Riverbend may not be all things to all people, but based on the eclectic series of shows I saw Thursday, it certainly can make a strong case for having something for everyone.
Last year, I determined there are two ways to approach spending a day at the 'Bend. You can either plan it out meticulously, or do like I do and follow the sound of a new band like your unraveling loose threads on a sweater.
When I arrived early Thursday, my first thread led me to the Bud Light Stage where I caught up with guitarist/singer Ted Caldwell of the band Mother of Pearl.
Caldwell, bassist Razor, drummer Dayrl Ray and lead guitarist/vocalist Steve Bates have been filling local bars with blues rock covers for years, and they'd worked up a set list of about 30 percent new material for this, their fourth Riverbend show.
"Look at the view," Caldwell said when I joined him on the stage, which is a lot higher than it looks and has a fine view of the river, even if it's got barge envy.
"Where we were playing before was in the Bud Light Stage under the tent," he said. "Look at the progression. It doesn't get any better."
Mother of Pearl's was slated to take the stage at 5 p.m., but by the time they ran through a full-bore sound check of Stevie Ray Vaughn's "Cold Shot," a loose group of onlookers had already gathering below them.
I didn't stick around too long after that (other loose threads were waiting), but by the time they kicked things off, a significant crowd had assembled there beneath a sky that had been brushed all but free of clouds from a flash thunderstorm earlier that afternoon.
Strutting being something I engage in only once during Riverbend, I then meandered to the Unum Stage to kill time while waiting for another local group, Sistren, to kick off. Apparently, I didn't just walk from one end of the festival to the other but also to polar opposites of the entertainment spectrum.
I doubt anyone has ever given it serious thought before, but if you were forced to describe an experience that was diametrically opposed to a blues rock cover band like Mother of Pearl, the answer would probably be something like the unscheduled performance by numerous troupes of students from Learn2Bellydance on Shallowford Road.
Riverbend is an excellent place to people watch, and it was fascinating to see the magnetic effect that bejeweled dancers with bare midriffs had on nearly every man who passed by. In the 45 minutes I spent watching them put on a hypnotic display of synchronized gyrations, I don't think I saw one who was able to keep their eyes forward, unless they were seated facing the stage.
I stopped to talk to Lindsay Galloway before she took the stage for a fantastic, unchoreographed routine featuring finger cymbals, and she said the main appeal of bellydancing to her is the sense of community it imparts.
"They welcome everyone," she said. "You could probably be in a wheelchair and still belly dance. A lot of it is just acceptance and love."
It's incredible how Riverbend brings together two such disparate groups, but the eclecticism didn't end there. After that, the Native American band redroot took the stage while the Nim Nims proved that even open-air theaters like the Tennessee Valley Credit Union Stage can still get frighteningly loud with the application of enough power to an amp.
Clearly, if you're willing to take a chance and follow a loose thread or six at the festival, your musical preconceptions can end up as tattered as a deconstructed sweater.