Though their deftness for anchoring their explorations in instantaneous melodies or smatters of song remains—just check the fleecy acoustic guitar and fluttery synths on "Gudene Vet + Snutt" or the back-lounge polyester disco of "Note I Love You +100"—for the most part, the two are enjoying lengthy sonic playgrounding. As such, II feels more cohesive than either of its predecessors—its tracks are designed to meld into one lush, lengthy escape. With gleaming glockenspiel and a sinewy synth pattern, "Skal Vi Proeve Naa?" allows the two plenty of wandering space. They keep their drifting in check—staying within reaching distance of the track's rolling rhythmic base.
L&PT II is founded on a gamesome creative model that suits the duo's live brand of organic, open-toed disco music. But this emphasis on journey over destination sometimes leads to a bit of sonic wormholing, one that disconnects the listener from the storyteller. At almost seventy-five minutes, much like listening to a friend recount a voyage in painstaking detail, II's detours and side-roading are often more intriguing to those who experienced them than those left to listen afterward. Tracks unspool without regard to the odd shapeless patterns formed, resulting in compositions sometimes so multi-faceted and progressive that it's difficult to retrace the line to its cut-end.
Opener "Cisco" ambles along on a slow bass roll and hand drums before a sluggish guitar tries to push it into motion, while "For Ett Slikk Og Ingenting" follows starry-eyed piano and more of the duo's slow-fingered bass into a twinkling bit of cinematism that sometimes a little inert for all its energy. "Rett Paa" feels fussy and overly-mannered, more preen than proper strut. Calling L&PT on their "excess" may seem a bit anal for the simple pleasures of hearing the duo revel in space and play on II. But if "beardo" is still an acceptable tag for the two, it might be time for a little trim. Shit, at least shave back the neckbeard.