Welcome to the White Light Archives
by Rob Haeuser
(Last updated June 16, 2007)

More than 30 years ago a dream nearly became a reality. White Light, first formed in New Orleans in the late 60's, and later resurrected by founding members Rob Haeuser and Mike Hobren in Austin, Texas during the mid-70's, ended its journey with the passing of Bill Josey, a man who helped Austin become the musical powerhouse it is today. Bill first set the stage by broadcasting radio shows live from local clubs. He went on to establish one of Austin's premier record labels, Sonobeat Records. He recorded and produced Johnny Winter's debut album, and first recorded guitarist Eric Johnson when he was barely 15 years old. He had an ear for talent that ultimately led him to make a proposal in the fall of 1975: he would produce a work-tape for a concept album written and performed by a band unlike any other he had worked with before - White Light. What follows is a brief glimpse into what can make, and break, a band...

New Orleans, Louisiana, 1967

White Light was founded by Rob Haeuser (Bass guitar), Mike Hobren (Lead guitar), Tracy Pfisterer (Drums), Dennis Saucier (Rhythm guitar), and Jayce Tohline (Vocals). While others were playing Dixieland and Blues, White Light focused on what we considered the future of music: Progressive Rock. Bands like Jimi Hendrix ("Purple Haze"), The Vanilla Fudge ("You Keep Me Hangin' On"), and The Doors ("Light My Fire") epitomized the sound White Light was developing. In fact, we played "Light My Fire" even though we didn't have a keyboardist.

We were all underage, but that didn't stop us from gigging in Uptown bars like The Rathskeller, cruising the Mississippi on the riverboat Mark Twain, or bringing down the house at Tulane fraternities like Sigma Nu. Possibly our strangest gig was on November 5, 1968, when we provided the entertainment for Richard Nixon's election celebration, sponsored by the Tulane Young Republicans.

The band split up in early 1969, less than 2 years after its inception. College life was looming large, and the age disparity between the youngest and oldest members had become a hindrance to real progress. While some of us (Rob and Mike) went on to form or join other bands, the rest apparently dropped out of the music scene entirely. It seemed that White Light was dead and buried.

Austin, Texas, 1974
For reasons too numerous to mention, I joined the Air Force, ending up at Bergstrom AFB in Austin, Texas. In September 1973 I drove from New Orleans to Austin in a rattle-trap Ford stationwagon, stuffed with all my worldly possessions. I was convinced I had died in my sleep and was headed straight to musician's hell. After all, Texas was home to country-western and Willie Nelson wannabes. A few miles outside of town I picked up a local radio station, and much to my surprise, they were playing Purple Haze! Perhaps I had misjudged Austin.

Over the years my musical ambitions evolved, and I abandoned the standard model for starting a band: Find some players, work up a few top-40-hit sets, and go play the bars. Instead, I focused entirely on all-original material in the genre of bands like Yes and Genesis. The only problem was finding musicians that shared my vision.

Prior to White Light, I had played briefly with my brother Rusty, a drummer. Although polar opposites, he and I shared a common musical heritage that transcended personalities. Sometime after I left NOLA, he and Mike Hobren crossed paths in "Shepard's Bush". Mike and Rusty left that band after a few months. The other guitarist, Randy Jackson, was really into Led Zeppelin. He morphed Shepard's Bush into Zebra, moved to New York, and in 1983 released their self-titled album with the hit "Who's Behind The Door?".

Although out of touch for some time, I contacted Mike and Rusty and discovered that they were both available. I described the Austin music scene, how it was open to progressive thinking, and my plan to resurrect White Light as an all-original jazz-fusion band. I was living in a small farmhouse southeast of town, and suggested that they join me. They agreed, and moved to Austin in September, 1974.

Clicking immediately, we began a series of extended jam sessions to flesh out our concepts. We jammed for hours on end, periodically hitting on themes that formed the core of our new sound. The spontaneity was sometimes magical, as if we could read each other's minds. It's a good thing I had a tape recorder, because the ideas were coming fast.

We decided that the resurrected White Light would be a 3-piece band, with Mike on guitars and vocals, me on bass guitar and keyboards, and Rusty on percussion and flute. Even as a 3-piece, our full, intricate sound convinced the audience we had more personnel on stage.

We rehearsed for months before even considering performing live. Our music was multi-textured, with a complexity that rivaled the most progressive bands of the day. The audience didn't know the difference between our "skeleton" versions and the full pieces, but we did. All along, the idea was to bypass the local scene if at all possible. Not to say that we wouldn't play local gigs; the experience is invaluable, and it's just plain fun. But the theory was that if the music was good enough, the need to develop a large local following to impress the recording companies could be sidestepped. It turns out that we were right, and circumstances almost proved it.