After the success of our first single “Attempt,” Induction was ready to press on with our next release. However, now the band were all living in different places. I now was in Pittsburgh, Sami was in Berkeley, and Wes kept his roots in Houston. How were we to continue?

The money from our gigs and selling tapes was mostly spent on the first record, and we didn’t have the finances to press a full 12” again. At the same time, the band was interested in the 7” single scene from other genres, like punk. We had always adopted the DIY attitude of punk, and the smaller format certainly was cheaper. While DJs didn’t like it as much (it’s harder to spin a 7” than a 12”), we decided to use the format to our advantage. We were able to press on clear vinyl and print a simple black & white foldover jacket, and everything was stuffed into a 7” polyvinyl sleeve.

The two songs on the record represented unfortunately the end of the band, since with the three individual lives separating geographically, we simply wouldn’t be able to record together anymore. Nowadays of course that’s how lots of commercial music is made, because you can collaborate easily and cheaply over the internet. In 1995, the Internet was a much different place, and you could barely transfer still images in half an hour, let alone mutitrack audio at CD quality.

The title track “Halodust” was the first Induction track recorded in Pittsburgh, as I had most of the gear in my small bedroom. I was going to raves in the east coast and midwest, and I started loving deep house from Chicago in addition to the uptempo breakbeats and techno that was already an Induction mainstay. Our equipment differed from what most artists in Detroit and Chicago were using, mainly because by that time the standard Roland TR-909, TR-808, and TB-303 units were out of reach price-wise. Therefore, Halodust lands somewhere between piano house and breaks and sounds different than a lot of the classic house and techno records.

The B-side “106” was a classic Induction production written and produced by the 3 members in my family home living room. In fact, most of the Induction recordings were made in my mom’s garage or living room. She let us take over the entirety of those spaces with our equipment for a few weeks at a time. Named after the Roland Juno-106 synthesizer that performs the lead line, this track was a slower version of our first record’s acid breakbeat sound. I can still remember Wes modulating the filter slider by hand as our army of electronic music automata played away, conducted by his Atari 1040ST computer.

Once the songs were together and we had the record press pumping, it was time to reach out to distributors. That was my job, and this is where my complete lack of knowledge about the business came around to bite us this time. I reached out to good ol’ Watts Music as well as a couple other distributors, one of which was called Nemesis. Why "Nemesis?" All I could gather was they broke off from Watts and started their own thing, and now that I think about it choosing "Nemesis" as your venture's name verges on the spiteful.

I forget who I talked to over at Nemesis, but he was very enthusiastic about the single. He wanted to really put their resources behind it, which sounded great to me. He kept saying the word “exclusive,” and I had no idea what it meant. So sure, we agreed for an exclusive release (whatever that meant), and I went along my merry way offering the record to other distributors. That, my friends, was one mistake I learned from the hard way.

Of course, “exclusives” I now know means that no one else would have the product besides the single party who enjoys its exclusive agreement with the supplier. I just thought it was a marketing term. So of course, eventually my contact at Nemesis called me up with an anger only New York businesspeople have, vituperating how I went behind his back. He’s right, only I didn’t know and didn’t intend any harm. The damage was done though, and Nemesis was out. Watts was in, but only for a couple hundred copies.

In the end this single didn’t perform well, and I can attribute several reasons for that. First, our target demographic was DJs who spin 12” records, and they hardly look at 7”s. The smaller format of the record means it’s harder to manipulate and cue. Plus, with the clear vinyl it was hard to see where to place the needle. Second, we had built some success on a more uptempo sound, and this record was completely different. One of the reviews we got said as much, but the change left our audience confused. Third, my mistakes on the business side missed the chance of partnering with someone enthusiastic who would help us market the record.

Even though it was a disappointment, I still love the songs. When I listen to them, they evoke a specific time and place. We hadn’t gotten to more elaborate production techniques yet, so our mixes were harsh and raw. In 1995. the tech in our mid-80s samplers was old and grungy, which gives this record a definite character.

This single marked the end of Induction, though we didn’t know it at the time.

--Tom Butcher

Equipment used on this record: E-Mu Emulator II, Baldwin I/K/E, Roland Juno-60, Roland Juno-106, Sequential Pro-One, Korg Wavestation SR, Ensonic DP/4, DOD Supra Distortion, Roland TR-727, Ensoniq ESQ-1, Mackie CR-1604


Addendum! Yes, I know this is long already. After posting this, Wes asked me if I had the original slower version of Halodust, and I had completely forgotten about it. The original version was pretty slow tempo-wise and clocked in at nearly 8 minutes. We decided to re-record it with a snappier tempo, and that is what went on the record. We included the original recording here for fun!