Remember when The Vaccines released What Did You Expect… and nearly every song abruptly came to a close after 2 or 3 minutes of aggressive guitar strumming, the silence leaving you in awkward shock because you expected more, and each song felt uncomfortably incomplete? Well, a quick skim over track times initially suggested I would feel the same towards Whispering Trees – but my concern was quickly relieved. Yes, they're short, but never incomplete, perfectly capturing each musical concept with remarkable simplicity and brevity.

Although a quick Google search initially suggested that Plantman is actually a green, 2D fictional super-villain who can control and animate plant life, Matt Randall, Adam Radmall and Bryan Styles are very much 3D, non-fictional, and, together, make up Plantman – the band. But perhaps they have taken some kind of inspiration from the other Plantman's comic book existence – minus the villainous qualities – as Whispering Trees radiates something natural and beatific; each track blossoms and flourishes in its own unique way to create a collective, melodic garden of musical delights. It evokes such a delicate romanticism that it seems perfectly feasible to think they wrote each song beside a forest stream in the moonlight with a pen made of lotus flowers, strumming and drumming on instruments bathed in love and sunlight. In short, it's 18th-century-poeticism-meets-arboreal-rock.

Opener 'Away with the Sun' sets the scenic, forest vibe with a simple, cyclical guitar strum humming beneath Randall's vocals that breathe an extraordinary fragility into the song – in fact, into every song. They're not quite monotone, but have certainly nestled into a comfortable range that perfectly complements the lyrical mutterings of nostalgia and love in all its forms. 'Spirit or Spell' creates a vocal variety by uniting his vocals with various harmonies that create an atmosphere of ghostly emotional vulnerability, while 'The Bitter Song' verges on being deemed a misleading misnomer. Melodically, it's one of the more upbeat songs on the record, although, as the title suggests, it lyrically laments over a problematic relationship as glockenspiels gleam and trembling guitars weave their way through. 'Stickman' declares that "everyone's a wild child," an idea effectively contrasted by the more gentle refrains, whereas 'You Wear the Crown' depicts a feeling of inadequacy and lost courage when faced with the unattainable.

The second half of the album doesn't imitate the first half, nor does it stray too far from what you've first heard. It's more guitar heavy, swopping stripped back acoustics for jauntier electrics that rhythmically speed up the refrains, and 'Crackles' is a perfectly positioned middle-track that nods towards these subtle changes in the latter half of the record. Despite incorporating hastier riffs, they nevertheless remain composed – owing to Randall's imperturbable singing style – while 'Lunaria' simply makes use of ethereal metaphors of silver threads and abstract memories. As the title suggests, it ebbs and flows tentatively forward, pulled by the droning drums – just as the tides are pulled by the moon. 'Widescreen Heart' returns to the acoustic set up as Randall muses, "I think I love you far too much," whereas 'Vini' is an expressive yet mild release of various sentiments. Closing the album is 'Melodica Forest', which ends things in a similar way to how it began –gracefully, pensively, and tenderly.

Although I have used the word 'simply' various times throughout this review, that's not to say Whispering Trees is in any way boring; it's more that Plantman have brought things back to basics, taking full advantage of their musicianship without insisting upon over-complicated melodies. Randall's perpetually soothing voice creates a comfortable, easy-listening experience, and though they may not have incorporated hundreds of instruments or experimented with a vast amount of genres, as the saying goes, it's quality, not quantity – yet they've somehow managed to walk a self-drawn line that connects the two. So while 15 tracks may at first seem too many, listening is neither a chore nor mundane; they add plenty of variety to and within their own sound. At the core of each song is a quintessentially indie beating heart, distinguished by its poetic insistence that even difficult things can be seen as something beautiful. Or perhaps, to return to an arboreal view, without dirt, no plant could ever grow.