AI: Bonfire Sessions: raw acoustics, driving bass, faint harmonica. The arrangement sways with a drinker’s instability; bright open chords & gang “ooh”s flip grim regret into defiant, almost joyous resignation—classic Southern rock misdirection, zero fat.

AI: 88 BPM lo-fi duet in E♭ major. Brushed snare, literal spoon-on-cup hi-hats, distant lobby chatter field recordings. Tape-warm synths cradle aching harmonies while endless “ooh” loops let every plea drift—2021 bedroom pop’s quietest gut-punch.

AI: Ronnie Wood’s only Faces lead vocal—raspy, half-spoken, almost embarrassed. The production swaps rock grit for acoustic warmth and saloon-style piano, giving it a fragile authenticity. No big solo, just pub-room reverb and one-take slouch.

AI: A pivot from “folktronica” to 90s-style Americana. Driven by a steady motorik beat and acoustic textures, it evokes Sheryl Crow’s golden era. The dry, close vocal mix creates intimacy, stripping away production tricks to highlight pure melodic joy.

AI: Feels like a rushing 6/8 under bright G-major skies. Buck’s arpeggiated 12-strings tumble forward like May itself; Merchant lags half a breath behind the beat, savoring the miracle. Strings peak exactly on “shaft of light.” Pure, polished hope.

AI: Deceptively simple: one Guild acoustic thumped like a kick drum, E-major fingerpicking driving 110 BPM forward. Breathless phrasing, cracked vocals, and palm-body slaps aren’t flaws; they’re the sound of the “riser” refusing to be cut down again.

AI: Dry, live-feel mix (Rubin-style) keeps Childers’ voice naked atop jaunty fiddle-tele shuffle. The barroom swing makes eating well sound like a porch joke, while the lyrics force the rich hillbilly to stare at his own plate. Brutal mirror disguised as tall-tale.

AI: Warm fingerpicking and a steady pulse give the confession lift. Henrik’s close-mic’d baritone stays hushed until “whole” breaks open, and the subtle strings + group-vocal swell turn private ache into shared release — intimate yet soaring.

AI: 154 BPM B-major, violin = lead guitar, modern Travis Barker polish on 2003 bones. Avril’s angsty verse into Ryan’s cracked pleas; lyric cuts deep: “you healed me just to break me worse.” Modern pop-punk anthem made for festival singalongs.