Ross’s Landing may be back to its pristine, nonfestival state, but after nine days of being in the thick of Riverbend, the experience is still very much on my mind.
Pull out your hankies, fellow 'benders, because this will be my final blog.
Well folks, the end, as they say, is nigh. When the last of the bit of explosive artwork leaves its mortar tube to close out the fireworks this evening, another Riverbend will be over and done with.
George Clinton may have signed a check to the city of Chattanooga guaranteeing a night of funk, but that check wasn't cashed until Ivan Neville took the stage last night as the front man for the New Orleans dirty funk ensemble Dumpstaphunk, when they kicked things off opposite Billy Currington on the Unum Stage last night.
I'm still not sure but I was very much looking forward to my lesson in funk Thursday night. I had never even heard of George Clinton or Parliament-Funkadelic, which apparently is a pretty big deal. I didn't do any homework or research on the band so I was ready to get schooled by the “Godfather of Funk.” But I'm not sure he showed up to class.
As the great Mike Jagger and the London Bach Choir have been telling us for all these years, you can't always get what you want. In the case of tonight's headliner, George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic, those words rung surprisingly true.
Every year, I write this column for the second Friday of Riverbend while still in the throes of festival coverage. For you, there are only two days left of the 'bend, but deadlines being what they are, I've just washed the last whiff of the barbecue smoke out of my hair from the Bessie Smith Strut.
I couldn't have asked for a better first night at Riverbend 2010.
As I wandered up the hill on Mabel Street a couple of hours ago on the way back to my apartment, I was reminded, yet again, why the Bessie Smith Strut remains my favorite event of the festival.