If you’ve been anywhere near a television since 2005 you’ll probably already be familiar with the Boy Least Likely To, whether you know it or not. Be Gentle With Me, from their debut album The Best Party Ever (the titles alone should tell you what kind of band you’re dealing with here) has been used to soundtrack both furniture and finance, and the album even managed to be included in Pitchfork and Rough Trade’s top albums list for the year of release. A US release followed a year later, that saw Rolling Stone describe them as sounding like “what would happen if all your childhood stuffed animals got together and started a band”. It’s not an unfair accusation either, and certainly not malicious. The Boy Least Likely To are Pete Jobbs and Jof Owen, two musicians who seem unable to grow up, and in all likelihood probably still play with their childhood stuffed animals in their spare time.

After all the success of their debut album, the follow-up has been a while coming. Introductory single Every Goliath Has Its David is in a similar vein to the playfulness of Be Gentle With Me, but slightly lacking the charm of their smash hit. It’s something that can be levelled at the entire album – their half-hearted aim at remaining as twee as the debut is quite apparent. For all intents and purposes though, this is an album that winds up being stronger than the debut, showing a much darker side to childhood innocence shown first time round.

That’s not to say that they’ve lost the ability to have fun though. Whiskers could have been lifted straight off The Best Party Ever, with the line “he rubs his paws together, and it begins to snow” seeming to come straight out of a children’s story book, complete with a banjo rhythm. It’s songs such as When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonade that show how far they’ve come since their debut though – it’s a much fuller song, packed with insanely catchy hooks that provoke a fear of embarrassment in case anyone sees what a good time you’re having.

The darker side to the album comes in the form of A Balloon On A Broken String, which begins jauntily enough with the line “I’m not a boy / I’m a big fat balloon flapping in the wind / floating over the tree tops, on a broken string / I’ve never been tied down”, however following a doo-wop chorus line and muted guitars ventures into “I can feel myself deflating all the time”. This child-like way of approaching subjects is where Owen shines, revealing more about his emotional state of mind than some of the best songwriters have managed with a much wider vocabulary. “I know I look shiny and bouncy but I’m all empty inside and I worry that if I was to burst suddenly then nobody would even notice me” is the breathless parting refrain, but it’s set alongside such up-tempo madness that you don’t even notice.

Marching drums and xylophone distract you from the subject matter throughout the album’s 13 tracks, with a full brass band entering like a Wallace And Gromit soundtrack on The Boy With Two Hearts – “I am the boy with two hearts / and there is only so far / I can be stretched before / I come apart” – which again continues Jof’s lyrical themes of isolation and a worry that he’s not quite fitting in: “I know I’m not much fun to be with / but you love me all the same / and someday hopefully I can just go back to being myself again”. It makes for painful listening, especially as it’s one of the only slower tracks on the record, and brass bands have a habit of making even the happiest of songs seem downbeat.

The finale is typically strong though, bouncing along through I Keep Myself To Myself – “the world is made up of boxes that I don’t fit in” – a tail of being afraid of love but wanting to be loved. It’s when the lyrics are kept as simple as this, with a chorus of “I want a cookie, and I need a hug”, that they’re most effective. Again, there’s more twee madness as Jof skips along hand-in-hand with his innermost thoughs and fears, and wears his heart “uncomfortably on my sleeve”.

The Law Of The Playground may, at first listen, appear to be lacking the melodies of The Best Party Ever, but bear with it. After a while, when the lyrics hit home, it’s an album deeper and more meaningful than the throw-away nature of the first. Richer, more vibrant, and a more rewarding listen, it shows why it always pays to keep in touch with your inner child.