Punk Rock Flashback Friday: Happy Fingers Institute

Hey ho! We are traveling down to the Lone Star State and right smack into 1990s Houston, Texas. Here is where you would have found the Happy Fingers Institute, a solid fixture in the Gulf Coast experimental punk scene. It was here that clubs like The Axiom, The Island, and Commerce St. Artists Warehouse came alive with the creative fire fueled by bands like deadhorse, Spunk, and Dinosaur Salad.

During the Happy Fingers Institute’s heyday, they released several albums in rough form. Included in that resume of releases was the 7-inch Screw the Curfew. This quick jaunt of a record is a rebellious stance against the Houston City Council for imposing a midnight curfew on teens as a way of curbing crime.

Immediately diving into “Pasadena’s Burning” (referencing the petrochemical-heavy suburb of Houston, not the well-known California city), John Reen Davis sounds like a sober Gibby Haynes. It’s the best song of the three and remains a cult favorite among locals. The platter was a reaction and a middle finger to the Houston government; these kids were going to stand up for their freedom and the right to romp about during the witching hour. In the process, they churned out fascinating punk rock that was satirically wordy and rambunctiously noisy in a weird, Devo-esque, backcountry way. The title track rolls off the tongue like a King of the Hill episode.

In the middle is a bizarre art-rock piece featuring spoken word compiled by Davis, with lyrics pulled from Francis Scott Key. It is a reflection of what happens when lawyers get involved in the music industry. I’m not sure who rubbed the band the wrong way, but in this case, they clearly had a bone to pick.

It was not until 2014 that they released Chocolate Mussolini, a high-quality reimagining of their material from 1994 to 1996. It’s really the only thing you need from the band—but don’t expect to hear them focused on saying, “Screw the system.” That’s reserved for this niche moment.