"We have a lot of friends who are really into it, Sean says. "We're a normal family, but for some reason, we're not comfortable around normal people, the kind of sit-com family who attend PTA meetings, play on a bowling league and have pizza and movie nights. We're comfortable around freaks — the goth kids, the sideshow and fetish people."

The Mooers claim to be "normal," but then dislike what they believe "normal" represents. So what is it? 

"It's the performance," Angela says. "We don't play too often, and I'll get to the point when I'm tired and don't want to do my hair, makeup and have people stare at me. Then I get on stage and feel that support and love, and it's like a drug. That's what keeps me going. I have rheumatoid arthritis and I hurt all the time, but when I'm playing with my bandmates, the pain goes away. I'll pay for it later though."

So how does stage life sit with Sean's National Guard buds? 

"The people in my unit joke about it all the time, and it's weird me going on stage with eyeliner on," he says. "I'm careful to watch what I say and I'm careful what I point fingers at. If I just go off on the government, I could get in trouble. In a year and a half when I retire, I won't have to worry." 

Cybertrybe's preparing for the release of the forthcoming Picnic in the Apocalypse album, only their second full-length, with a June 16 show a benefit for the Warrior Cry Music Project which provides musical therapy to war veterans. 

The evening could well present all of the different sides to the Cybertrybe peeps. There's nothing more "normal" or indeed civilized than charity work, and the patriot in Sean will be proud to be helping this cause. But once they get on stage, flanked by their son, let the black-clad debauchery begin.

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