It was right around the time that Dave Matthews said, "I smell weed. I smell chicken," that it became clear: He, along with guitarist Tim Reynolds, was going to be the highlight of this year's Kokua Festival.

And not just because he was right on both counts, and funny to boot. From the moment Matthews' name was announced at 6:30 p.m. — to the delighted shrieks of thirtysomething fans who no doubt have fond memories of swaying in their college dorm rooms to the sing-songy melody of "Crash" — to the moment he sang his final note at 7:40 p.m., Matthews had the attention of the 8,000-plus festival goers. Even his mostly incoherent babbling (sometimes using a Grover-meets-Louis Armstrong voice) between songs was a hit. People laughed like they were in the company of a lovable, but perhaps not-all-there, friend.

And then he would start playing again and there was no denying it: Matthews can jam. Add to his skill the astonishing talent of guitarist Reynolds, and the Kokua Festival, for an hour and 10 minutes, was the only place to be last night.

The festival on a whole, though, was bespattered with organizational snafus. Now in its fifth year (but still performing like it's a baby operation) the annual event suffers from the same lack of professionalism as it did in its first year. Though the scope of services has increased, the level at which the services perform leaves much to be desired. For example, a shuttle service has been implemented this year as an alternate mode of transportation to and from the Waikiki Shell, but it was painfully inadequate. There were literally thousands of people who opted to park and ride only to discover that there were but two shuttles doing the transporting. Poor planning on the part of the festival organizers resulted in angry, impatient crowds.

If only, in the midst of the push-and-shove to get home, people could have remembered that they had just been witness to one of the best musical duos performing today.

Matthews and Reynolds did a 10-song set that was jazzy, bluesy, folksy, and groovy with a solid experimental (and in some instances, even a bit psychedelic) thread tying it all together. Reynolds is hands-down, one of the best guitarists alive and Matthews, now sans band, is a solid guitarist whose vocals are still every bit as haunting and lovely as we remember them. If anything's changed, it's that he's better than ever — and had the good sense to partner with Reynolds.

Whatever happened before and after Matthews and Reynolds might have easily been forgotten if the main act didn't happen to be one of our own.

And how could we forget Jack Johnson? He's a big-time celebrity whose star seems to have risen and exploded all over the planet. And still, after four hit albums, five Kokua Festivals and countless concerts, Johnson is a bit awkward on stage, seemingly uncomfortable in his rock star skin. At this stage in the game, it's probably pretty safe to say that he'll always be a little out of his element while he's performing, but who's keeping tabs (besides finicky critics)? The audience certainly isn't, because the guy could lie on stage and whisper his words to the tune of a stringless guitar and the fans would scream. It's his gift: the ability to connect deeply with his listeners in spite of himself.

Last night Johnson took the stage for a solid 90 minutes, playing a 25-song set that was everything everyone expected. For some, that was wonderful news. For others perhaps, a disappointment. Still, he did what he came to do and to that end, he was wildly successful.

Johnson shone brightest when he performed with other festival guests. Matt Costa, Mason Jennings and Johnson did a crowd-pleasing, all-in-the-family version of Costa's "Sunshine," the song bringing out the best in all three singers, but it was when Johnson and Matthews sang Jimmy Buffet's "Pirate Looks at 40" that the whole thing came together. It was pure perfection: the Waikiki Shell bathed in the neon colors of a pretty, if not a bit over-the-top, tropical cocktail, the cool trade winds, the swaying crowd, the fun song sung by a couple of guys' guys who happen to be men of conviction (at least that's the impression we get). Perfection.

Had it all ended there, Kokua Festival 2008 would've gone down as one of the best. And it should have ended there because leaving the six-hour event with a children's song in your head about recycling is no way to end an evening.

Here's a simple rule to follow if you're a musician whose repertoire includes a soundtrack to the "Curious George" movie: If you can smell weed and chicken at the concert, it's no place for children's songs.