Editor’s Note: Remy Nova is the musical project of Jeremy Little, a Nashville-based artist who creates music that has been described as “alternative R&B with a psychedelic edge.” In addition to the band, Little has over 10,000 music placements in film and TV, including Queer Eye, Fringe, Castle Rock, Shameless, and The Voice.
Last month, Remy Nova shared its latest song, “Oh Deed (On Gummy Weed)”, a song full of psychedelic tinged synths, soulful and hook-drenched melody, and existential humor. According to a press release, “Jeremy brings his cinematic storytelling to this surreal and sonically rich track—an alternative R&B voyage that captures the moment a cannabis gummy goes from fun to ‘oh no.'” The track was mastered by two-time Grammy-winner Hans Dekline (U2, Steve Aoki).
“I want listeners to feel like they’re flying through the ether, untethered by physical laws,” says Remy via press release. “Is that too much to ask?”
Today, SWT is excited to share an exclusive essay from Little, where he describes his unfortunate mishap with gummy weed.
In hindsight, I should have known that something would go wrong. That’s obvious now. I should have known you don’t take advice from the really polite, unshaven hipster at the dispensary who—if I had to guess—was probably two-thirds of the way through a business degree (paid for with Dad’s money) when he dropped out after an especially enlightening ayahuasca trip. Not that I have a problem with that. But like I said, I should have known better.
That day started like a lot of my days at the time: on a plane from Nashville to Los Angeles. I was headed to the City of Angels for a week of recording sessions. I’m a singer, and I was going there to sing some commercial jingles.
On the plane, there was a guitar player I absolutely worshipped when I was younger. As it turns out, I knew him a little. We’d done a tour together a few years prior. We said our hellos, and he invited me to his rehearsal that night, asking if I would sit in with the band and sing. I, of course, was thrilled—but the prospect of entering a room full of music legends and winging it had my nerves on edge.
I had recently given up Xanax, which had been prescribed to treat my PTSD, but the drug was too heavy-handed for my taste. In its place, I’d been experimenting with THC edibles that I’d gotten from someone in Nashville. So, my first order of business after landing was to find a dispensary.
I had never bought edibles legally before, and as a result, I didn’t know exactly what my tolerance was. This is what led to my blunder. I asked for gummies to help me relax, and the guy handed me a pack of ten. I asked about their potency, and he, in turn, asked whether I had experience with edibles. I said I had, and he gave me the reply that would seal my fate:
“An experienced user could take up to five and still be okay.”
“Fair enough,” I thought. I bought a few packs, popped one in my mouth, and hopped in an Uber to Hollywood. I met the band for dinner before rehearsal, impatiently waiting for the gummy to kick in.
I’m an anxious person on a good day, but today was worse. Hours went by, and I still hadn’t felt a thing. Remembering what the kindly hipster had told me, I decided I must have a high tolerance and took another… and then another.
When we got to the rehearsal studio, I sat down—and that’s when it hit me like a meteor to the skull. I immediately knew I had made a big mistake. I also knew I had to get out of there fast, before it got any worse. I made some excuse about not feeling well and called an Uber.
Getting into the correct car while in the throes of a full-on psychedelic crisis is harder than you might think. After a few failed attempts, I found the right car and got in. That was a relief—but my troubles weren’t over yet.
My friend Celia had generously lent me her apartment while she was out of town. The problem was, I had never been there before, and I didn’t know what it looked like. So, when my long-suffering Uber driver dropped me off, I had no idea where I was.
Full of self-doubt, I repeatedly checked the number on the building against the info in the text she had sent me. After what felt like hours, I concluded that yes, my driver had in fact dropped me at the correct place.
The next trial in my quest was punching in the correct gate code to get into the building—again, harder than you’d think—but I managed it. Then I had to find the right apartment number. This was when I really got nervous; I didn’t want to accidentally go into the wrong unit.
I knew I must have looked slightly deranged to any casual observer. By some miracle, I finally found the right door and got inside. I spent the night in bed, regretting my recent life choices.
The next morning, I made it to my vocal session, but the effects still hadn’t completely worn off. I sang my part and—thankfully—got a good take on the first try.
I asked the engineer if he liked edibles. He said yes. I walked into the control room, dumped my stash on his desk, and said, “Merry Christmas.”
Jeremy Little
Contributor
Jeremy Little is a Nashville-based artist. His band Remy Nova creates a sound that's been described as "alternative R&B with a psychedelic edge." In addition to the band, Little has over 10,000 music placements in film and TV, including Queer Eye, Fringe, Castle Rock, Shameless, and The Voice.
