Album Notes

The Band:

Man Plus is the the brainchild of singer/songwriter, Jared Sprinkle, and guitarist/electronic artist, Kyle Smith. Man Plus was made whole with the addition of the stunning Amanda Lynn on bass and recent Montana expat Ben Findley on drums. Rooted in traditional melody and lyric centered songwriting Man Plus finds their inspiration in the pop conventions of the 60s, the best heartbreaking lo-fi of the 90s, with an emphasis on noise; Man Plus serves as an outlet for their sticky-sweet electro-punk confections.

The members of Man Plus possess superhuman melodic gifts, an unmatched command of the rock vocabulary and an explosive dynamic which makes for a senses-stunning live show. From house parties to festivals and everything in between Man Plus has collected, some may say brainwashed, a committed cult following of devoted fans. In addition to wowing fans up and down the coast they have also garnered attention from a number of local media sources.

The Spectator described Man Plus as: " the gender-confused, loveless bastard child of the Breeders and DePeche Mode. This band made my pants feel tight."

Seattle's own sparkly indie-pop press, the Three Imaginary Girls showcased them on KEXPs Audioasis shortly after their first release, "you smell pretty when you stop yelling" in September 2005. The lovely ladies described Man Plus' music as "super cool! ... polished, like piping hot, gooey electronic pop gems with wacky lower-cased titles." The album eventually went on to be voted one of the top 100 Northwest Releases of 2005 in the their annual listeners poll.

KEXP DJ, Abe Beeson, had this to say when he reviewed the album in early 2006, "Local band mixes precious keyboard pop with a few noisy punk bits... This is a promising, but raw, debut."

By combining volatile beats with shifting keyboards and fuzzy vocals the band manages to tie it all together, creating moody, tightly wound pop songs. Man Plus is Seattles answer to electro-clash, with an emphasis on the clash, theirs is music for the sexy, sad and strange.


The Music:

We Had No Sex marks the debut E.P. from Seattle's finest purveyors of pretty, clever, and terribly depressing music.

The songs on We Had No Sex aim to be as resonant in their doleful simplicity as any feature-length post-modern melodrama. Each Man Plus song manages to take your most closely held memories, secrets and fears and guides you further and further back with endless, heartbreaking choruses.

Man Plus is all about embracing the failure in everyday life and experiment in distorted, drunken chaos, loud guitars, menacing bass, and unstoppable rhythms. These depressed and depressing drawing room dirges wring regret from the coldest and oldest of hearts, but with an ass-shaking glory that is undeniable.

The irony-free album turns up the guitars and turns down the keyboards. Where once Man Plus would throw an odd piano ballad into the mix to offer a respite from the barrage of loud bile-filled songs, no such release is found on We Had No Sex. The album marches on regardless of how deep it goes, or how far it goes. It runs through 1960's styled pop, hardcore, and dance, all husky, whispered secrets and screaming accusations.

We Had No Sex is deceptively potent; in less than twenty minutes it shows what happens when gender, violence, love and alcohol become interchangeable. We Had No Sex is all about getting a little bit older and a little bit closer to death. It is the aural equivalent of realizing that you can no longer go playing in those fields, resolved, somewhat remorseful and shooting back an unwavering, crushing gaze.