White Soul and Bittersweet (1991)

Green is the vehicle of certified Chicago demi-genius Jeff Lescher, whose consuming ambition, utter mastery of the pop song, and obsessive plaints on the subjects of love, redemption, and capital-S stardom give his new album, White Soul, the feel of a world-class breakthrough. ''She's Heaven,'' driven by a tonsil-rattling backbeat by drummer Mark Mosher and Lescher's protean, soaring vocal, states the band's case plainly: Buttressing it are tracks like ''Night After Night,'' which sounds like a Purple Rain outtake, the soulful strut of ''Bittersweet'' (title song of a six-track EP tacked on to the end of the CD), and, finally, the goofy, gorgeous ''The Record Company Song,'' a fantastical rock & roll epic worthy of Ray Davies or Ian Hunter. Its subject? Stardom — that word again. Awash with guitars by turns chiming, grinding, and plangent, and marked distinctively by Lescher's supple, keening voice, White Soul is vibrant, giddy, alive. It's terrific from start to finish.