Brisbane had a band stalking its shadowy alleyways in the '90s that were incredibly unique – although not many people realised. The twee punk of all-girl Clag is something that is nigh on impossible to envision – it truly has to be heard to be believed. And luckily for us, Chapter Music has reissued Pasted Youth, a 23-track dissection of the band's messy oeuvre.
Much of what on is display is jangly, dissonant guitar, basic Casio warblings, and atonal vocals from Bek Moore singing about new bikes (Bike), chips and gravy (Chips & Gravy), goldfish parties (Goldfish) and shopping mall security guards (Security Man). There's no sense of malice or anger either, which for a punk band in the early-'90s was almost unheard of. Sure, there is the thrash and bombast of the raw live closer Shithouse, and the dedication of Scum Manor to Greg “because he's fucking scum”, but it's more a mix of the silly swing of ska legends The Specials or Bad Manners and the inane weirdness of Deerhoof.
Live they would often face away from the audience with masks taped to the backs of their heads, or in hospital gowns with Mr Men toys strewn everywhere, weird idiosyncrasies that didn't sit well with the grunge stalwarts of the time. Yet the true genius of Pasted Youth isn't to highlight how stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb these kids were, but how energetic, fucked up and altogether fun Clag still are today. Members went on to play in other, bigger bands in Melbourne (Beaches, Panel Of Judges, Minimum Chips), yet their churlish endeavours as captured on Pasted Youth act as a timely reminder of their eccentric, infected brilliance.
