Guardian’s Laura Barton reviewed the new self-titled Fleet Foxes record — which is rapidly becoming one of my favorite records this year — and explains how the music became “entangled” in her environment.

It came to me one week in May, at the end of seven curious days in which I had both sailed on an airboat through the Atchafalaya Basin in Louisiana, and walked from Camber Sands to Rye alone at three o’clock in the morning. I was listening to Fleet Foxes almost constantly that week, and the music became entangled with the strange landscapes before me: swamp water, cypress trees, hanging moss, alligators, osprey, night heron; it wrapped itself up with a Sussex countryside turned fabled land beneath the night sky, verges dewing, trees in heavy blossom, the stream and, far beyond, the sea, still and silvery under the moonlight.

I love thinking about how the contexts people hear music affects the way the music is received.