This is the intersection of crazy goths and the road. Take a tour with the band.
Evangeline and The Discarnates aren't always ready for the road but the road is even less prepared for this feral band of subcultural hybrids. Hop on their crazy caravan and experience the fantastic, magical and dysfunctional intrigues of players so strange, seductive and hilarious that you'll almost wish they'd crash on YOUR living room floor. Follow them through scandals, fits of passion, contract offers, death, infidelity, bipolar disorder, kidney donation and the sex industry. If you're just the right kind of "awake and aware", these talented misfits might snatch you up, hustle you into a smelly van and shuttle you off to freedom. Pre-apocalyptic survivalism has never sounded so delirious: this is no ordinary goth band and theirs is like no tour on earth.
Excerpt
The Discarnates were simply inevitable. It was their time. The western world had sloughed off cults and revolution and planting shrubs for peace, and was just about due for another dose of social consciousness—revved up, geared up and coated in black liquid latex. Political correctness had just moved in, but it was rounded on the edges.
Sure there were pseudo-goth shock rockers squatting major news and current events, but they lacked, well, soul. The Discarnates were genuine, their sweat, saline. They worked way too hard. Just watching them writhe in and out of hunger, ruin, and high calamity could get you pinched between a wince and a cringe.
They would have been there with or without Evangeline. Hers wasn't their first trip around the parking lot, just a crossroads in their chaos.
The band was spawned by Harmony and Vanillaglitter. He was the blood, and she, the guts. I think anyone would agree.
Vanillaglitter treats Backseat Betsey more like a mobile dollhouse than a van. It's a massive, skeletal estate whose wooden legs and abdomen dilate to permit entry to tribes upon tribes of nomadic dolls, though they are all one tribe in the end, coming and going like migrant birds by the season. B.B. is a mansion with nine beds that sleep twenty. The ceiling is just the sky condensed, crushed by years of heavy promises fallen. It's a delicate choreography, this show—musical chairs trying to care for harmony.
Professional Reviews
a wild, wacky, touching road trip
Serena Toxicat’s poetic voice and quirky sense of reality make Evangeline and the Drama Wheel a wild, sometimes wacky—often touching—road trip with the band. Enjoy!
—M. Isidora Forrest, author Isis Magic
a dark analysis of life behind the gothic veil
Serena Toxicat writes the way that David Lynch directs movies. You will read this on the edge of your cerebellum, and want to read it again, after you are done. Intelligent and well-crafted - Evangeline
and The Drama Wheel is a dark analysis of life behind the gothic veil.
—Rain Graves, 2-time Bram Stoker award winner
a work obviously concerned with Art
Evangeline is a phantasmagoric, stream of consciousness short novel with a liberal
dose of rock n roll, mysticism and cats....a work obviously concerned with Art.
— Patrick Ogle of Thanatos and Black Tape for a Blue Girl, Projekt Records
Sarah Thompson has ten days on Maui to find her lifetime after lifetime soulmate. She is certain he is waiting for her there on one of the last remaining land masses of Mu still above water.
I Made My Boy Out of Poetry is a powerful literary vision of rare scope, beauty and emotional intensity composed of stories and poems that flow in and out of each other like the most lucid and articulate of dreams. These are portraits and studies of
Sarah Thompson has ten days on Maui to find her lifetime after lifetime soulmate. She is certain he is waiting for her there on one of the last remaining land masses of Mu still above water.
