspace.com/thejudies