Considering the current popularity of her hits "Redneck Woman" and "Here for the Party," it seemed odd that Wilson would tackle the opening spot. But the singer with the round, apple cheeks solidified herself as a force to be reckoned with despite a few setbacks.

Fiddling with her fingers when she wasn't playing guitar, Wilson--whose powerful vocals translate well live--seemed a bit nervous in front of a large crowd. When she felt at ease, she flashed a satisfied smile, especially when the collection of teenage girls and suburban moms yelled "Hell yeah" during "Redneck Woman."

While she's known for her rough-and-tumble persona, Wilson pleased fans with her sensitive nature on songs like the weeping, soaring "The Bed."

Her outlaw attitude was the ideal precursor to Montgomery Gentry. However, Eddie Montgomery's shtick of playing the bad guy in black wore old. He repeatedly tipped is black hat so the shadow mysteriously covered his eyes, and then focused on fixing the collar of his black trench coat. It sometimes took a backseat to his singing. But, like Kix Brooks told the crowd, "You'll clap for anything."

Musically, however, Montgomery Gentry could not be beat. Troy Gentry's guitar solos spiced up the set, moving it from country into pure Southern-rock status, and the two singers traded off impeccable vocals, impressing fans and creating new ones.

Their energy was addictive and relentless. Fans rose to their feet and sang along with each song. It went clear through to the end of the set, which Gentry dedicated to the POWs-MIAs of the Vietnam War.

The band and its crew surprised Montgomery after an encore by covering him with Silly String in honor of his birthday. Gentry led the crowd in a rousing "Happy Birthday" as Montgomery smiled and looked down.

Brooks and Dunn had the daunting task of matching the fervor of Montgomery Gentry and Wilson's sets. They handled it without pause, launching into a slew of hits from the get-go. Ronnie Brooks quietly took control of the lead vocals, leaving the showmanship to his partner Dunn. Dunn also provided comic relief, goofing with his guitar and playing a videotape of himself participating in a donkey race. He eventually crashed into a nearby horse.

Brooks and Dunn were less political than Montgomery Gentry, who repeatedly dedicated songs to heroes--current and fallen. Brooks and Dunn let their music do the talking--proclamations of love and tails of love lost. They traded off vocals, proving they have one of the stronger, more consistent country bands in the genre today.