This is the real secret weapon of Los Angeles 1967 psychedelia – a record that sat on the shelves unappreciated, overlooked, passed over, only to bloom into something approaching legendary status decades later. Clear Light's sole studio effort for Elektra Records represents one of those singular moments in rock history when everything aligned perfectly, then fell apart just as quickly. The fact that it exists at all is something approaching miraculous. The Los Angeles aggregate that became Clear Light started life as The Brain Train in 1966. Led by guitarist Bob Seal, the group featured Robbie Robinson on rhythm guitar, Doug Lubahn on bass, and the extraordinary double-drum setup of Dallas Taylor and Michael Ney. They recorded a single on the Titan label before Elektra Records came calling. That's when everything got complicated. The Doors' producer Paul Rothchild took over management and the studio was where things got brutal.
Rothchild's creative vision clashed with the band's original concept. During recording at Elektra and later at Sunset Sound Recorders – which had just upgraded to 8-track technology – tensions mounted. Rothchild questioned Robison's guitar abilities. The band recruited keyboardist Ralph Schuckett. Cliff De Young came in on vocals. What emerged was a compromise, a version of the band that doesn't fully match the cover photograph (which still features Robinson, while the inner sleeve shows Schuckett). This kind of dysfunction usually kills records. Not this one.
What strikes you immediately about Clear Light is the unconventional architecture of sound. That double-drum setup – Taylor and Ney playing in stereo separation – gives the record an otherworldly quality. Listen to how Let's Talk About Girls unfolds: those drums seem to come from different dimensions entirely, creating a wash of percussion that feels simultaneously structured and chaotic. The keyboards of Schuckett drift through the mix like smoke – creamy, deliberate, never intrusive. Lubahn's bass anchors everything with authority; Seal's guitar work combines folk sensibilities with psychedelic distortion.
The album walks an interesting tightrope between gentle and menacing. The Ballad of Freddie & Larry is almost whimsical, a waltz-like number with Schuckett's organ weaving through. Then comes Mr. Blue – six minutes of sinister beauty, a psychedelic reinterpretation of Tom Paxton's folk composition. This track became a fixture on underground radio, never released as a single yet somehow everyone knew it. The lyrics conjure paranoia: "The old organ grinder has just gone insane and his monkey lies dead – choked to death by his chains." Not exactly summer-of-love sentiment. With All in Mind, They Who Have Nothing, Black Roses – all Seal compositions – carry a literary weight, a serious artistic ambition uncommon in garage rock.
The recording only peaked at number 126 on the Billboard chart. The band had other issues. Internal disagreements with management. Personality conflicts. By 1968 it was over, a second album abandoned after just two songs recorded. De Young went on to become an actor in over 80 films. Seal drifted into other projects. Schuckett played on The Monkees' Porpoise Song and other sessions. Lubahn became the Doors' bassist, playing on Strange Days, Waiting for the Sun, The Soft Parade.
For years the record was mostly forgotten, tossed aside, overlooked by everyone except serious collectors. Then the late 1980s garage rock revival began changing perspectives. Reissues came and went – some sounding flat, missing the original stereo imaging, failing to capture the double-drum separation that makes the record work. Recently, Elemental Music released a definitive version that finally restores the music to its proper power. Discovered session tapes in the Warner Bros vault yielded previously undocumented material. The track Bye Bye Boogie Man, inexplicably dropped before the original release, has been restored. Outtakes, the non-LP B-side She's Ready To Be Free in both mono and stereo, the Brain Train's precursor recordings – all of it comes together in a package that reveals the full scope of what this band was attempting.
