Robin Pecknold conquered Glastonbury in England recently but battled at the State in Minneapolis Sunday :: Associated Press

Did the scream-at-the-stage yahoos ruin or save the Fleet Foxes soldout concert Sunday at the State Theatre?

Judging by comments from Fleet Foxes lead singer Robin Pecknold and drummer Joshua Tillman, the shout-outs were rude and inappropriate. During his solo encore, Pecknold admonished that next time a concertgoer has a complaint about the sound mix, give the "feedback" by waving your arms at the dude at the mixing console in the back of the room.

However, the concertgoer who, after four songs or so, complained loudly about the sound was absolutely right. And he was right to shout at the stage, though he could have made his point without the expletives. The sound mix was destroying the beauty and splendor that is the Fleet Foxes. In short, the band was too loud and the vocals too soft.

The message was delivered, the sound was soon corrected and the enjoyment continued for everyone but definitely not Pecknold. Fresh from the raucous Pitchfork Media Festival in Chicago, the indie-rock hero seemed preoccupied or annoyed for the rest of the night. Frankly, he deserves part of the blame. He hit the stage talking, not performing.

He muttered something about the affinity between the Pacific Northwest (where Fleet Foxes are from) and the Upper Midwest, citing "some kind of Scandanavian underground railroad." So then, with a lull in the one-sided conversation, a fan asked "Do you have an aunt here?" Another concertgoer responded: "You have a cousin." Said Pecknold: "There she is." Perhaps he should not have engaged the fans from the get-go.

Moreover, he spent too much time between songs tuning his acoustic guitar after his roadie had presumably tuned it for him. That left pregnant pauses opening the door for shouts like a woman who announced to Pecknold:"I want to have your babies." Next time, sweetheart, please send him a tweet.

After playing to packed standing crowds at the Cedar Cultural Center and First Avenue, the Seattle sextet was performing to a Twin Cities sit-down crowd in a stately theater. Once the sound engineer fixed the balance, the baroque hippie pop of these bearded boys was often breathtaking.

The instrumental combinations (bowed upright bass and Hoffner electric bass at the same time, mandolin, flute, bowed electric guitar, etc.) were as fascinating as the three-part vocal harmonies (heavy on the reverb and sounding like more than three voices). Pecknold's voice suggested both early Brian Wilson and middle-period Neil Young. The luscious harmonies owed much to Crosby, Stills & Nash (without Young) and Simon & Garfunkel.

The harmony-filled highlights of the 95-minute set included the final encore "Helplessness Blues," the gorgeous "White Winter Hymnal" (with its Beach Boys undercurrent), the rockin' hootenanny-meets-chamber pop "Ragged Wood," and the long, haunting and shape-shifting "The Shrine/An Argument," which felt like Fleet Foxes' "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes."

In a moment when high-voiced drummer Tillman was getting high on the harmonies and music, he wondered out loud to the fans what it would be like "high-fiving everyone of you."

But it was a night of highs and lows — both musically and verbally.

Opening was Alela Diane & the Wild Divine (featuring her dad on guitar). Her homey Americana was appealing but, at 45 minutes, she probably overstayed her welcome by two or three songs.