This record’s title almost says it all as the Australian post-rock duo retreats to old motifs. But their lazy, Sunday-afternoon ballads are more alive this time around. Chris Townend is at his best when he barely enunciates, giving his lyrics an odd, ghostly presence. That effect colors the haze of his and Oren Ambarchi’s guitar chords and sleepwalking beats on “Mosquito,” and the rickety string noises on “Help Yerself.” However, Townend takes a sinister turn on “Smile,” where he sings “smile, little children” in a tone that would send most rug rats straight to the psychiatrist’s couch.