Fleet Foxes at Manchester Apollo, September 11th.

Has Robin Pecknold been taking lessons from the Bob Dylan school of audience confrontation? It seemed so in the second half of the set as the front man gave increasingly mumbled introductions to songs and painstakingly retuned his guitar between numbers despite the whistles and shouts of an impatient minority of the audience.

Although the a capella sections in the early minutes of the concert seemed a little shaky in places, the band had begun to stamp its authority on the proceedings with powerful versions of Your Protector, Mykonos and Blue Ridge Mountains among others. Pecknold himself belts out the songs with real conviction and an individual sense of phrasing that slightly wrong footed anyone who tried to turn the infanticide ballad, Oliver James, into an unlikely singalong. In a live context Fleet Foxes demonstrate that they do more than make good records - one after another the strong melodies and thoughtful arrangements held the crowd spellbound.

Fleet Foxes had spent the day around Manchester and tellingly the mention of a used vinyl store near Piccadilly Station drew more cheers than a name check of locally-born musician Roy Harper. So in the second of his solo acoustic spots Pecknold took the hecklers to school. Unplugging his electro acoustic guitar and walking away from the microphone to the edge of the stage he sang a number without amplification to show any doubters at a packed Manchester Apollo that it was quite possible to hear the words, the music and the message if they were prepared to just shut up and listen.

Listen to Mykonos, He doesn't know why and White winter hymnal here