You can thank The Ark for bringing the Fleet Foxes’ excellent show to Hill Auditorium Thursday night. The room was just perfect for band’s atmospheric, harmony-driven sound. And even though Hill is huge, compared to The Ark, the group still managed to capture the intimacy one expects to find in the smaller rooms.

Adored by critics and fans, the Seattle-based group, fronted by guitarist/lead vocalist/songwriter Robin Pecknold, reference ‘60s-based folk-rock (think Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young), but mixes it up with elements of progressive rock, in turn producing music that sounds blazingly contemporary. The retro feel is augmented—but not necessarily improved on—by projections of changing shapes and patterns (some of which can be seen on their music videos) on a backdrop that reminded me of an early computer screensaver.

With spot-on harmonies, and songwriting that’s as moody and introspective as it is poetic, this is music for people whose musical tastes have advanced beyond what’s on the pop charts. It’s easy to get emotionally entangled in Fleet Foxes’ musical web.

Turning in a generous, nearly two-hour set that drew from several of their albums including the recent “Helplessness Blues,” band members switched effortlessly between electric guitar, slide guitar, violin, mandolin and double bass. The instrumental interplay was lovely to hear; my only complaint was that the vocals often sounded overly echoed.

The set began with “The Plains/Bitter Dancer,” and also included highlights such as “Winter White Hymnal,” “He Doesn’t Know Why” (minus the goats—if you’ve seen the video you know what I mean),” “Montezuma” and “The Shrine/An Argument, with its dischordant sax solo. The encore included the lovely new ballad “I Let You” and “Blue Ridge Mountains.”

It’s easy to hear why these guys are one of the most intriguing bands around, and from the chatter of the crowd as the show let out, a good time was had by all.

Indie rock band The Walkmen opened the show, offering a crisp retrospective of songs from their career.