Circus Maximus
It's 1986. Nick Currie has borrowed the name Momus from an unimportant Greek god banished from Mount Olympus for criticising Zeus. (The bull should have horns on its shoulders, Momus said. And humans should have been created with a little window in their chests, so the gods could see what they were thinking. Oh, and Aphrodite, goddess of love, makes too much noise with her feet. Though her body isn't bad).

Momus (dressed in the barely-adequate flesh of a young Scottish graduate) sits in a rented room in Streatham, south London, strumming an acoustic guitar. He decides to rewrite the Bible. Defying his fundamentalist ancestors, he paints the lives of Old Testament saints like Lot and John The Baptist in nine shades of hell-fire red.

They emerge self-interested, lascivious and ambitious.

It is, after all, the 1980s.

Lyrics.
Reviews.
Interviews.

Go on to the next album, The Poison Boyfriend (1987)

Go back to the last album, The Man On Your Street (1982)
Index