B-Side Guys

There’s a strange alchemy at work when a jazz bassist decides to flee—both literally and figuratively. John Gray’s aptly titled “Let’s Get the Fuck Out of Here” arrives like a getaway car idling outside a bank heist, its instrumental nature leaving just enough narrative space for listeners to project their own escape fantasies.

Gray, a NYC jazz scene fixture who recently transplanted to Portland, channels the dust-kicked freedom of 1970s desert highways with remarkable precision. The track pulses with a rhythmic urgency that feels simultaneously meticulous and untethered—much like the controlled chaos of Tarantino’s “Death Proof,” which Gray cites as direct inspiration. The composition balances nu jazz complexity with accessible jazztronica hooks, creating tension between disciplined musicianship and raw emotional release.

What’s particularly striking is how Gray manipulates analog warmth in a digital landscape. Having cut his teeth performing alongside jazz legend James Moody and Broadway vocalist Vivian Reed, Gray’s pandemic-era pivot to electronic production maintains a crucial human element. Bass lines feel finger-worn rather than programmed, and percussion breathes with imperfect life, channeling the spirit of funk pioneers The Meters while nodding to contemporary IDM sensibilities.

This duality reflects Gray’s stated mission to find “a happy medium” between vintage organic sounds and forward-thinking electronic textures. The result is music that feels somehow familiar yet unplaceable—like a half-remembered dream of escape. Gray’s background scoring indie films and commercials surfaces in the cinematic quality of his arrangements, which evoke specific visual memories without requiring them.

What’s most refreshing about “Let’s Get the Fuck Out of Here” is its resistance to overpolishing. In an era where digital perfection often sterilizes emotion, Gray deliberately preserves the grit and character of analog processes. This textural decision aligns perfectly with the track’s escapist themes—it’s music designed for movement, for transition, for leaving something behind.

Whether you’re planning a cross-country relocation (as Gray recently did) or simply need a four-minute mental vacation, this instrumental offers a well-crafted vehicle for departure. Its narrative ambiguity becomes its greatest strength, allowing listeners to populate the musical landscape with personal significance while Gray handles the driving.