Having long since thrown off the label of being just a breeding ground for flannie-shirt-wearing rock bands, the past decade has seen some more interesting artists (Death Cab For Cutie, Fleet Foxes) emerging from that hotbed of great music that is Seattle.

One of the city’s rising stars is Jesy Fortino, the voice, hands, backbone and soul of folk act, Tiny Vipers. Fortino has spent the past few years quietly making a name for herself. Her 2007 debut album Hands Across the Void was well received by critics, and the musician has battled supposed stage fright to deliver live performances that have been praised for their honesty and beauty.

Tiny Vipers’ second album Life on Earth builds upon the stripped-back sound established in its predecessor. Filled with a folky fragility and quietness that won’t be unfamiliar to fans of early Cat Power, Joanna Newsom or Smog, Fortino’s music conjures images of desolate landscapes, sombre moments and loneliness. Recorded in her home, then sharpened by Andrew Hernandez in an analog studio, Life on Earth is authentically organic and minimalist at once.

The simplistic approach and bare instrumentation – most tracks feature just her vocals and guitar – highlight Fortino’s distinctive husky drawl and thoughtful melodies. Her voice quivers precisely in opening track Eyes Like Ours, but it truly shines in songs like Development and Tiger Mountain, where layers of soft harmonies make it stand out against the simple instrumentation.

Despite this subtle beauty it evokes, Life on Earth is not an easy listen. Clocking in at just over 60 minutes, the album is slow-burning and at times disengaging. But throughout the record, often hidden so deep that it takes a dedicated search to find, there are subtleties and nuances that break through the monotony. Fortino’s ability to create haunting and isolated spaces is evident in Slow Motion, where her voice and guitar is so stripped back that you can hear her fingers scrape across the strings. Time Takes provides a welcome change from the finger-picking riffs to more full-bodied chords, adding some depth to an album that is otherwise quite sparse, while Young Gold echoes like a monastical sermon, creating a haunting and textured song unlike any other on the album.

Although the second full-length release from Tiny Vipers radiates with subtle beauty, only the patient who are willing to explore it to its fullest will be able to appreciate this record. Its consistently slow pace can make this album a very dull experience. Life on Earth is surprisingly challenging – but for the dedicated, it’s ultimately rewarding.

Life On Earth is out now on Sub Pop Records.