Live a Little Love a Lot from NME
Things, as you may have noticed, have changed round these parts in the time Moose have been away... Not that they seem to care, of course. Where Britpop '96 is relentlessly image conscious, ambitious, brash and , well British, these most  unfairly labelled of shoegazers are content to stay on a strikingly alternative path.
    And that means dreamy country twangs, plush Jimmy Webb strings, whinnying Love trumpets and a fairly unique aesthetic that places them roughly between the perfectly laid-back part of the American West Coast and somewhere romantic and sunny in the south of Francs. Yes! They're a bit floaty and sensitive! Yes! Old Liz Cocteau does her gossamer warbly thing in the background! Yes! They don't give a Union Jack-wrapped shite about the Small Faces.
    Oh yes, we're talking marvelously, unfashionably lovely stuff here. Live a Little Love a Lot follows a similarly hazy trajectory to Moose's previous two albums. Occasionally - with that parping trumpet well to the fore - it recalls their veteran shoey mates, The Boo Radleys, if someone had confiscated Martin Carr's Beatles records in infancy. Most of the time, especially on First Balloon to Nice and Regulo 7, it sounds as if hatched in a warm, mellow reverie - but, rare for a record that radiates such utter contentment, without either: a) being a hideously complacent indulgence; or b) feeling the need to shout about it.
    Moose refine their own style and a shitload of mightily tasteful old records to a point of complete, dazed effortlessness. And if anyone this year makes a better record to wake up to on a Sunday morning, I'll eat my copy of Glen Campbell's Greatest Hits.
---JOHN MULVEY, NME, 27 January, 1996, page 41

Live a Little Love a Lot from the Big Takeover
This CD breaks one's heart a little ... warm, rich, graceful, and vaguely somber tone of heartfelt elegance ... this lovely, lustrous, luxurious CD will largely go unheard by most fans in Moose's native britain, as well as here ... by far their best, finest conceived, and most consistent album.
    The opening Play God, with exquisite help on background backing vocals form Liz Frazier, is a mini masterpiece jewel of gliding, glistening electricity, with Russell Yates, honey-smooth vocal tugging smartly, brightly and nicely ... Little bits of strings and horns intelligently employed compliment the solid , strong songs written by Yates and Kevin McKillop. They don't sound like anyone else's hooks, except for minor touches of Lee Hazelwood, Nancy Sinatra's old writer. Between the delicious forward-smack of Rubdown, with it's insistent beat and bottom dropping, deceptive chord changes out of the minor jazz chords, and the dazzling chamber knell of the soaring piano in Eve in a Dream - and don't miss this song's That Joke isn't Funny Anymore Smiths bass line by touring Jesus and Mary Chain guy Lincoln Fong.
    Live a Little... is that modern rarity, a quieting CD that isn't dull, slow, wimpy, or even short; for all it's pastoral touches, it's an "up" record, super-invigorating, full of brilliantly effective, simple subtle sensations and superb tunes. Best of all, damned if there's a better produced record this year to date, courtesy of Giles Hall. As snug as a blanket fresh out of the dryer, Live a Little is also one of those unique CDs you fall in love with on first play, it's textures envelope you so quickly. A superb achievement. Now, will anyone ever hear it??? May you be one who does.
---JACK RABID, the Big Takeover

Live a Little Love a Lot in german | lesinrocks.com

Thanks to T.T. for copies of these reviews, and to Jack Rabid/the Big Takeover for permission to reprint.