The template is simple, and perhaps best heard on "Frank the Janitor": Funky house beats lay underneath cackles and eerie samples that seem to float effortlessly in the stereo field. It's as if the song is being torn into, rather than built. Nonetheless, its noticeably tight, crisp production is consistent on the whole record: The samples on The Paranormal are often short and sinister, resembling a stop-motion "Bucephalus Bouncing Ball." Take "Bones," which is what happens when Audion's "I Am the Car" is launched into hyperspace and turns into a peak time monster. Or "3rd Floor," where the duo manipulates the bass and tension like Appleblim or Shackleton. (It's no surprise that 'blim has declared "Just a Spoonful" a necessity in his house sets.)
"Skeleton Key," meanwhile, grows from the center—a centrifugal wonder that finds itself buzzing with an entire warehouse of machinery moving perfectly in sync by track's end. It's followed by "Deadend Motel," which sounds exactly as the title would imply: Its Haunted Mansion-meets-Hitchcock's Psycho vibe is only increased by the large, old door that creaks open as the song spirals into a chaotic drop.
The Paranormal has attracted support from many of the usual suspects, most notably Anja Schneider, Derek Plaslaiko and Philip Sherburne. But—for whatever reason—the duo also sent the album out to various members of the academic community. Tom Rhea, an author of Moog manuals and a faculty member at Berklee, reported back that the album was "magical, complex and interesting—and yet...altogether really catching and approachable." That this music is able to reach music fans outside of the closed loop of DJs and producers is telling: While something like the aforementioned Audion single was loved within the ardent techno community, you get the sense that The Paranormal has the potential to capture audiences outside of its own borders. Another artist like that? Screamin' Jay Hawkins, of course.