Expanded edition of the 2002 album originally released on Parasol Records and Plastic Bird UK.

"The Doleful Lions have been quietly hammering away in obscurity, mining all those paisley goldmines of pop perfection-from Phil Spector's classic girl pop records to Alex Chilton and Chris Bell-to create the sort of psych pop epiphanies that people like me live for. Theirs is a vintage sound written and performed with an obvious love for classic harmonic transcendence and old-school production values. Out Like a Lamb (Parasol) marks their fourth album to date, and by all counts it's the masterstroke they've been hinting at for years. Twelve lush floating pop songs comprised of acoustic/electric guitars, synth, drums, strings and effects that capture and reflect moments and scenes in time more vividly than my frazzled mind ever could. Where their last record was a sometimes-ramshackle journey through twisted mythical landscapes and failed relationships, Lamb feels almost holy and sacred. These are immaculately produced songs for people that haven't closed their eyes to all the beauty in the world just yet, written by a fellow that knows how to tell a good story and croon a sweet lullaby. Everything here, the harmonies, the arrangements, the vocals (male and female) are perfectly rendered from start to finish. I don't think I'll hear anything as heavenly as "1723" (with a perfect vocal from Aynsley Pirtle) for a very long time, though the heartachingly beautiful "Surfside Motel" comes close. Really, there's no point in singling out any actual tracks; it's a tear-streaked monster from start to finish. Fans of Chris Bell, Phil Spector, Syd Floyd, Who, Love, the Beach Boys, the Millennium, the Clean, Elephant 6 and all the beautiful things in life need this now."-Lee Jackson/The Broken Face

You might infer an awful lot about an album that features the lyric: "Don't you know it was the government/ Stopped the Beach Boys from releasing Smile" - and you would be right. Doleful Lions are unabashedly in love with the closing years of the 1960s. Out Like a Lamb, their fourth album, is a delicate, psychedelic masterpiece, encompassing moments of marvellously baroque whimsy ("Riders of the analogue phoenix/ And you won't stand with me in the colosseum") and beauty ("Wave to graveyards of swallows"). Fragile and heroically nostalgic, Out Like a Lamb feels like the work of friendly ghosts. - David Peschek The Guardian (4 out of 5 stars)

There are moments during Out Like a Lamb that make you wish that R.E.M. followed up Automatic For the People with an album like this one, but R.E.M. are long dead, and it’s time for someone else to pick up the slack. Out Like a Lamb isn’t perfect, but at least they tried to be perfect. Go listen to “Surfside Motel” dozen times and let yourself fall in love with the Doleful Lions." / Adrien Bergand ( POP MATTERS )

Doleful Lions
Out Like A Lamb
By Michael Edwards

Doleful Lions songwriter Jonathan Scott has a ridiculous number of good ideas in his head. Sometimes he can't quite turn those ideas into satisfyingly complete songs (as was the case on 2000's Song Cyclops, Volume One), but when those ideas come together, it is a thing of rare beauty, and that is the case with Out Like A Lamb. With an obvious love of the Beach Boys (with one song even borrowing a line from "Heroes And Villains") and sharing a similar philosophy to adventurous contemporaries like Mercury Rev, Doleful Lions have an ambitious manifesto where they mix articulate lyrics and gorgeous melodies into something very special. Acoustic guitars dominate many of the songs on Out Like A Lamb, with the strumming intertwined with layer after layer of delicate vocals and other instruments. To untrained ears, it might sound like just another indie-pop band, but there's something remarkable going on here. Out Like A Lamb is one of the most understated albums I've heard, at least since the last Doleful Lions record. It doesn't use any kind of sneaky tricks to get your attention, relying instead on both craftsmanship and subtlety, which are revealed after repeated listening. It just keeps getting better and better, and with enough time and patience, it might end up being one of those albums that becomes an essential part of your everyday listening. (Parasol)