Lost 1972 R&B Soul Gem: I Almost OD'd On Edibles (Never Before Heard!)

Velvet Jones: The Queen of Soul, Sass, and Slightly Poor Life Choices
If you’ve never heard of Velvet Jones, then honey, where have you been? A smoky-voiced, leggy goddess of late-night R&B, Velvet is the kind of singer who can turn heartbreak into a Billboard hit and bad decisions into cult classics. Known for her sultry vocals, killer curves, and an attitude sharper than her cat-eye liner, she’s been setting stages (and occasionally relationships) on fire since the early 80s.
But while Velvet may be all glitz, glamour, and groove under the spotlight, behind the scenes, she’s just like the rest of us-making dumb choices, calling her best friend in a panic, and swearing she’ll never do that shit again… only to do it again. Enter her latest (and possibly most personally inspired) track: "I Almost OD’d on Edibles."
The (Accidental) Inspiration Behind the Song
Picture this: It’s a chill night off, Velvet’s just finished a long stretch of tour dates, and she’s looking for a little relaxation. No clubs, no men, just her silk robe, a glass of wine, and a tiny weed gummy to take the edge off. Tiny being the key word here. Except… well, nothing happens. Thirty minutes pass. Nothing. Another fifteen? Still nothing. So naturally, being the fearless woman that she is, she figures, “This ain't shit,” and pops a couple more.
Big. Mistake.
Suddenly, reality decides to shift into another dimension. The couch turns into a spaceship. The floor feels like a waterbed. Her heartbeat is now playing a live drum solo in her ears, and oh my God, did she just hear her goldfish whisper something?!
As the paranoia sets in, Velvet does what any rational person would do-she calls her best friend in a full-blown panic. "Bitch, I think I’m dyin’," she wheezes into the phone. Her friend, unfazed, simply replies, "Girl, you just high." Not exactly the emergency response she was hoping for. So she takes matters into her own hands, drafting what she is certain will be her final will and testament via text, just in case. (Her record collection? Going to her cousin. Her wigs? To be preserved in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.)
Somewhere between saying goodbye to her plants and contemplating calling 911 just to have them talk her down, inspiration strikes. In her dazed, slightly panicked state, Velvet grabs her notebook and starts scribbling out lyrics: "I almost OD’d on edibles, bitch I was too damn high…" A few hours (and an ungodly amount of snacks) later, she wakes up on the kitchen floor, one sock missing, her phone open to a half-written text that simply says, "Tell my mama I love her."
Turning Trauma Into a Bop
Velvet knew she had something special-a song that captured the ridiculous, anxiety-ridden, snack-filled journey of being way too high for your own damn good. So she took her near-death-by-gummy experience straight to the studio, laid down some funky bass, and gave the world an anthem for everyone who has ever underestimated an edible and lived to regret it.
So the next time you think, "Eh, one more won't hurt," just remember: Velvet Jones walked so you wouldn’t have to crawl. 🎶🔥😂
Secondhand Soul, Philadelphia’s finest (and only) purveyor of 1960s-style soul music from musicians who were, well… let’s just say they were “underappreciated” in their time. We specialize in hits that never hit, grooves that never got their groove on, and talent that was, quite frankly, talent-adjacent.
Our fictitious record label proudly resurrects the forgotten songs of Philly’s almost-legends-artists who didn’t quite have the magic of Motown, the grit of Stax, or the budget for studio time. Whether it’s Lester “Loose Strings” McCoy and his one-man band debacle or The Overtones (who were consistently under-pitched), we’ve got the tunes that almost made the cut.
Every song is dripping with that vintage soul vibe you love-horns that blare, harmonies that try, and lyrics that make you wonder, “Did they really rhyme ‘love’ with ‘glove’ again?”
So dust off your dancing shoes, lower your expectations just a smidge, and dive into the grooves of Secondhand Soul-where the music is recycled, but the feelings are real(ish). It’s soul with a second chance!