July 23, 2003
San Francisco Bay Guardian
Pathless Land(Orange Sun)
Kimberly Chun

Play Pathless Land loud. Troll are so quiet and unassuming that their charm and ingenuity were almost lost on me the first time around, when I made the mistake of lowering the volume of the San Francisco five-piece's new EP, the follow-up to their much praised album Que son los Trolls y en que nos Ayudan? At the right levels, "Mexicana" whirls into view with sensual, swirling psych-guitar, levitating theremin, intertwined male-female vocals in Spanish, and a never quite out of hand beat. Are you gonna be at the Tijuana love-in, breaking on through to the other side of Os Mutantes and the Standells? Are vocalist-guitarist John Koch and singer-keyboardist Lotte Svennigsen cooing sweet little nothings in Danish – or is it Japanese? – on that tempestuous groove thing called "Western"? Whether they're dreaming up quasi-krautrock, lethargic space jams, or minimalist, droning serenades for the streets of Copenhagen, Kyoto, or Cabo, the experimentally minded internationalists of Troll manage to unite all of the above in their deep violet shadow – the kind of majestic, inky moodiness that a shroom-munching David Lynch would appreciate.