Named after a character in an Edward Lear poem, Scroobius Pip (aka David Peter Meads) and his partner in crime, Dan Le Sac (aka Daniel Stephens), have always been the more literate of the Streets/Just Jack spoken word electronica crowd, waxing lyrically about art, religion, and politics on their debut album, Angles, while also satirizing pop culture on tracks like “Thou Shalt Not Kill,” a hilarious tirade against everything from Hollyoaks to the misspelling of the word “phoenix.” Follow-up The Logic of Chance continues this nation-addressing stance, tackling themes of knife crime (the video game bleeps of “Great Britain”) and domestic violence (the atmospheric clattering of “Five Minutes”), but Pip’s jarring tones too often resemble either a particularly irksome activist bellowing across a crowded high street (the dummies’ guide to politics of “Stake a Claim”) or a well-meaning but rather patronizing school teacher (the preachy singalong of “Get Better”). The Essex duo’s sophomore effort is much more palatable when it drops the “holier than thou” attitude and focuses on the mundaneness of life, such as the ’80s-tinged hip-hop funk of “Last Train Home,” an Amy Winehouse-referencing tale of the woes of suburban transport; personal issues, such as the surprisingly romantic but strangely named “Cauliflower,” an enchanting fusion of techno and avant-garde pop featuring the Björk-esque tones of Kid A; and back-to-basics dancefloor sensibilities, such as the dubstep-infused “The Beat” and the knob-twiddling drum‘n’bass opener, “Sick Tonight.” While The Logic of Chance’s attempts to instill some intelligence into proceedings is undoubtedly admirable, its sixth-form poetry approach is just a little too clumsy to take seriously. What was an intriguing curiosity on Angles has now become a rather abrasive novelty, but buried underneath the didactics, there is a half-decent pop record that suggests the pair could withstand dropping its unique selling point for album number three. – Jon O’Brien