In a world that often feels like it’s on fire, Minneapolis singer-songwriter John Deering arrives with a matchstick melody of his own — one that doesn’t burn down, but lights the way. His new single, Gotta Get Away, released on June 27th, 2025, is a raw, intimate, and thunderous escape route paved with heartache, resistance, and the primal instinct to protect what we love most.
Crafted in the dim corners of his basement, Gotta Get Away doesn’t feel like a polished studio gem. It wasn’t meant to be. Instead, it buzzes with an emotional voltage that only isolation and urgency can generate. It’s DIY in the best sense — vulnerable, jagged, and human. This isn’t a song that begs for attention; it demands it with a whisper and a gut punch.
John Deering isn’t new to emotional honesty. Hailing from Minneapolis — a city rich in musical storytelling and experimental spirits — he’s steeped in the same Midwestern grit and innovation that gave rise to legends like Prince, Hüsker Dü, and Soul Asylum. Fittingly, Deering received mentorship and production guidance from Ryan Smith of Soul Asylum for this track, anchoring it with a sense of heritage, while drummer Peter Anderson (Run Westy Run) brings a warlike pulse to the song’s heartbeat.
What sets Gotta Get Away apart is its origin story. Inspired by the Ukraine War and the quiet yet shattering images of families trying to shield each other from unthinkable chaos, the song centers on a father and daughter navigating the destruction — not with grand heroics, but with love, sacrifice, and impossible choices. It’s less political anthem and more emotional field recording. Through its lyrical depth and sonic rawness, the song echoes the human cost of conflict without ever preaching.
Deering’s voice in Gotta Get Away is not pristine. It cracks, pleads, shivers — like the floorboards of a home barely holding together. His experimental use of vocal layering and distortion adds to the unease, making listeners feel like they’re right inside the father’s mind as it frays under the pressure of escape. Every syllable feels lived-in, worn down by grief but not quite broken.
Musically, the track walks a fascinating line. There are echoes of Nine Inch Nails in its industrial textures, the percussive tension pulsing like incoming artillery. Yet there’s also a subtle sweetness woven through the noise — a hint of Billie Eilish’s hushed vulnerability, especially in the stripped-back bridge, where Deering nearly whispers over a skeletal piano progression. This juxtaposition of delicacy and defiance is where Gotta Get Away thrives.
Rather than reaching for a traditional chorus or an easy resolution, the song builds and bends, spiraling outward in controlled chaos. It feels like a sprint through fog, barefoot, holding your child, unsure of where you’ll land but moving anyway — because stopping isn’t an option. And when the song finally releases, it doesn’t end. It lets go — like the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
The magic of Gotta Get Away isn’t just in its narrative. It’s in the way it mirrors Deering’s own artistic journey. After years in the Minneapolis indie scene, collaborating quietly and honing his craft in the margins, this single marks a turning point — a willingness to step out with something deeply personal and sonically daring. Deering is done with subtle hints. This is his shout across the static.
There’s also something uniquely beautiful about the production choices — not just the basement origin or the lo-fi textures, but the intention behind them. This isn’t about lo-fi for lo-fi’s sake. It’s about preserving the urgency. Deering could’ve layered this track with gloss and grandiosity, but he didn’t. He kept it close to the skin — immediate, imperfect, and emotionally resonant.
With Gotta Get Away, John Deering doesn’t just tell a story — he lives one, invites us into it, and dares us to feel what too many try to ignore. It’s not a war song. It’s a love song in wartime. It’s the sound of holding someone close as the world collapses, of whispering promises that might not be kept, of running toward whatever hope is left.
In a music world too often distracted by the shallow and the shiny, Deering’s work stands out like a flare in the night sky — urgent, meaningful, and impossible to ignore. This is more than just a new single. It’s a declaration: art still matters, stories still move us, and music, when made from the marrow, still has the power to save something — if only for a moment.
