Port O'Brien's 2007 debut helped established the nomadic collective in the upper tier of the wind-swept, Pacific Northwest folk scene. Like Fleet Foxes or Blitzen Trapper, the band's penchant for dreamy, reverb-heavy forays into the wilds of the rainy Northern California coastlines elicited numerous comparisons to indie folk demigods like Will Oldham and Jason Molina, and their blue collar day jobs (crabbers, bakers, and canners) brought an authenticity to the songs that most landlocked bands looking for the ocean in a cornfield with a conch shell lack. 2009's Threadbare follows in its predecessor's wet footsteps, and the death of a bandmember's sibling casts a long shadow over the project that sadly meshes beautifully with the outfit's sparsely delivered, yet emotionally rich sound. Bookended by a pair of oddly infectious laments called "High Without the Hope 3" and "High Without the Hope 72," Threadbare is most compelling when it's operating at half speed. Stand-out cuts like the aforementioned "High Without Hope 3," "Next Season," and the brooding title cut feel distinctly of the moment, and while the more upbeat tracks on Threadbare are competent and downright catchy, they're ultimately engulfed by the fog from which they were born. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
Port O'Brien whip up a hazy, beautiful narcosis on The Wind and the Swell. This album is actually a compilation of sorts, pulling together the best tracks from the self-released efforts of Port O'Brien, the brainchild of northern Californian and sometimes Alaskan fisherman/boat hand Van Pierszalowski (though the project has evolved into an actual band). This collection is clear evidence that Pierszalowski's idiosyncratic alt-rock/weirdo folk deserves the same kind of attention paid to Will Oldham (Palace), Jason Molina (Songs: Ohia), or even M. Ward, who named Port O'Brien his favorite new band the same year this album came out (2007). The loose and spastic gang-singing of "I Woke Up Today," which is pitted against only acoustic guitar and inconsistent percussion, yields up a surprising richness and weirdness that is evocative of Broken Social Scene's more orchestrated, technologically tweaked efforts. The pretty, loose acoustic pop of "My Eyes Won't Shut" melds Pavement-like oddball prettiness with the warped, edgy sensibilities of Neil Young circa On the Beach, while "Five and Dime" proves that there are some real solid, straightforward folk writing chops beneath all of the strangeness. This is a rich and original collection of catchy and brainy folk-pop. ~ Erik Hage, All Music Guide